#will shy away from affection...and scratch if it feels threatens

[ofgentleresolve]

just a reminder that even if myungdae is the black knight and has gone through more than his fair share of life-threaten situations, he is, in fact, kind of a coward when it comes to getting hurt-

aka the first time he needed to get stitches for his wounds as the black knight, it took alfred ( and nell on the sidelines ) about an hour to get him to just sit down so his wound could be taken a look at :'D

[shaisuki]

CAN'T TAKE MY EYES OFF YOU

YANDERE! MANAGER! ALEXIS NESS X IDOL! CHUBBY READER

content warnings ─── idol! reader, panty sniffing, masturbation (m!), implied murder, voyeurism, nonconsensual recording, deranged ness, dubious consent, nicknames (muse, princess), forced affection, threats, coercion, virgin reader, guilt tripping, oral (f! receiving, kidnapping, noncon.

notes. requested by @hillaryary

I was very happy to find your profile and stories :D your story is very good and I really like it!! I have to go to tumblr and re-read your stories every day :DD and can you write a yandere alexis ness x chubby reader, where the reader is a music idol and Ness is her manager?

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ the industry's cold for someone like you, thanks for the entertainment gods you're blessed with your sweet manager, alexis ness or is he?

you are too good to be true.

the neon lights blending with his own magenta eyes following your plush body dancing to the rhythm of the song you recently released. although he can't hear the cheers of the people singing along to your music. he's deeply focused following your every movement. his ears straining the unwanted voices in the background. separating your voice to the crowd and alexis could forever watch and listen to you sing and dance.

if you would just let him take you away from this. you would only exist for him and you won't have to go far to impress these good for nothing who wants you. a product they can buy and throw away.

ness handled numerous artists and he's quite proud to say they were flourishing because of him and it would have continued if it wasn't for their greed. the fame inflating their egos that it bursted until they were no more than nothing but trash. you were humble despite the rapid fame you've gained since starting and ness is captivated by you. how you carried yourself and faced the challenges as an idol.

it's quite difficult since you started. of course, the audience wasn't really into the idea of someone of your stature. round and stout unlike the usual petite idols with the hourglass figures. the fans wanted the thin with the soft features but never the fat that it comes with it and you're nothing like that at all. proving your worth until you get that breakthrough that sealed your deal as the popular rising star in the industry. handled by the finest manager named alexis ness.

alexis is the sweetest and kindest of all the managers (only to you). never did he criticize for your body that was the main concerns of the producers and other concerns that relates to your stardom. he tended all of your needs and made sure you were properly taken care of. alexis just loves you.

and he's the worst. always daydreams about you and think how you've fallen for him. thinking you were just too shy about admitting it and ness likes the thought of it. he likes you too. no. scratch that, he loves you. thinking that your words of praise are your declaration of love for him and how those touches are you seducing him. to fall on his knees and begs for your love which he didn't need to be told twice. he's a delusional lovesick boy. nothing can stop him. not even the forbidden relationships between managers and their talents. alexis would defy it all for the name of his love to you.

the song ended with the cheers coming from the crowd. chanting your name and you ended the concert with thanks and the words of appreciation for supporting you. you're radiant as the sun under the spotlight. waving your hands to the crowd who wants you. threatening to destroy that clean image of yours and ness wouldn't allow such filth to happen to you.

he put a genuine smile while you put your microphone away. his smile was different from the others he shows. this one is only for you.

“alexis.” the call of his name instantly made his heart skip a beat. his lively eyes getting brighter. perking up more than the usual and made his dick hard. his hands itching to get a feel from your soft skin. “it was a another successful concert, thanks to you.” you approached him. grabbing his hand to clasp with yours and ness thinks he could explode in the moment but he kept his composure. after all, he's your manager. your hands is so soft and it perfectly fits in his.

“it is nothing. it is you should take the credit. keep up the good work, sweetheart.” patting your cheek and removing your earpiece. “shall i take you home?” his sight briefly looking at your back where the crowd is still chanting your name in a thunderous manner. you nodded. you were beyond tired and needed a much deserved rest.

after changing out of your outfit, ness escorted you out where his car awaits for you two. of course ness needs to be discreet considering how every corners of the place, a photographer or a simple bystander stands. wanting to get a photograph of you and spread it like a wildfire in the interest. a scandal would erupt if you both where alone and in his car but ness is known as the manager who kept things professional and strictly business as things were. they can't use it against him nor to you as a new headline of fucking tabloid. it's only him and his talent. a good manager who takes good care of his star.

when you got home, you sighed in relief. you needed a bath after that concert and you need to prepare for the next upcoming days for press conferences, meet and greets and guesting for tv shows. no words are said as you instantly hopped in the shower. leaving your manager alone in his own devices in your apartment. it was fine though. you trusted alexis since you started in the entertainment industry and he was nothing but kind to you or is he?

when he hears the water run in the shower. ness knows exactly what he had to do. he follows you in your bathroom. the silhouette of your plush figure lays in front of him and ness was tempted to join you. lick the water running down to your soft body while your fingers comb through his hair. kiss him passionately. tell him how much you love him and he almost did it but for now he's going to relieve himself with your panties. digging it through under your clothes in the hamper and jackpot! he found it.

your cute, frilly panties. you always it wore it when doing public events. your lucky panties, he presumes. it's damp and ness almost salivates at the scent. sniffing the undergarment and fishing his hardened cock in his pants.

ness trembles. the excitement of being caught while sniffing your panties. he think he could cum in the spot but he tortures himself not to cum immediately. his eyes fixated in the shower door. he can see you rubbing your body in an almost sensual manner. his grip on his cock tightens. moving it back and forth. thrusting it in his fist. rubbing it continuously and the moment you turned off the shower, he cums in his fist. the sensation of cumming sending tingles down to his spine. sparks after sparks of endorphins being released in his brain and ness cleans himself before walking away from your bathroom. your panties in his pocket and ness pretends to be resting in your couch.

fresh out of the shower, you told ness that you would be turning for the night and he just gives you a smile. he will leave after you fall asleep making sure his sweet, pretty princess would be safe.

he waited for a good hour. not minding the night being this late. he slowly tiptoes in your bedroom and ness slowly sinks to the soft mattress of your bed. placing your plushies besides you. ones that was given by your fans and that big plum colored teddy bear that is displayed at the foot of your bed. it's round, black eyes is planted with camera that he crafted to keep track of you and you look really adorable even when you sleep. ness can't even think for a memory that you look absolutely a mess. you were really pretty in his eyes. your face devoid of any make-up and he can see the natural state of your face and ness could just worship you if you'll allow him and even if you don't.

you really trust him. you don't even suspect him of doing the nastiest thing he can do. he would kill for you. done it many times so he could protect you.

love me! his thought scream at him. he slowly crawls to you. lurching forward like a predator stalking his prey. his body caging your own. you don't even shift in your sleep. you're gullible. your own manager is above you. watching you through in his eyes filled with adoration with a lovesick face.

love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!love me! love me! love me! love me! love me!

the only words running in his mind while he buries his face in the crook of your neck. let your warmth seeps and touch his very soul while his clothed cock is pressed to your creamy thighs. he moans a little when his cock brushed against your crotch. the thin barrier of your thin pajama bottoms is nothing. he hopes you'll wake up. he hopes you don't.

would you scream? push him away? or pull him closer to you. let his hands wander throughout the expanse of your body while you grind to him. show him that pretty pussy of yours dripping. telling him how much you wanted him inside of you and ness groans.

he should stop before you can find out what your manager had been doing to you. he removes himself from you. “sweet dreams, princess.” he mutters. running his fingers to the roundness of your cheek and kissing your forehead before reluctantly saying goodbye to you. he leaves your apartment silently. making sure it was locked and his phone syncs with the camera he hid in your teddy bear. he looks back one last time before he goes home.

make up? check. your earpiece working? check. do you look cute in this outfit? check. you did a little twirl in your dressing room. posing and practicing the hundred of facial expressions you memorized for this concert of yours. you were ready.

a knock interrupted your little train of thoughts and it revealed your cute manager ness with his ever so cute smile and those kind eyes of his.

“you ready for you big day, my muse?” he asks, checking up on his favorite idol. the cutest of them all. he was rewarded by your beaming smile. you were literally bouncing. after all. this had been set for months and your manager decided that it was time for your grand performance in of the biggest stadiums in the country. ness, a magician manager like him had worked to pull the strings to get his muse, her grandest spotlight.

as much as you deserved it, such acts must be rewarded, right? nothing comes free at all and ness always wanted you. it wouldn't be so bad if he would ask for it. he did everything just to make you shine even as far eliminating threats who wants to strip you out of your fame. those ugly bastards who wants your body for a sliver of connections they had. you're lucky to be in the industry considering you were too big to be an idol they say but ness was having none of it. it's your talent that got you here and him. he was made for your talent and you were made for him.

“thank you, alexis. i really am. without you i would be still in competitions with the others.” you thanked him tearfully. he can see you were sincere at your actions and that made ness heart skip beats before thumping in full force that it's enough for him to be sent into a heart attack but it's far from it. his cute, darling idol. he thought. his eyes raking the sight of your body from head to toe. your so delicious curves and soft features in front of him are made to be touched.

“ah, my darling muse.” ness approaches you. holding your shoulders. as much physical contact between managers and their talents are prohibited, ness was an exception. he never gave you any reason to be wary of and only acted like a friend would do. “don't get teary at me. it's your big day. we wouldn't want your beautiful face to be in a mess, right?” he coos at you affectionately. catching a teardrop in your lash line before it drops in your round cheek.

he's so close to you. your adorable face in front of him and he can smell the scent you naturally emits and he's about to burst. purple eyes looking at your own (e/c) eyes and he's about to be trapped. your lips tremble at the slightest of emotion and he's tempted to kiss you.

his sight going back and forth to your eyes and to your lips. his hold on you tightens and slowly, maybe it was the tension and how badly he wants you, he'd done it.

he presses his lips to yours and ness always wanted it and it's happening now. it's soft and gentle like a first kiss. it was your first kiss and he stole it. ness knows it was your first. he runs down a whole background check on you if he was to be your manager and it was just cherry on top that you were untouched and pure for him. ness had done everything at his power to keep you that way. it was for his own gain to have you.

there was no reaction when he kisses you. it must be shocking. your own manager kissing you out of the blue. it was the least you expected. he was just a manager to you.

you were still processing about it. no doubt and when ness broke the kiss. you were stunned. looking at him wide eyes and he took it as another opportunity to kiss you again. how long he waited for this. your soft lips against his. your soft skin under his fingertips. he let out a low moan. relishing in the sensation of your body pressed against him.

“alexis...” you softly mutter his name under your breath. he was biting your lower lip when you pull away from him and stares at you. pupils blown with lust and cheeks red. he looks like a lovesick school boy. “what?” he doesn't let you go in his grasp. you shake your head. “it's wrong.” he knows it. it's wrong to have a physical relationship nor a romantic relationship to your idol but managers had done it for a long time. it's a reward for their hard work and ness was hurt from how your face contorts into one of disappointment. your once adoring face that was directed to him is now replaced with anxiousness. looking at him in disbelief and is that the look of betrayal?

“it's not wrong when it's only the two of us. don't you love me?” ness voice trembles and it was similar to grade schooler that was being reprimanded of a deed they can't control. you don't know how to make the words you needed to say. you do love alexis. he's the one who helped you build this fame and even it was his job as your manager, you owe all of this to him. despite all of that, you can't risk a scandal between you two. one rumor and it could destroy all the hard work. you simply can't everything on the line.

“i do love you, alexis....” ness perks up from what you've said. you hesitated to utter the next words “you're my manager. my confidant in everything. the person that i trust in this industry but i can't return your feelings. i'm sorry.” your excitement dying down from the revelation of his feelings to you. better let that out than to let his feelings spiral out of control but you were wrong it only fuels his desire to want you more.

clasping his hands and ness thinks he could cry. it was a rejection but he just couldn't accept it. you love him. you've said it but why? were you afraid of crossing a line? idols like you aren't allowed to date but it's fine if it's with him. a secret until you retire and you can love him in the light as in the dark. he couldn't take this rejection. he needed to convince you that it was fine. no one will know.

“we can keep it a secret. just you and me. no one will find out about it. managers had dated their idols without knowing. we can be like that!” ness frantically explains to you.

“for them! alexis, you and i is not the same. i love you but not in a romantic way. platonically, yes. you're the only person i trust here, alexis.” you reason out to him, half-explaining, half-raising your voice at him. trying to reach out. change his mind that you can't love him the way he loves you.

your manager wasn't quick to give up though.

“no! you love me. you're afraid! i swear i'll be good. i'll work harder!” beginning to lose his sense of respect to himself and to you. he's beginning to spout nonsense and you shush him before he breaks down in front of you.

“alexis! stop! stop! you don't need to do anything, okay?” you hold him down by his shoulders. cupping his cheeks and meet his eyes that is already brimming with tears. “you don't need to do anything of that. we can still be... — friends. nothing will change after this. just please, promise me you won't do anything drastic.” you almost practically beg at him and hope he will take this seriously.

“i'll do it but only if you will let me do this.” you weren't able to compose reply before his lips is into yours again. “alexis!” you pushed him but he's back in to you again. “just this once and it will be done.”

you searched if it was real in his eyes and you found no malice in those eyes of purple. still like a gem in the ground and there's a little bit of sparkle in them.

it's only a kiss he asked for but could you trust him? what if someone found out or a hidden camera is recording this whole ordeal. you shake the dark array of thoughts lining in your brain. reaching to a conclusion that you won't regret this.

“you promise?” you asked, a little wary about it.

“i promise.” he smiles and he was about to do the thing you're about to regret. too gullible that he would be satisfied with kissing you.

then the kiss came. lips pressed against yours. gentle it was like him and when you think it was done. you were proven wrong when his hold on you started to get tight. holding the back of your head to further deepen the kiss. swiping your bottom lip with his tongue. you gasped at the sensation. forcing you to open your mouth and ness took the opportunity to shove his tongue to yours.

it was brutal and the sudden intrusion of his tongue in your mouth felt weird. is this what being kissed feels like? you try not to focus but judging from ness, he was adamant of kissing you like this.

the fluttering heat of the sensation of kissing you begins to settle in the pit of his stomach. oblivious to the pain he was beginning to inflict in your skin. all he can focus is the taste of your mouth in his. the strawberry flavored scented lip gloss in your lips coating his taste buds and the softness of body engulfs him. wrapped in the heavenly sensation of being this close to you. ness didn't want this to end.

you body starts to cave in with his ministrations and ness carefully assists you to place your body in your vanity table. your back pressed in the mirror. he breaks the kiss. letting you to catch your breath before he's in yours again. a couple of kisses he left in your lips and then to your cheek and jaw until he's nuzzling in your neck. sucking marks until a hickey blooms from it.

“alexis. you promise it will be done and the concert's starting.” reminding him of his promise. ness who's already hooked to you kept kissing your exposed skin. “there's still thirty minutes left until showtime and you're a little tense.” ness ignores the earlier ordeal. too bad. he won't be satisfied with only a kiss. he needed to taste you. “you won't mind if i help you loosen up a bit. won't you?” alexis suggested. he didn't leave a room for you to respond. standing in front of you. resting his forehead against yours. patting your cheek gently.

“you're particularly tense in this spot, princess.” alexis mused followed by a gasp coming from you when he rubs his finger to your slit. “alexis! no—....” he interrupted you with a kiss. your legs jerking in response along with your upper half. coiling away from him as you move backwards. hitting the mirror and knocking a vase.

his finger repeatedly going back and forth. grazing the surface of your panties until he can feel the dampness of it. “you're still tense.” he murmurs. going back again to kiss you and slotting himself between your legs. his hands creeping up and sliding it under your ass. holding it firmly before grinding his bulge to yours. “ahh~” alexis moans. feeling the warmth of your pussy and the contact of his bulge to yours sending tingles in his spine.

you were helpless against him. you think your body is made of jelly from how his touch leave you to be this weak. “alexis!” you cry out to him. a call for him to stop but your manager didn't take it seriously.

“i told you, princess. i'm helping you to relax. it's a big day for both of us. don't worry it will only take a minute.” what a liar. this is not a way for you to decompress. not with such stakes are in the line.

you think that this industry would be a godsend to you since you're under the care of alexis ness but it's a nightmare. you think of all the idols that had to endure this.

you're wrong. alexis had never touched nor took advantage of the previous idols who was under him. you're lucky. you took his breathe away and was always good for him. it's only the way he can show how much he adores you.

“alexis....” you don't understand why you were suddenly experiencing the feeling of being helpless under him. how his touch disarms you that you're letting him do this. were you truly this dependent to him? you feel him under you. pushing back the tulle of your skirt until it bunches in your waist. still careful not to crinkle the fabric.

his smooth hands glides through the expanse of your thighs. massaging the doughy flesh and letting his fingers sink over the softness of it. “relax for me, princess.” alexis assures you. a brief peck of his lips to yours. not breaking eye contact with you until he started to kneel. leveling with your crotch and he leans in closer.

“princess.” he calls you. peppering the insides of your thighs with kisses. he takes a deep breath. his nose pressed in your slit. inhaling the scent of your cunt he'd been dreaming to get a taste of it. wished he could stay in this forever before he smothered his face in your cunt. “a-alexis!” you inhale sharply at the sudden contact of his tongue to your aching cunt.

your back arches at the sensation of his tongue constantly flicking against the smooth surface of your pussy lips. your fingers finding his hair. unconsciously tugging his hair while your hips grinds in rhythm with his tongue.

“a-ahh...” alexis hears you moan and he couldn't explain the happiness that is bursting inside of him plus the throbbing of his hardened cock. he must contain himself. he thought. it could wait. for now, he must remember the taste of you. he's the reason you're feeling this good and this send alexis to eat you out to his heart's desire.

he greedily laps at your cunt. letting out a noise of contentment while he eagerly catches the slick that your sweet cunt is releasing. he doesn't mind when you're pulling his hair a little roughly. he's glad that you're enjoying this as much as he is. he hears you breath. moan at every move of his tongue. rolling your hips against his face. his fingers digging at your thighs. his idol. his muse. trembling at his very touch.

he knows you're close. from the way you're suppressing the sound of your sinful moans and your thick thighs closing around his head. he needs more. he needs to taste you more. his lips wraps around your clit and that sends a violent jerk of your hips upwards and more slick to drip out of you. ness abandoned your clit. his tongue wiggling inside your dripping hole and sucking the thin, clear liquid out of your cunt. he just can't get enough of this. small vibrations coming from his mouth showing how much he loves the taste of you.

“a-alexis, i—'m close...” you mewl. the tight and the tingly feeling inside you growing and it won't be long before you reach your peak. the man below you hums. worsening the situation you're in. he happily laps your heat.

you taste so divine and he's about to bestow you the most mind-numbing orgasm and so he pours all his experience in your cunt. adding his touch while he rubs soft circles in your thighs and alexis moans when your thighs presses together. encasing his head. he hears you chanting his name like a prayer. asking to let you cum and it's a privilege to make his idol cum.

you close your eyes. the sensation of his tongue flicking and gliding to your folds is too much. you don't know if you'll last this long. this is what it feels to be taken care of. physically. it felt so good. you want more. forgetting that this is taboo between you and ness but...

it was set aside when you tumbled over the edge. the tight, hot coil snapping inside you and your toes curling. body taut until you were boneless against the mirror. sliding in a slow motion. ness laps up the remnants of your post bliss. mouth drenched in your sweet essence that will linger in him for the next days and when you relaxed.

“i think you're ready now.” he innocently smiled to you. helping you fix your dress for today's performance and gently dabbing your face with a tissue to clear the smudges in your make up. “alexis. i hope you'll keep your promise.” you say to him. hearing the crowd in your dressing room and alexis nods. satisfied for now. “as you wish, princess.” then a knock was heard. the stage manager telling you that it's almost time and you were escorted in the back stage. your manager trailing behind you.

what happened between you two is something you regret and not proud of.

alexis was concerned how you were frowning the whole time. his eyes fixated to you and only you. the stage manager begins to count the numbers until it was showtime. your face beaming up in a rapid manner. gripping the microphone before taking a deep breath and it was showtime.

he watched you dance and sing. interact with the fans and blowing them kisses and ness was jealous of it. he knows it's only a ploy to make your fans love you but he wishes it was directed to him. he's a manager. he encouraged you to do it in the first place on how to make your supporters love you and expand your fanbase. the apple of their eye and to him. his darling muse.

dark, muddied thoughts begins to stain his already messed up brain. if only you would look at him the same and thus, he got fed up with this life. hiding and trying to make his creations be pleasing to everyone's eye. if you're going to end up like them, he better cut your wings off.

and that's what he did.

“my muse.” he said with a soft smile. his voice filled with adoration. the nickname stuck to you. always had been. you were his masterpiece. “i never thought i would be this addicted to you.” pale purple eyes staring right at you. never breaking eye contact just to prove his devotion to you. “let me have the pleasure of being your first.” he means it. pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

your mind is alive but your body couldn't move. it was like it was made of of lead. you feel him everywhere. you didn't know you would be in this situation. is this still your sweet manager alexis who can fought tooth and nail just to defend you? who nurtured you and encourages to be yourself despite the rough upbringing of the entertainment industry. did he that all and only he would take that all away from you for him to do worst. the answer was clear to you.

a tear slip out from your eye. you feel your innocence and purity along with your dignity slowly fades when his cock strips you out of it. his breath in your face. his lips singing of praises. his muse. he chants it repeatedly while he moves. his eyes on you all the time. watching the change on your face. you should have run when alexis first showed you kindness and now it's too late. he keeps you in this place where you are only for his eyes to see.

[e-dubbc11]

Only You’re The One

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Swear words, alludes to smexy time(mostly PG-13), Billy being possessive and jealous, mentions of Billy’s commitment issues, no use of “y/n”

Word Count: 2K-ish

Summary: A brief run in with your ex puts Billy in a mood and has him wondering about how the love he has for you compares to your previous relationships

A/N: Random thought, good thing there are a lot of pictures of Ben online. I like to use a different one for each of the moodboards I make. Title is a song by Lifehouse that I’ll link at the end (one of my favorites)

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

A quick run-in. That’s all it was.

A brief encounter with an old boyfriend while on a night out with your current boyfriend left Billy feeling possessive, unsure, and a little jealous.

You could see the frustration in his onyx colored eyes that shined like two flat black marbles under the warm city street lights. His cheeks were flushed with anger and he gripped your hand tightly as you continued to walk down the sidewalk.

His silence was a sign of irritation, anger, and what he considered to be weakness. And it was because you knew he loved you more than anything but the threat of anyone taking you away from him scared him to death.

It hasn’t always been easy. He was easily triggered by any man’s glance lingering a little too long, an innocent smile in your direction, and god help them if they tried to flirt with you in front of him. Sometimes they were just THAT bold but that was no excuse for him to threaten them like he did or worse and you repeatedly had to tell him that…firmly.

Fuck, you loved him for it though. No one fought for you as hard as Billy did, loved you as fiercely, and that just deepened your love for him. Nobody would ever take you away from him. You’d never let them.

It pained you to watch him suffer in silence, to not be able to always say what he wanted to or to express to you how he was feeling. The smile had disappeared from his face as soon as your ex stopped you mid-stride, Billy’s eyes slowly narrowed when you introduced them to each other, and there was a thread of warning in his voice as he said “Nice to meet you.” Billy’s lips pulled back to reveal clenched teeth as you politely smiled and said “It was nice to see you” then you continued the walk home.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Billy turned feral, the hungry kisses, his teeth nipping at your chin and jaw then kissed the smooth skin of your throat, and lightly biting the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, making you gasp into his ear.

Intense desire burned in his eyes for you as his hand disappeared under your blouse and tickled the sensitive skin of your stomach. Hearing his name escape your lips turned him on and you could feel his hard cock against your core as he pushed up against you in the corner of the elevator.

His touches and kisses were urgent like he was trying to prove something and he encouraged you to touch him more like he was starved for your affection when it was clear to you that he just needed some reassurance. Billy wanted to feel your nails scratching his scalp or your hands clasped behind his neck with your legs wrapped around him as he lifted you off the floor and pinned you to the wall.

There was a touch of acid in his tone as he sharply said, “You’re mine.”

Your eyelids were warm with his breath and a growl came from deep down in his throat as he continued to firmly press his body against yours like he didn’t want you to escape. The grip he had on you eased only after you whispered against his ear, “I’m yours, Billy. It’s ok. You don’t have to hold on so tight, my love.” Billy eased up on the tight grip he had on your hips and slowly backed away to allow your feet to touch the floor. “Thaaaaaat’s it.”

Looking up at him through your long dark lashes, you wanted to reassure him and tell him that he was the only one for you so without saying anything, you raked your nails against his scalp and gingerly pulled down on his neck so you could touch your forehead to his. It was calming and soothing to him and helped to bring your breathing back to normal.

Billy’s lips touched yours again, softer this time, and you faintly tasted the vanilla and cloves on his lips from the bourbon he had earlier tonight. He stayed close and long enough to be able to inhale your scent and feel the warmth of your skin against his fingertips.

You could still smell the spicy cologne left on his shirt from this morning as you loosened his silk tie, it felt cool to the touch as it slid through your fingers just as the doors to the elevator opened again on the penthouse floor.

With your knees trembling slightly and your legs threatening to give out, he laced his fingers with yours to lead you off the elevator and quickly ushered you inside.

It felt good to be home.

The two of you left a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom and you wasted no time falling into each other, Billy teased you and touched you right where you needed it the most, he took his time ravaging every inch of you, your body short circuited when he touched you but in the best possible way, and he didn’t stop until you were overstimulated and he pulled every orgasm out of you that he possibly could. Or, in his words, until you were “properly fucked.”

Still tangled in each other’s limbs, your eyes opened again before his did after a short sleep. Your eyes flicked from his hand enclosed over yours, up to the peaceful look he had on his face as he slept. Listening to the steady beat of his heart, a slight smile stretched across your lips as you felt his chest gently rise and fall underneath your head.

His raven colored hair had fallen down onto his forehead to graze the top of his eyebrows, you wanted to move it away from his eyes but you didn’t want to disturb him.

He slept so little.

You managed to unravel yourself, throw on one of Billy’s t-shirts, and get out of bed all without moving the mattress too much. You needed a drink of water. As you started to tip toe out of the bedroom, you heard his soft silvery voice cut through the silence.

“Did you love him?” He choked out with bitterness in his voice.

Your heart sank like a lead weight and shattered as soon as it hit your stomach. The lump in your throat prevented you from giving him a rapid response.

Finally, without turning around you managed to choke out, “Billy…”

“Did you…love him?” Billy repeated again.

You turned to face him. Billy’s jaw was clenched, his breathing was shallow, and his stomach muscles stiffened. Although you knew running into an ex would probably happen at some point, you had hoped it wouldn’t.

“At one time, yes…yes I-I did.” You replied, walking back toward the bed.

Billy’s top lip curled back away from his teeth, he shook his head and said in a frustrated tone, “I guess that’s the difference between your exes and mine. I never loved them, any of them. And I’ll never be the only one who’s loved you.” His New York accent a little heavier now.

Billy’s childhood experiences had prevented him from forming any kind of romantic relationship. It had always been purely physical but you were different and it all changed the day he met you.

The wall he put up was no longer impenetrable, his smiles traveled all the way to his eyes, and the ache and heaviness in his heart seemed to finally subside. He knew it would always be there but it hurt just a little bit less.

Your body went numb as you climbed back onto the bed and into his lap. Billy never had a model for what love is, he didn’t know how but he knew when he was with you, he felt…different.

“Well…that’s love, Billy.” You had said to him months ago with a warm smile.

He replied, “But I’ve never known what that feels like, sweet girl.”

“I think you do now.” You had said, pushing yourself up onto your toes and gently pressing your lips to his.

He knew there had been other boyfriends but he never had to meet them face to face, shake their hand, or forced to watch the way they doted on you, hung on your every word, or think that they even came close to loving you as much as he did.

Billy rested his hands on your hips while you snaked your arms around his neck. He briefly closed his eyes as you delicately scratched his scalp with your fingernails; it was one of his favorite things you did for him.

As you brushed his beard with your thumb, you just smiled at him and replied, “Billy, my love…you’re right…you aren’t the only one.”

Billy looked confused and suddenly his face was overwhelmed with sadness, almost anger but before he could react, you finished your sentence.

“But you’ll always be the one who loved me the most.” You said as a tear streaked down your cheek. “There’s a reason I’m not with any of them anymore, Billy.”

He didn’t say a word, just smiled his perfect smile and pulled you in closer. Holding you in a crushing grip, Billy’s lips collided with yours, his tongue parted your lips to entangle with yours, and his hand traced along the sculpted hollow of your throat. You choked on your need for him with his mouth slanting over yours and you never wanted to let him go.

“Because you’re meant to be with me, sweet girl. I know I love you more than any of those others ever have.” He growled. “But I could tell, I could see it in his face that he still loves you, and I just…” Billy paused. “I just want to be the only one who gets to love you.”

His competitive nature had him striving to be the best at everything. He didn’t care what he had to do but he was going to win…especially when it came to your love.

You could feel all the muscles in his body tense at the same time. Billy was a marine, a scout sniper, physically strong, smart, and determined but sometimes it was easy to forget that there was a scared, broken little boy inside who just wanted to be loved.

He wanted affection but didn’t know how to ask for it without appearing vulnerable and he always wanted to be in control. But there are always going to be circumstances that he can’t control which he was still in the process of learning.

“Billy…you know that’s something neither one of us can control, I can’t help the way they feel about me but you are the ONLY one who will ever GET my love in return.” You said with a hitch in your voice but with assurance.

Again, Billy didn’t know what to say but at that moment, his endless brown eyes said everything he couldn’t say out loud. They said “I love you” and “thank you for loving me.”

You weren’t expecting him to but he said the quiet part aloud.

“I love you and thank you for loving me, sweet girl.” Billy whispered against your lips.

He let his head fall into your neck and shoulder after he kissed you again. You could feel his warm breath going through the t-shirt and brushing against your skin underneath as your lips curled to reveal a loving smile.

“You’re easy to love, baby. Frustrating as fuck sometimes but easy to love; And I love you too.” You said with a little laugh which made him chuckle too.

Billy Russo was so much more than his money, his charm and his good looks. If anyone, including his mother, had bothered to look a little deeper they would have seen an unwavering, intelligent, hard-working, wonderful man and the only wish he had was to mean something to them other than for the money in his pockets or a piece of arm candy. Lord knows he wasn’t perfect but he was perfect for you.

Billy didn’t anticipate someone like you to come into his life, someone that tried a little harder, that didn’t give up on him when he shut down, or that really wanted to get to know the man underneath the fancy suit.

You were unexpected, a startling surprise yet welcomed and you were the one he had waited his entire life for.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[giggly-squiggily]

Inspired by ♾ anon, random question for the day - which characters do you think would enjoy being tickled but deny it until the day they died? Like seriously, you’d have to tickle them within an inch of their life to get them to even KIND OF admit it? 🤔

Oo oh oh~ This is a great question! Lets see: (Mentions of injury in this one- nothing graphic but gonna throw this in here).

Immediate person that comes to mind: Akutugawa Ryunosuke. Listen- our boy's in the mafia. Playful and gentle touches aren't exactly commonplace. Akutagawa's more prepared to receive a punch to the jaw before a pat to the head. He expects pain.

But tickles...they feel nice. They're gentle and soothing, even if they make him produce such retched sounds (Atsushi claims up and down they are "adorable", but he'd disagree). He much preferred the weretiger's claws scratching against his shoulderblades any day. Good luck getting him to ever admit it though- Aku is a man of pride. "Me? Liking tickling? Have you hit your head too hard on the way here, weretiger?" He'd grumble while also refusing to look his way- the tips of his ears bright red and his shoulders hiked up to hide the blush on the back of his neck.

You know who'd else deny it to the grave? Sanemi Shinazugawa. Another one who's not used to gentle touch. He's gotten accustomed to scars and the sharp stinging of skin being torn, so when it's something like a tickle, he's just: Sanemi.exe stopped working. Really he's like that with all sorts of affection but we're focusing on tickles. He does enjoy them a lot- it brings back memories of his family pre-demon attack- how his mother would gather them up in her arms when they were crying and tickle away the tears, or how he'd play with his siblings just to hear them shriek with laughter.

For the most part, like Aku- it's pride. He won't admit he likes it even if it's obvious to anyone paying attention, but secretly it's him not ready to admit he misses his life pre-demon corps. He knows the day he does will be the day he has to confront all the feelings he buried deep, deep down since that night. Maybe one day he will.

Finally: Gonna throw a curve ball and say Louis James Moriarty! There's no angst tied to this one- he just cannot, and I mean CANNOT say it. He's terribly weak to teases from William and Albert- the former especially being quite the menace. You'd think all these years later and all the tickle fights they had as children (and still do today as adults- William never quite lost that mischief side, neither did Louis lose his ticklishness) he'd be able to just admit it, but nope. Still get's ridiculously shy about it- all red faced and embarrassed. His only go to in terms of fighting back these days is threatening to not make his famous omelets for them anymore if they do- a threat that has around a 50% chance of making them pause- an in turn giving Louise a chance to run.

Thanks for asking friend! :D

[snappleapple]

their favorite types of kisses

people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity

headcanon!

the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written

warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)

word count - 2k

a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!

dream -

i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses

he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height

“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”

ends up with you not giving him his kiss

and mans becomes SO pouty

“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(

if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny

“why won’t you KISS ME!”

clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty

slamming the door to your room

so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants

his face is slammed into your pillow

you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair

leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes

“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”

will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him

taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses

when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses

does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you

in other words, clingy but rude hoe

george -

george is a classic romantic

he loves just lip kisses

pecks or lingering ones

he doesn’t care

mans don’t need too many kisses

nor does he need to be too clingy

total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*

if he wants a kiss,

he will come over to you and get it

doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy

just waits patiently

doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing

when you’re watching a movie with him,

he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile

and listen to your every criticism of the movie

he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it

and you’re just not surprised anymore

just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk

overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection

sapnap -

omg

sapnap just vibes with neck kisses

it tickles his neck and he loves them

giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red

“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word

but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world

“i was joking.” :(

when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you

would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss

just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses

“GIVE ME KISSIES!”

very amusing for you

and you love to tease him

“i don’t want to give you kissies.”

continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies

lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe

you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap

sadnap :(

wilbur -

wilbur, wilbur, wilbur

what can i even say

total nose kiss guy

i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven

asks stupid questions just to get your attention

“y/n?”

“yes wilbur?”

“is a hotdog a sandwich?”

“why-“

“boop.”

“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”

if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack

he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose

not too clingy but not too distant

likes to be just right with you

if its snowy outside and your noses get red

makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph

just a lot of smooches from wilby

takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city

and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration

if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is

substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone

punz -

i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go

punz loves hand kisses

not to an extent where he has a hand fetish

god no but just like

when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss

lots of hand holding

and i mean lots

constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much

likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up

also likes to compare hand sizes with you

always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you

even when you go on dates, always holding hands

no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on

sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go

“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”

would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his

he would also love it when you would kiss his hand

makes him feel all polite and precious LOL

would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together

he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY

shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you

afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,

your hand

c!jschlatt -

jschlatt is a whole mess

the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots

now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable

doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes

“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”

also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you

when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,

you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course

he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to

is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved

likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”

gets SUPER jealous when you hug children

like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you

and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder

gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him

his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute

when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead

pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it

“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”

“you only love me for my kisses?” :(

“mhm.”

actually feels slightly bad

“and because of your personality.”

“thank you-“

“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”

in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish

awesamdude -

sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses

not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture

sam is all about sweetness

i mean have you even seen this man on his stream

he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends

not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way

cause man does he love you

i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does

and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love

“i love you sam!”

“no i love you more y/n!”

“NO i LOVE you more!”

“NO i LOVE you MORE!”

“SAM NO. I LOVE YOU MORE!”

“okay thank you sweet pea.”

leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love

when you cuddle, omg

he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy

when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)

sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system

a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them

you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere

hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him

just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love

quackity -

mans cannot leave you tf alone

likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you

“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or

“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you

messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane

plays horror games at two in the morning for fun

and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms

“mi amor. i’m scared.”

“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”

“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck

loves you so deeply but HATES your cat

“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”

your cat also HATES alex

scratches him all the time and hisses at him

if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex

“y/n he bit me!”

when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch

“kiss my boo boo.”

wtf

“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”

gasps as if you offended him

“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”

this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses

istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches

in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n

always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you

even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex

alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[aquagustd]

mortalised: dawn - MYG

↣ despite the ups and downs, it’s nothing like what you and Yoongi have been through before, all that matters is the love you have for him, but you’re yet to find out if he feels the same.

01 - 02 - 03

pairing — dilf!yoongi x reader

genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, angst, bff2l

word count — 10K

warnings/tags — strong language, new-ish relationship, domestic yoongs, y/n just being whipped for hot dad yoongi, insecurities, possessive y/n, hand kink, dom!yoongi, explicit smut — light BDSM themes, dirty talk, breast kink, nipple play, semi-public action, finger sucking, oral (f), fingering, edging, nipple clamps, biting/scratching, hickeys, praise kink, doggy style, hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n — I’ve been writing a lot of angst these days & I just wanted something sweet. I mean I couldn’t avoid the angst here either but enjoy dad yoongs.

∞

If someone told you a few years ago, that you’d be sitting next to Min Yoongi, his arm snug around your shoulder, tucked into his side, sharing a bowl of fruit, love, that isn’t platonic, budding in your heart, you would’ve told them that they’re crazy. Because he’s your best friend and nothing more. Yet, today, he’s all that and more. The serendipitous love of your life. You’re grateful that you didn’t settle for anything less than the standards society would class as “unattainable,” because all along, Yoongi was the man you envisioned.

You watch him press his thumb into the skin of his second tangerine, brows furrowed as if it were an intricate task requiring every bit of your attention. He tilts his head to look at you and yours snaps forward, suddenly shy after his eyes are on you.

“Want?”

He proffers two segments of the fruit to which you decline with a shake of your head, reconnecting your fingers once they’re free. Snuggling closer to his side, your eyes drift to the documentary on the TV, but your mind is occupied by lachrymose thoughts. You don’t know what you would do without Yoongi. Life would be dull and dreary. He won’t hurt you, but the sudden thought that he could walk out of your life at any moment causes your heartrate to speed up. It’s unlike you to think this way, but it’s also unlike you to feel these overwhelming emotions for someone.

You yearn to crawl up into his chest and build a home in his enormous heart, not a single thought of you ever leaving. Tangle your soul with his, your breaths forming one. It frustrates you that you can’t be closer to him, that the press of your skin to his is where it stops. He showers you with his love and affections, but you can’t grasp the nag in your chest. He is a hefty part of your soul, and you won’t let go of the fizz in your stomach if he could so much as graze the skin of your palm with his own.

“What’s wrong?”

Lifting your head to stare up at him, his relaxed gaze on your face, citrusy breath fanning across your lips, you shrug, tightening your hold around his waist.

He chuckles, “it seems like you’ve been trying to drain the life from my body for the past two hours and you aren’t even watching the show.”

You swallow, three words that have been prickling the tip of your tongue recently threatening to jump out of your throat when he runs his fingers through the hair at the back of your neck, peppering feather-light kisses on your cheeks.

“Nothing,” you lie, nudging his nose with your own before you refocus on the screen, an attempt to have him do the same. Which he doesn’t. Like you expected.

“If you’re nervous about tomorrow,” he begins, straightening his posture before sliding his palm across your back, “it’s okay. You haven’t seen Yura in a long time and now that we’re together, it’ll be different.”

You inhale a shaky breath, laughing softly, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I don’t know how she’ll react since she knows that you and I have been best friends. Just friends.”

He nods, “well, we won’t tell her straight away.”

“Of course.”

“I already told Rika.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “you did?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, “she said that she expected it to happen.”

You blink, knowing that Yoongi took her words the wrong way since she used to be insecure in college when it came to their relationship. But you respected her boundaries.

“Don’t stress too much, okay? You were like Yura’s first mum before Rika decided to show up.”

Grinning to yourself at the memory of her tiny hands in your own, you press your cheek to Yoongi’s chest and nod, knowing that there’s nothing you should be worried about.

He whispers your name, “hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking…”

You raise your head to look at him again after hearing the hesitance in his voice, seeing the way he doesn’t meet your gaze yet still keeps his arms firm around your back.

“Hmm?”

“Maybe we should start sleeping with separate blankets.”

Your eyebrows crease in confusion, “what?”

He shrugs, “no, because you wrap yourself up in the covers and I’m left out in the cold!”

You jump away from him, clearly offended, “I do not!”

“Yes you do,” he pouts, an accusing finger pointed in your direction.

“Fine,” you huff, “but you literally take up more than half of the space when you come onto my side!”

He switches off the TV and rises to his feet, tugging you down the hall with him, “I don’t. It’s the only way I can get warm with you hogging the blanket!”

You roll your eyes, letting him drag you into the bathroom. What a bizarre request, especially from him. His hands find their way inside your sleepshirt every night and you need to remind him that he does not need to be your human bra. You’ll see how long it’ll last.

He gets the shower running while you pull off your dress and step out of your panties, taking his hand as he helps you into the shower. The heated stream of water cascades down your body, beating against your aching spine that’s been under a lot of pressure with you sitting at your computer for more than ten hours a day.

You watch him toss your clothes into the laundry basket, soaping up the shower gel in your hands before lathering your chest and stomach.

“Sure you don’t want to join me?”

He spins around and his eyes fall to your soapy boobs immediately, pink lips parted.

“Nah,” he clears his throat, scratching the back of his head, “I have to prepare dinner.”

“We have enough time before dinner,” you grin, running your hands down your sides. He gave in the last time, and you know that he won’t need much persuasion if the thick outline of his bulge is anything to go by, veins rippling in his forearms as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

His shoulders sag, groaning as he pulls the white T-shirt over his head and charges into the shower. You giggle, falling against his wet chest. Heart beating thunderously when he captures your lips in a wet, sloppy kiss, greedy hands massaging your ass.

“You do this every time,” he breathes, grazing the column of your throat with his lips.

“Are you complaining?”

You tilt your head back for his access, grabbing at his slippery shoulders, gasps joining the steam. He chuckles, deep voice rumbling through you to collect in your core. A quiet moan leaps from your throat when he pinches your nipple, palm cupping the flesh.

“Not at all.”

Skipping around the piles of boxes in the lounge, you snatch your bag off the counter and make your way to Yoongi who taps his foot impatiently, clearly annoyed by your sluggishness.

“What?”

“Don’t want to be late for our flight,” he replies, placing a hand on the small of your back to usher you through the door.

You snort, “we have more than an hour left before our flight, and I wanted to do some shopping before we leave. What is Yura into these days?”

He steps ahead of you to open the passenger side door, looking up to the sky before answering.

“Slime, I think. We’ll have to be quick. In and out.”

Buckling yourself in, you see him jog to the driver’s side, dark hair covered by his cute lil baker boy hat. You hum to yourself, ogling his muscular arms as he clicks in his seatbelt and switches on the engine.

“What?”

He’s sporting that smile. The one he has on each time he knows that you’re drooling over him. His tongue pokes out of his lip as he grips the steering wheel with his left hand, twirling it this way and that with the heel of his palm, flaunting his long, ring-clad fingers. His free hand reaches over to grip at your thigh, veins protruding with the movement, the cool silver burning into your meat. He’s also very aware of how much you appreciate his pretty, skilled fingers. Your heart skips a beat when he shoots you a gummy smile over his shoulder, throwing in a knowing wink.

“So, are you ready?”

You stare at your hands, “mhm.”

After months of him taking time off to spend every weekend at your place, you’ve finally decided to take him up on his offer. To live with him and Yura. Regarding your job, you’ve made all the necessary arrangements with your firm after informing them that you would be relocating. You used that excuse whenever Yoongi would ask, but it was your own doubts that prevented you from moving in with him.

“I’d have to check out my new office, get everything settled there first.”

“Yep, but other than things at work, I’m excited for you to live with us. Finally together as a family,” he beams, thumb doodling circles on your skin.

A family. Your insides feel like cotton.

He wraps an arm around your waist as you step inside the bustling mall, drapes of green, red, and gold hanging across the walls.

“They got the Christmas decorations out already,” you giggle, pointing to the twinkling lights in the shape of an elf hanging overhead.

“Yeah…It just hit me that this would be our first Christmas together,” he waggles his brows, “as a couple.”

You chuckle emptily, “yeah. My first Christmas where I’m in a relationship.”

He nudges your hip with his, “that’s your fault.”

Gaze darting from his eyes to his lips, you speak around a smirk, “thank God I didn’t lower my standards.”

He sucks in his lower lip, glancing at the crowd of people passing by before pulling away, keeping you in stride with him. You watch his jaw clench, hand pressing into your side while you’re cheering internally because you love teasing him, especially when you know he can’t do anything about it…right now.

He clears his throat, steering you in the direction of the toy store, “let’s go there.”

The fluorescents blind you momentarily as you step into the colossal space, shelves lined with vibrant packaging that’d have any kid losing their mind. Yoongi decides to visit the aisle towards the left while you make your way to the section of the store that houses variations of slime and clay. You have no idea where to start but you know that you want Yura to like the gift, so you go big. Inspecting the slime kits that sit high up on the shelf.

Satisfied with your choice, you make your way through the aisles, searching for Yoongi when you spot him standing beside the musical instruments. His arms are folded as he speaks animatedly to a woman wearing a blue T-shirt with an image of a giraffe on the back. Probably one of the store’s assistants. You watch him throw his head back in laughter and you take a step forward to hide behind a stack of dolls, head tilted in their direction.

“Oh my, so she’s six? I can’t believe it, you look like you’re in your early twenties,” she squeaks, leaning against the shelf with her elbow propped up on the edge.

You scoff when Yoongi laughs again, clearly charmed by her flattery.

“Thank you. She’s just the best.”

“Most single parents don’t have time for other things. Like the gym and…” Her beady eyes are set on his arms, and you can tell he’s flexing when he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

He smiles, “not really a single parent anymore.”

“Oh? So you’re not single?” She fishes, her pitch lowering which has you gritting your teeth. A part of you is somehow afraid to hear his answer. Would he say that he is single when he isn’t?

You make your presence known by stepping around the pile and hooking your arm into Yoongi’s, holding the kit in front of his face.

“This looks nice. What do you think?”

You don’t miss the way his eyes widen a fraction when he sees you.

“Mhm, she’ll like it,” he nods frantically.

Holding the packaging next to your hip, you force your lips to curve upwards in the direction of the wide-eyed woman who glances between you and Yoongi. He dips his head as you pass her to make your way to the tills. His face remains stolid all the way to the car and your stomach twists when he doesn’t open the car door for you like he usually would. Your head feels like it’s overheating with your pessimistic thoughts that are so far-fetched, yet you can’t help yourself.

Keeping your gaze on the window, your reflection stares back at you, nail caught between your teeth. You flinch when he touches your thigh again, he yanks his hand away.

“What’s wrong?”

You whip your head around to offer him a smile, “what? Nothing’s wrong.”

He blinks, chewing on his lower lip before averting his gaze to the rear-view mirror and reversing out of the parking.

You’re embarrassed to hear your own thoughts. In the past, you haven’t felt this territorial for anyone before. To the point where your hands tremble and your heart is caught in your throat.

Your eyebrows pinch together when he parks off under the shade, still in the mall’s parking lot.

“What? We’re gonna be late for our flight,” you worry, turning to see him unclick his seatbelt.

“We’ve been friends long enough for me to know when something’s on your mind,” he begins, voice gentle, eyes lit by the sunlight that fills the car, “what’s wrong?”

You purse your lips, blood rushing to your face, “nothing.”

He sighs, tugging your hand into his lap, “if you’re nervous ab—”

“I’m not nervous,” you huff, melting under his coaxing gaze.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“It’s dumb.”

“I don’t think it would d be dumb if it’s coming from you.”

“Yes it is.”

“Nah.”

“Yes.”

“Just tell me.”

“No.”

“I swear to God, if you don’t tell me—”

“I saw you talking to that girl from that toy shop!”

His lips tilt into a frown, “so?”

“See,” you mutter, “told you it was dumb. Can we go now?”

“No,” he argues, “no we cannot go now.”

You lean against the headrest, shooting him a painful frown.

He smirks, leaning in closer to you, “you’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

He reaches over and unclicks your seatbelt while you’re resisting the urge to jump out of the car and walk all the way home.

“Never seen you like this before,” he husks, poking a finger under your chin to turn your head.

“Like what?”

“Jealous.”

You groan, glancing at the sky to avoid his teasing gaze, “I’m not.”

He rests a hand on your shoulder, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you know, it’s been really difficult for me to pay attention to anything else with that see-through dress of yours.”

Your eyes go as large as saucers, head snapping down to see your red bra, taunting you through the white material of your dress.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He grins, “I only noticed when we were out of the house.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t rush me this morning!” You whine, cheeks flushing to match the shade of your underwear.

“But,” he presses his forehead to your cheek, unbuttoning your dress. You catch his wrist, breaths quickening when you notice his blown-out pupils. He breaks out of your hold and continues to spread open the fabric of your flimsy dress.

“Yoongi, someone will see us.”

To your horror, he pulls down the cups of your bra and begins to encircle your left nipple with his thumb. You hold your fist up to his chest, fighting off the sensation.

“Yoongi…”

“Remember when we talked about the fantasies we had in college,” he reminds, watching how your back arches when he takes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “the ones we couldn’t fulfil because of all our responsibilities.”

Your tongue darts out to graze his cupid’s bow, eyes slipping shut, slick pooling in your panties, “mhm.”

“Sucking your pretty tits till you cum was one of mine,” he growls, holding up your mounds to press into his face before his lips latch onto one, tongue and teeth plucking the skin while his hand works your other nipple.

You moan, threading your fingers into his hair and pushing your chest into his face. By now, Yoongi knows just the right angle and speed to have your pussy aching for his cock, fingers pinching your areola while his middle finger flicks your pebbled nipple, spit dripping down your skin as he sucks noisily. He groans into your skin, peering up at you with hooded eyes when you whimper and your hips jut into the air, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

His tongue slides from one nipple to the other and you know that if he could suck both your tits at once he would.

“Please,” you whimper, sweat building between your thighs as you continue to rub them together when he holds you down with one hand, the other pinches and twists your heated nipple.

Your eyes crack open when he takes your nipple between his teeth and draws his head back, a choked moan breaking into the air. His tongue darts out to soothe the burn, index and middle finger rubbing your erect bud rapidly. You fit your hand between your legs, crying out at the friction against your pulsating clit.

He pulls away with a lewd pop, glossy lips sliding along the line of your jaw, stopping on your lips to place a lingering kiss while he catches both your hands and holds it up over your head. You yelp when it hits the roof of his car, breaths mangled. He lands two smacks to each of your nipples, your pussy clenches with the buzz that surges through you.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

You shake your head, speaking against his lips, “n-no.”

He sinks teeth into the skin of your shoulder, fondling your breasts with renewed fervor as you throw your head back and relax under his touch, quiet moans spilling from your lips. The twinge between your thighs builds when he returns to immobilizing washes of his tongue against your nipple, swirling around your flesh, keeping your hands high above your head while you gasp and twitch with the building pressure in your abdomen.

You’ve never had an orgasm from nipple stimulation before, and you did think about it since the Yoongi has you blabbering with the pleasure from just his tongue and fingers on your nipples. The tingles travel across each of your limps, nails digging into the back of his hand as you find yourself nearing the edge. But it’s still not enough, you writhe against the leather, hot and wet. Clit pulsing, more and more of your arousal seeping though your hole.

“Yoongi. I—” you shiver as he suctions your nipple into his mouth, nails pressing into your abused skin. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, sparks shooting along your spine, flying over the edge with his ministrations. White dots spot behind your lids, unable to bite down the weak moans as he helps you ride out your high, swirling the tip of his tongue.

You spasm with pants of his name, laying limp as if he sucked the life out of you and the accomplished smile he gives you would have one thinking that he did. Wiping his bottom lip with his thumb. He readjusts your bra and buttons up your dress. Raising your hips when he pats your thigh, you’re too exhausted to fight back for your underwear, seeing him stuff it into his sweatpants pocket.

“You can rest on the flight, kay?”

The short rest during your flight did nothing to lessen your lethargy. For some reason, you feel even more worn out than before, but Yoongi looks fresh and energized. And you find yourself questioning if he really did drain every ounce of your energy earlier today. He wheels over your luggage to the front door while you’re admiring the new exterior of his home. It’s been a while since you visited and you’re trying to remember the last time when the front door swings open and a girl, you almost don’t recognize, rushes toward Yoongi and leaps into his arms.

“Dad! I missed you so much!”

He coddles her to his chest, lifting her off the ground and kissing the top of her head.

“I missed you too! Look who I brought this time,” he gestures to where you stand on the steps and Yura, just as she did earlier, skips toward you and wraps her arms around your shoulders when you bend down to receive her hug.

Some might say it’s disrespectful, but Yura grew up hearing her dad call you by your name, so she does the same. Much cuter.

You pinch her cheeks, “as if I thought you couldn’t get any prettier! And taller! You’re gonna overtake your dad soon.”

She giggles, her eyes creasing in a way that reminds you of her mother. Yoongi exhales a dry laugh at your comment.

“I’m so happy dad brought you this time,” she bubbles, fitting her small hand in yours as you walk through the door, “are you staying forever? Mum said you’re staying forever.”

“No, sweetheart. Not this time,” you smile, swinging your hands back and forth, “I came over to spend the week with you and then the next time I come over will be forever!”

She squeals, “yay! I like your bag.”

You pat the plush material of your Louis Vuitton, “thank you. You can have it if you want.”

“Really? Dad bought one for mom too, but she said it’s not for little girls when I asked,” she pouts, tugging you toward the kitchen.

“Oh, he did? Well, you can use mine whenever you like.” You bought this bag yourself, not like you needed Yoongi to buy it for you.

When you enter the kitchen, you’ve always envied, a mouth-watering aroma fills your nostrils. Rika has her hand on Yoongi’s back.

“Hey,” you announce, walking around the counter to hug Rika who grips your elbows to survey your face.

“You look tired.”

You laugh, “it’s been a while.”

“Mum, she said that she’s not staying over forever this time,” Yura jumps onto the bar stool, “you lied.”

You set your bag down and watch Yoongi empty the contents of the grocery bags, stocking up the refrigerator.

“I didn’t lie,” Rika argues, stirring up whatever stew is in the pot, “I just told you what your father told me. How have you been?”

“Been good, what about you?”

She sighs, “alright, I guess.”

Yoongi points his eyes to the back of her head, and you laugh, remembering what he said about his ex taking any opportunity to complain about her miserable life.

“It’s nice of you to take care of Yura during the weekends,” you nod, sitting the little girl on your lap and combing your fingers through her hair.

“I have to. Otherwise Yoongi will kick me out,” she laughs bitterly, placing her arm on Yoongi’s back again.

You blink, “what do you mean?”

Yoongi disappears down the hallway with your luggage and you’re left with Rika and her overlined eyebrows that appear as if she’s always judging you. Which she most probably is.

“Yoongi didn’t tell you?”

You shake your head in confusion.

“I’m living here until I can sort things out at my job.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

You wonder why Yoongi didn’t provide that important detail. Since he goes on and on about how irresponsible she is.

“You mean until you find a job,” Yoongi interjects, re-entering the kitchen and washing his hands.

She shrugs, “anyway, are you joining us for dinner?”

Yoongi scoffs, “what kind of a question is that? Of course, she is.”

“Come on Yura. Let’s help dad set the table,” you peck her cheek before jumping off the stool to wash your hands.

Dinner rolls by with Yura’s passionate talk about her slime collection, Yoongi and Rika’s discussion about Yura’s schooling and the quiet clattering of your spoon against the bowl. Rika has always been a good cook, the flavor reminds you of Yoongi’s own stew. Yura excuses herself from the table to show you something amazing while you’re left to endure Rika’s narcissistic talk of how she has no time for herself since she started living with her daughter.

“She loves spending time with you. What would you do if you spent four years of your life hearing stories about your mother and then she finally pitches up?”

Rika says nothing, shockingly, head hung low between her shoulders.

“Ta-da,” Yura thrusts a hand in your direction, a cockatiel sitting in her tiny palms, hopping around.

“Oh my God. It’s so cute! What’s her name?”

She giggles, smoothing her index finger over its feathers, “it’s a he! His name is Pikachu.”

You coo, watching the fluffy, yellow bird chirp around when she sets it on the table between your placemats. You’re taking a sip of water when Yura calls your name, big eyes on your face.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Am I going to have two mothers now?”

The question catches you off guard and you turn to Yoongi for help, Rika’s remains silent, an impassive expression on her face.

“Rika is your mother,” Yoongi says, “but she is not my…partner.”

Her lips purse, chubby fingers pointing at you, “she’s your partner?”

He nods, a small smile ghosting his lips, “yep.”

Her head cocks to the side, tone accusing, “then why did I see you kiss mum that day?”

You refuse to look at Yoongi, suddenly developing the skill to mask your emotions, waiting patiently for his answer.

“We…that was not—”

Rika sniggers, “come on, let’s go bath while dad cleans up here.”

“I’ll come say goodnight!” She waves, while you put on your brightest smile, the legs of the chair scraping against the tile.

You can see Yoongi tail you into the kitchen in the reflection of the mirror placed near the lounge, rushing to catch up with you. Turning on the tap, you scrub down the oil from the dishes and throw the waste into the bag, anything to occupy your mind and your hands. You feel him touch your arm.

“That was a long time ago,” he mumbles, propping his chin on your shoulder, arms snaking around your waste.

You shrug him off and spin around, biting down on the skin of your cheek, “can we not talk here?”

He nods, socked feet padding across the tile as he takes you to the guest room. You sit down at the edge of the bed, eyes on your luggage that’s placed behind the door which he closes behind you and makes his way to sit next to you.

“You didn’t tell me she lives with you,” you break the silence, slotting your fingers into one another, your calm exterior a stark contrast to the coal burning your insides.

“Since last month only. I didn’t think it was important, she stays over every weekend.”

You nod, still not looking at him, “and you buy her gifts.”

“What gifts?”

“Yura told me you got her that Louis Vuitton bag.”

“It was a birthday gift. Would you look at me?”

You can hear the desperation in his voice, a shaky breath leaving your lips when you finally meet his gaze.

“Please don’t misinterpret,” he gestures from himself to the door, “all this. She’s the mother of my child.”

“I know that,” you breathe, the lump in your throat becoming more difficult to swallow, “I know.”

He dips his head, “and you’re everything to me.”

You surrender to his touch when he cups both your cheeks in his hands, pulling you toward his face, “do you have any idea how happy I am to have you here? To have both my favorite girls with me.”

You blush, gripping the front of his shirt to pull him closer. I love you.

“I’m starting to think that you like it when I’m like this,” he whispers, placing lingering kisses to your eyes and cheeks, resting his lips on your forehead.

“Like what?”

He falls on the bed and takes you with him, rolling you onto your back, eyes ablaze with something fond.

“Fussing over you,” he replies, voice above a whisper. You shiver when he traces the side of your face with his index finger, chest pressed to yours, “constantly telling you how I feel.”

You wink, “maybe.”

Wrapping your fingers around his neck, he lets you take his lips in a searing kiss, tongue sliding into his mouth with practised ease as he fits himself between your legs. Deepening the kiss by pressing his thumb into your jaw.

You need this. You need him. Desperately. If you can’t tell him how much you feel for him, you’ll show him with ardent kisses, hands fitting under his shirt to have him feel how your skin burns for him. Heart hammering against your ribcage.

He jolts away when you hear a knock on the door, pulling down the handle to reveal Yura, ready for bed in her purple pajamas.

“Dad, can you sleep by me tonight?”

He rubs the back of his neck and glances at you. You hold your arms open for Yura, kissing her goodnight, seeing Yoongi shoot you a sorrowful look.

“I’ll see you later,” he calls before closing the door.

With a sigh, you unzip your luggage to prepare for bed yourself, shuffling to the bathroom with your toiletries and skincare. By the time you’re done, you decide to head upstairs and peep into Yura’s bedroom. The sight that greets you has your heart stuttering in your chest. Yoongi’s body is curved to fit into his daughter’s bed while cradling her in his arms, she has hers thrown over his back, face pressed into his chest, both in a deep sleep.

You rise the next morning with a fright, scrambling to find your phone and check the time. 12AM. An hour left for you to get ready and make your way to the office. You freshen up in record time and make your way to the kitchen, ears perking when you hear laughter coming from behind the wall.

“Good afternoon,” Rika smiles, transferring the chopped onions into a pot.

“Hey,” Yoongi beams. You lean into him as he pulls you into his embrace, kissing the top of your head.

“Where’s Yura?”

“School. Work starts after twelve for you? Damn,” Rika chortles, throwing a rag over her shoulder.

“I’m not starting work here today, just heading to work to check out my new office and stuff.”

Her lips part in an ‘o.’

Yoongi slides a yellow container in your direction, “coffee?”

“Yes, please.” You open the container to find a stack of pancakes with raisins. Just the way you like.

“Thanks baby,” you hum as the steam of coffee hits your face.

He sits opposite you at the counter, fingers curled around his own mug of coffee.

“You’re not at the studio today?”

He opens his mouth to answer but Rika cuts him off.

“He’s hardly ever at the studio, he works from here mostly. Especially now that I’m around to cook and feed him,” she laughs, wiping down the side of the pot.

You nod, eyes flitting back to Yoongi who shrugs, “yeah.”

“I’m the one who does everything for him. Not once did he even offer me a glass of water.”

You chew the pancake in silence, knowing that she’s referring to the way Yoongi rushes to do things for you. But you pay no mind to her bitterness.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi quips, “would you like a glass of water?”

She rolls her eyes, fluffing up her hair, “so ungrateful.”

“Anyway,” you dust your hands, rising from the chair, “thanks for the breakfast…lunch.”

Yoongi follows you to the front door, handing you the car keys, “see you later.”

You swing your laptop bag over your shoulder, standing on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, “later.”

The offices are a replica of the ones back home, every corner of the space brandishing the firm’s signature colors. Mr. Park escorts you to the main offices upstairs, the clicking of your heels on the wooden floors being the only sound echoing in the pristine hallway. The familiar logo is pasted at the center of the door situated near the end of the hall, grey and sage green carpet being the first thing you notice inside the space.

“This is it,” Mr. Park announces, gesturing with his iPad for you to enter the room.

There’s a single window situated behind the barren desk, pale grey chair wheeled in one corner and an empty shelf to the side. You’d obviously have to add your own spice to the place but the single window, little light filtering into the room, leaves you a little anxious. You appreciate the natural light when working.

“Obviously you can add your own décor and equipment to your liking, but you won’t be spending much time up here,” Mr. Park informs, tapping away on the screen.

“Why not? This’ll be my permanent office, right?”

He nods, sandy blond hair flopping into his eyes which he brushes away hastily, “yes. But your main office would be downstairs, near the conference rooms.”

Your eyes shift to the window, “this is my main office. When I spoke to Mr. Kim last Thursday, this is the office he directed me to.”

Mr. Park tucks his iPad under his arm, scratching the side of his head, “it seems like Mr. Kim got things mixed up. We’ve only authorised the move since we were in need of a supervisor on this side.”

Your mouth hangs open, “supervisor?”

“Yes.”

He narrows his eyes in your direction, before lifting the tablet up to his face. And you want him to say that he’s making a mistake, but all you hear is a small goodbye as he exits the room. Leaving you to stew with the grey walls as your company.

Supervisor. For your department. Not what you planned. That means triple the workload. Your spine starts to ache all over again, as if sensing that you would be spending more time hunched over your laptop. You barely make it through your current workload and now there’d be a whole department on your shoulders. Not yet, at least. You’re required to send an email to Mr. Park with your final decision by Wednesday morning. A decision that wasn’t influenced by an increase in stress up until now.

Now you’re rethinking everything. You want to live with Yoongi, but that meant leaving behind the luxuries of working from home. Plus, the sudden addition to your contract. You are being promoted to supervisor, for the same pay. Not worth it. Is it worth it?

You think your hair must’ve turned a shade of grey by the time you make it to Yoongi’s house, the pressure that would no doubt take up majority of your time eating away at you as if you’ve already made your decision. Because that’s what you’re leaning toward.

When you enter the code, the door clicks open with a soft beep, the first thing you see is Yoongi, Yura and Rika, cosy under a blanket, laughing at the cartoon on the TV.

“Hey,” you yawn, kicking off your shoes with a slump to your shoulders.

Yura springs up from the couch to pull you toward the couch. There’s obviously not enough room for you to join them.

“Oh, hey,” Rika smiles, “have you eaten dinner yet?”

“I—”

“I don’t think there’s enough curry left for you. But you can have ramen.”

You glance at Yoongi who offers a weak smile.

“That’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway,” you reply before spinning around and making your way to the guest room, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and bed. As if that could free your mind, with the image of Yoongi with his arm draped over where Rika sat haunting you.

When you return to the bedroom, tying up your gown, the smell of garlic has your stomach growling. Yoongi sits at the edge of the bed, pointing to the tray of food when he sees you.

“I made ramen,” he smiles, “and steak.”

You rub the towel against your damp hair, plopping down next to him.

“It smells great. Thank you.” You waste no time tucking into the meal, sighing happily when you feel it settle in your empty stomach. Yoongi watches as you scarf down the noodles, offering him a bite now and again before licking your lips and settling against the headboard, his head on your chest.

“You seem tense. Is something wrong?”

There’s always something up with you. So you choose to tell him about your little mix up at the office another time.

“How was your day?”

You run your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails up and down against his scalp since he mentioned once that he finds it relaxing.

“Not too bad. Spent all day chatting to Namjoon about the soundtrack. Yours?”

You draw in a deep breath, “okay.”

He sits up from your lap and you’re afraid that he’s going to pester you to tell him what’s wrong but the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.

“What?”

“I have something for you.”  

You blink, “what is it?”

He pats the back of your hand, “wait.”

A million and one possibilities run through your mind but just one has your heart leaping to your throat. What if? No, he won’t. It’s too soon. Too soon for him. And you haven’t even told him how you really feel, there’s still so much you need to say to him. You wonder if it’s the same for him. Your heart skips a beat when he returns with a black velvet box in hand. That possibility being scratched out when you take in the size of the box. But it could be a necklace?

He crosses his legs and places the box in the space between you. His cheeks are tinged pink, goofy smile in place.

“Open it,” he chirps, pushing it toward you which you do with shaky hands.

It’s a necklace. One with a huge white crystal in the centre. You glance at him, and he seems just as nervous as you. When you take it between your fingers, lifting it from the box, you realize that it’s not a necklace.

“I’m—”

“I just thought of you when I saw it.”

You’re inspecting the chain, shaped in a ‘Y,’ two silver clamps at the top with the crystal dangling at the bottom.

“Yoongi,” your spit feels too thick to swallow, core pulsing at the thought of having him use this on you.

He takes it from your hand and shoves it into the box, “obviously, we don’t need to use it now.”

“Yoongi.”

“We have enough time to—”

“Yoongi.”

His head snaps forward when you take the box from him, eyes not meeting yours, “hmm?”

“I want to.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, voice above a whisper, “yeah?”

You reopen the box and twirl the silver in your fingers, setting the velvet on the nightstand, “yeah.”

He pushes you down on the bed, hovering over you with lust swimming in his eyes.

“But you’re gonna have to be quiet,” he warns, plucking the chain from your hold.

You nod, anticipation pooling in your core, “I will.”

“And if it gets too much?”

You search his eyes, “you mean like a safe word?”

“Yeah,” he nods, cupping your chin with his thumb pressing into your lip, “you’re so cute.”

“Anabelle.”

His eyes flit to yours, “what?”

“Remember that time you said you had a dream about Anabelle, that doll. You know she was trying to—”

He covers your mouth with his palm, “yes. I remember and did you have to bring it up now?!”

“I just thought it would be funny,” you shrug, giggling when a grimace passes over his features.

“Fine. Anabelle. Hope we’d never have to use it,” he chuckles, making quick work of removing your robe and his shirt.

You run your palms down his muscular chest, the tufts of dark hair under his arm has your pussy throbbing in want. He pushes your legs off his waist when you try to hook them around him, kneeling between your legs.

“We’d have to warm you up first. Give me your hand.”

Obeying his orders without a second thought, you hold up your left hand, eyes widening when he pops your finger into his hot mouth, tongue swirling around the digit.

He laughs, deep and throaty, knowing how he has you wrapped around his finger. He pinches one clamp between his fingers and holds it over your hand, eyes on your face when it squeezes around your finger. It doesn’t feel too bad, just an intense press on your fingers.

Your pain tolerance is high.

“Okay?”

“Mhm.”

He smiles, “okay.”

Settling down on his stomach between your legs, you watch with rapt attention as he pulls the cups of your bra under your boobs, rings glinting in the dim lighting of the lampshade. You gulp, eyes fluttering shut when he begins to pepper kisses between the valley of your breasts.

He wets your nipples with his spit, pout covering your flesh momentarily before he pulls away and orders you to keep your eyes open. Your tits are glazed with his saliva, mouth hanging open when he lets one of the clamps dig into your skin near your nipple, ensuing a soft gasp from your lips.

“Okay?”

You hum, chin hitting your chest as you nod.

“Let me hear you, kitten.”

“Okay.”

He does the same to the other side, letting it claw down on your areola. The burn creeps along your skin, collecting in the apex of your thighs.

“Yoongi.”

“Yes?”

“It’s okay. Higher,” you moan, legs sliding up to plant your feet on the sheets.

Breath drifting over your skin, the clamps bite into your nipples and you whimper, eyes scrunching shut, throat going dry before the pain ebbs into pleasure, rolling through you when he tugs on the crystal experimentally, lips parted in hushed gasps of his name.

“So fucking pretty,” he whispers, the sound of his rings hitting the nightstand reaches your ears before he tugs again, earning a moan from you which he swallows up zealously, tongue sliding across your bottom lip.

You mewl when he keeps the chain tight in his fist, smacks of his lips against your skin echoing in the heated space as he makes his slow descent down the length of your body, hitting your legs open further with his shoulders to slide his fingers through your clothed slit, groaning to himself when he feels how wet you’ve become. Eyes still closed, your teeth pierce into your bottom lip to stifle the moans that rumble through you when he pushes your panties to the side and begins to rub slow circles on your clit. The bed creaks under his weight when he sinks down further on the sheets, planting kisses on the skin of your inner thigh before his tongue pokes out, fingers moving down to your throbbing hole when his lips purse around your clit just as he tugs the chain again.

“Yoongi,” you moan, heels of your feet pressing into his back when his tongue wiggles into your folds, fingers slipping into your heat slowly.

He pulls on the chain again and your walls tighten around his fingers, more of your slick dripping down his palm as he flicks his tongue erratically, drawing moans from your swollen lips.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” he speaks into your cunt, lapping up your juices like a man starved, fingers curling into your pussy to rub against your sweet spot, nipples caught in his hold.

You reach down to tug on his hair, head pressed into the pillow as his fingers continue to fuck into your sopping pussy, grinding against his tongue, thrashing under him when he twists the chain between his fingers and tugs harder. He flattens out his tongue against your clit, fingers splitting you open with lewd squelches while you’re approaching your high quicker than usual, holding onto his hair for dear life.

“Gonna-ah!” His teeth catch on your clit before he pulls away as his fingers remain knuckle-deep into your pussy, raising your back to an arch with the chain, nipples pulsating, mind going hazy, tears prickling your eyes.

Your eyes crack open to find him kneeling in front of you, removing his fingers from your quivering hole, licking them dry with his chin covered in your essence. You whine from having your orgasm ripped away, goosebumps raised on your skin when he removes the clamps from your abused nipples and tosses it aside. You hiss when he takes the flesh in his palms and runs his thumbs over them tenderly, gleaming eyes tracking the motion.

“Yoongi,” you keen, wrapping your legs around his waist once again, grinding into his thick bulge.

He meets your gaze, tongue poking out of his mouth as he flips you over and grips your ass harshly, ravenous hands pulling down your panties. You push your ass back onto his crotch, sighing when your pussy comes into contact with his heavy cock, sweat beading on your forehead.

“So fucking ready for my cock. Hmm?”

You grip the pillow when the blunt tip of his cock pushes through your hole, chanting out ‘yes, yes, yes.’

“Gonna fuck you nice and good,” he grunts, nails digging into your skin even harder with each inch of his cock penetrating your ridged walls.

Sighing once he’s fully-sheathed by your walls, you beg him to move, sitting up on your elbows to turn around. You clench around him upon seeing the blissful look on his handsome face, head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest, mouth hanging open.

“Fuck,” he rasps when you clench around him again, hand fitting in your hair to pull your head back gratingly, “what did I say? You remember what happens when you misbehave?”

Moaning at the memory, you screw your eyes shut when you think of the last time you got him mad, left begging for him to make you cum after hours of him teasing you. He grips your hair and pulls you flush against his chest, the slow drag of his cock against your walls ensuing a string of curses from him.

He fits his thumb into your mouth, and you suck filthily, palm gripping your chin as he begins to fuck into you with rapid flexes of his hips into yours, whispering praises in your ear.

“So fucking beautiful.”

“This pussy was made for me.”

“Taking my cock so well.”

Yelping when he presses your face into the pillow, he grabs the back of your neck and holds you in place as he drills his cock into you, reaching that spot only he could find, walls fluttering around him. You’re biting down on the pillow to keep from screaming out his name, cock lodged deep inside of you when he reaches between your legs and curls his fingers around your throbbing clit, twitching under him, air being knocked out of your lungs. He pushes his thumb further into your mouth, teeth piercing the skin below your ear. You gag, heat crawling along the length of your spine as you cum with a shuddering cry.

“That’s it, kitten. Fuck, always so pretty when you’re like this,” he grits out, veins dragging along your walls until his thrusts become shallow, leaning forward to bite down on your shoulder, spilling into you with low groans that has your walls closing around him once again. A mix of your arousal drips down your thighs when he pulls out and collapses next to you.

You shuffle closer to him, catching your breath while he does the same with his arm slung over your waist, eyes closed.

When your breaths even out, he opens his eyes to find you already looking at him. The corners of his eyes smiling with him.

“That was nice,” he hums, speaking into your hair, “how do you feel?”

“I feel great, although my nips could use a little break,” you chuckle, fingers splayed across his chest as you stare up at him, heart bursting.

“Sorry, do they need a massage?”

You shake your head frantically, passing him a disapproving frown, “no, they’re good for now.”

He chuckles, rubbing his cheek against yours.

“Although, I think I need to shower again,” you add, grimacing at the feel of his cum drying on your thighs, sweat collecting on your scalp.

“No problem,” he grins, kissing your forehead once before pulling away to peer into your eyes. Your heart speeds up once again, limbs tangling with his as he smiles at you affectionately, butterflies swarming into your tummy.

His lips part, energy from his gaze connecting with yours, “I—”

“Dad!”

Your eyes widen, scrambling to cover yourself with the blanket, “did you lock the door?”

He slides off the bed and puts on his underwear, jogging around the room to find the rest of his clothing, “of course!”

“Dad?! Can you come sleep with me and mum?”

You watch him pause at the door before he returns to your side and squishes your cheeks together, pouty lips slotted in yours briefly.

“Think you can shower without me? Promise I’ll come back later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, holding the sheets up with one hand while the other fixes his hair.

He leans forward to peck your lips again, “thank you.”

Waving him off with a smile, you adjust your sticky underwear and reach for your robe to head into the bathroom once again, this time with a new wave of haunting thoughts. What was he going to say? The butterflies are still present in your stomach along with the ache between your legs and the marks on your neck. You’re in love with Yoongi and you’re going to tell him tonight. He’s considerate and patient, and he’ll surely understand when you tell him about your situation at work.

After spending almost four hours waiting for him to come back to your room, you decide to find him yourself. Because you won’t rest until you get everything off your chest.

Making your way upstairs, you see that he’s not in his room or in Yura’s. The door at the end of the hallway was left ajar so you poke your head through. Heart sinking to your stomach when you see Yura sleeping in between her mum and dad, Rika’s arm over Yoongi’s back, cuddling together. Chest going tight, you return to the guest room feeling defeated. Do they do that often? That’s the mother of his child. But they’re not together, you’re with him.

Sleep refuses to take you, vision going blurry as you stare up at the ceiling in contemplation. Yura needs her mother and father. Parents these days don’t consider the effect their actions have on their children. You don’t want to be that person who comes between them, especially when they seem to be living comfortably. No matter how much Yoongi says that he needs you to complete his family. You’d just be an extra in his life. Always.

Somehow, you realize that you had fallen off to sleep when you wake up the next morning with a bitter taste in your mouth, the sudden urge to pack up and go home coming to the forefront of your mind. The house is quiet and when you check the rooms, the driveway vacant, you know that they must’ve went out today, since it’s a public holiday. You don’t feel like eating, scrubbing down your stained bowl from last night as it all comes flooding back. Yoongi and his ex, together with their child, in one bed. He didn’t even come to see you like he promised. Your second night spent here without him.

You’re dragging your luggage to the lounge, all that you’ll say to Yoongi well-rehearsed, when the front door clicks open.

Yoongi holds Yura’s hand while Rika holds the other, smiles splitting their faces and it only hurts you more when Yoongi’s falls as soon as his eyes find yours, as if he did something wrong. When he didn’t.

“Hey.”

“Hiii,” you smile, Yura kisses your cheek as you bend down to pinch hers, “where have you guys been?”

“We went out for ice-cream,” she beams, following her mother into the kitchen.

“That’s nice,” you let out. Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow when he spots your luggage behind you.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to come along,” he takes a step toward you, “but you looked so peaceful when I saw you this morning.”

Peaceful.

He leans in closer to peck your cheek, but you turn your head and he kisses your temple instead.

“Where are you off to?”

You thrust your thumb in the direction of the hallway, “can we talk?”

He nods, fitting his fists into his jeans pockets, “okay.”

Wringing your hands all the way to the guest room, you stand at the window once the door is closed. The state of the room would have one thinking that you didn’t even visit.

“What’s up?”

“I have to go back.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, “so soon? I thought you were staying till Sunday.”

You swallow, keeping your eyes on floor, “I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

You mirror his stance, slotting your hands in your coat pockets, “there was a little misunderstanding at work, and I can’t…move here.”

“What do you mean?”

“They only agreed for me to move if I took up the position as supervisor,” you inform, seeing him sit down on the bed from the corner of your eye.

“Okay…and?”

“That wasn’t what I agreed to.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t that bad of a misunderstanding, right?”

You look up to see him wearing a perplexed expression, patting the space next to him to which you take with labored breaths.

“It’s not my job title. Not what I applied for. Supervisor means more work for me, and I barely manage now,” you laugh grimly, voice raising in pitch.

He stares at his feet, “so, you don’t want to move in with me because you’re afraid of the workload?”

His features turn to stone, lips in a thin line when he turns to look at you again, eyebrow cocked.

“It’s not that,” you rush out, suddenly defensive after hearing the way he put it, “it’s not my job. I’m gonna be working my ass off, longer hours for the same salary.”

Silence falls over you and you’re trying to figure out what’s going on in his mind, but his eyes become difficult to read. He opens his mouth to say something but stops himself with a sigh, fiddling with the hangnail on his thumb. You place your hand over his to stop his movements, hitting your shoulder against his.

“You can still visit me whene—”

“Relationships force you to make sacrifices.”

You blink, lump forming in your throat when he sets your hand in your lap and rises to his feet.

“I know that but—”

“Just admit that all this is beyond you. Living with me, with Yura,” he snaps, shrugging lightly, while you’re struggling for words.

“What? Yoongi. That’s not—”

“Since college, you were always so particular about this and that.”

You step in front of him, shaking your head weakly, “what? No.”

“So worried about the future. About things that aren’t even in your control.”

“Yoongi,” you breathe, holding a finger up to his face, “you know that’s bullshit. I was there for you when—”

“When Rika left me all alone. I know. You’re always reminding me.”

You can’t believe what he’s saying. As if you didn’t spend all those years making it through the bad days together. His eyes hold a new emotion, one you haven’t seen directed at you.

“You’re getting things wrong. You don’t even need me here, Yoongi. You have everything to complete that perfect life you always talked about,” you sob, pointing to the door behind him, “a stable job, this house, a beautiful, healthy child and her mother. Present.”

Realization falls over his features, “you’re mad at me.”

“What?”

“You’re mad because Rika and I hooked up,” he mumbles, reaching out for you while you’re slapping his hands away, tears brimming your eyes.

“You hooked up with her?”

He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, whispering your name, “before us. It doesn’t even matter.”

You shake your head vehemently, sobs wracking your body, “it does matter for fuck’s sake! Before or after us. I don’t care. You live with her!”

A crease forms between his brows, “so what?”

“It could happen again! You sleep in the same bed as her. She’s here all day. Your—”

He grips your shoulders, towering over you, “that doesn’t mean anything. She’s the mother of my child,” his voice cracks with pain, “you’re the one for me.”

“But she was your first love,” you spit, the words burning up your throat, “you’re forgetting that I was there when she left. You were broken. It took you years to get over it.”

He stammers for a reply, fingers pressing into your shoulders which you shake off.

“Think of Yura,” you say finally, walking around his hunched figure, “she needs both her mum and dad, and I won’t be able to live with myself if I’m the person who ruins that for her.”

Wiping your eyes furiously, you’re stopped by his hand on your wrist, yanking you further into the room against his chest.

“It doesn’t matter if she was my first love,” he begins, sorrow collecting in his eyes, “the woman who helped me overcome every challenge life threw my way, why no one else worked out for me. N-none of this would’ve happened if I just confessed all those years ago.”

“Yoongi?”

His lip trembles, Adam’s apple bobbing before he takes you into his arms, lips pressed against your ear. You’re patting his back a little bemused, heart pounding in your ears.

“I love you.”

You pull away from him, eyes wide in shock, “what?”

His eyes flicker up to the ceiling, “you’re gonna make me say it again?”

Lip caught between your teeth to tame more tears from spilling, you nod.

He wraps an arm around your waist, minty breath mixing with your own, “I love you.”

Too overwhelmed by emotions, you jump up to wrap your legs around his torso, lips meeting his in a salty kiss. He lifts you up by your ass, holding you close to him while you’re kissing him with all your heart, transferring all your feelings with the press of your lips.

Somehow, whenever he’s close, reminiscent of all those years ago when things felt hopeless, you know that in the end everything will be alright. The words you repeated to him every single night when he was close to giving up, taking turns attempting to put Yura to sleep.

He rests his forehead against yours, tucking your hair behind your ears, “we’ll figure something ou—"

You love him, and nothing else matters. Because true love will always prevail.

“I love you too.”

a/n — if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or an ask if you’re shy, it’d mean a lot to me.

⤺masterlist

© aquagustd 2021 do not copy/repost/translate.

[goldentsum]

━  pretty submissives.

CHARACTERS: miya atsumu, miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, and suna rintarou

WARNING: smut, 18+ content, bdsm, sex toys, pretty subs who cry, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mommy kink, hard dom! reader, soft dom! reader, lingerie on males, maid outfits on males, degradation, praising, anal play (male receiving), oral sex, handjob, riding

AUTHOR’S NOTE: seeing the “doms” become subs and cry makes me so excited! sub! male characters supremacy!!!

part 2 - tsukishima, kageyama, oikawa, kuroo

— atsumu ♡

• a brat and a masochist 

• likes it when you go hard on him. make him cry. hurt him. atsumu likes it. he loves it even!

• when you manhandle him, not giving a fuck about how loud he is and just chasing your own pleasure, using him, makes him whiny and it triggers his orgasm! 

• slap him, spank him, mark him, degrade him, he’ll cum untouched!

• atsumu’s a cocky little shit outside of the bedroom, telling people how dom he is but you both know who moans like a little bitch when spanking sessions goes a little harder than usual. 

• his expressions are the best! his usual cocky smirk turning into a lewd face. eyes rolling back to his head, mouth wide open as drool trails down his chin, and a delicious red blush on his cheeks. the way he shivers and trembles under you is breathtaking. 

• if you overstim him, he’ll cry and scream, jerking violently on the bed. he becomes really sensitive, even more sensitive than normal, and he comes way too quickly but he recovers fast so dw~

• sub! atsumu is super fun to play with especially when he’s being a brat about it. 

• but your aftercare makes him super soft! he gets really cuddly afterwards! clean him up though or he’ll whine about it in the morning. 

“i-it’s too much-!” atsumu cried, your hand still stroking him. the mess from his earlier orgasms makes it easier to stroke him back to hardness. his thighs quivered at the intense pleasure, sensitive from the past orgasms. 

you smirked down at your boyfriend, loving the way he tremble and weep. his face was a mess, drool on his lips and chin and tears running down his cheek, his nose red. atsumu gasped when you placed the bullet vibrator against his spent cock, the intense buzzing making him shriek. 

his moans are so cute. so pretty and loud. 

your eyes admired his bruises and hickeys. his inner thighs red from your bites, chest covered with scratches, and his neck with your lovebites. 

“have you learned your lesson, tsum?” you hummed absentmindedly, still running the vibrator along his length while you other hand squeezed and massaged his cock’s swollen and red head. atsumu whimpered, hips thrusting. 

“y-yes! please! i-i can’t come again! it hurts!” he whined, squirming on the bed. new set of tears running down his cheeks from the pleasure. 

“hmm~ give me another one then i’ll believe that you’ve learned your lesson” atsumu moaned at that and let his head plop down back on the pillows, eyes closing from your actions. brows furrowed, mouth opening again to let out series of broken moans. 

you removed the vibe making atsumu sigh in relief, breath stuttering a bit. he panted, chest heaving.

you snickered at the fucked out expression on him. the calm moment quickly dissipate as he choked on a moan when you wrapped your lips around his cock, tongue swiping at the swollen head and your hand massaging the prominent vein that run along his cock.

“aAAH-!” raspy moans escaped the male, hips jerking as you started to bob your head. atsumu hics as his lips trembles

if anyone asked you what was your favorite moment was with your boyfriend, it was definitely when he’s like this. when he’s your little slut. 

— osamu ♡

• a soft princess~ <3 

• he will do anything you ask. model a piece of lingerie? he’s already wearing it. show you how he touch himself? done. lay on your lap for his spanking session? he’s there. asap. 

• osamu is a obedient baby but he still gets a little playful at time, testing your dom side. 

• but when you turn hard dom on him, he’ll cry. in anticipation and in excitement. 

• if you deny his orgasm, he’s gonna cry. even if it’s only one orgasm, he’ll whine and tells to you that he has been a good boy. only a good boy. no bad boy! 

• a crybaby!! 

• he’s already sensitive normally but if you deny him his orgasm, he gets really antsy and get really sensitive making him squirm and pout. 

• if you degrade him, he’ll be really pouty and teary! only praises for baby samu! 

• tell him how pretty he is. praise how well he fucks you. tell him that you like it that he’s your obedient little princess. he’ll be putty in your hands~

• if you bring food in the bedroom, licking it off him. he’ll get really shy! also, if he sees the food outside the bedroom, he’ll probably remember what you did and get hard pft 

• samu loves the feeling of your tongue on him!

“tsk. you’ve been really bad, princess” you scolded, watching osamu whine. a pretty laced collar on his neck, his body shivering as you massaged his prostate. 

“n-no! ‘m good-!” he whimpers out, hips grinding down to your fingers. you spanked his ass, gripping the red flesh. osamu gasped at the impact, eyes rolling back to his skull. 

you thrust your fingers in his ass, his tight walls clenching down. your other hand went to his balls, cupping it tightly. osamu mewled, tongue sticking out of his mouth. his body shuddering when the tips of your fingers brushed again and again against his prostate. 

“really now? you don’t remember that you were being a brat earlier when mommy had to work?” 

osamu sobbed, toes curling when your fingers quickened. his teeth biting down his lips. he sniffled and stared up at you, eyes teary and red from being denied his orgasm 3 times now. 

“’m sorry, w-wanted mommy’s a-attention!” he confessed, body quivering. you stopped making him whine at the lost of pleasure. taking your fingers out of him, you climbed on top of him. 

leaning closer to him, you kissed his lips. he chased your lips, desperate for your affection. osamu opened his mouth, an invitation to slither your tongue in. you hummed in appreciation and entered your tongue in his cavern, playing with his tongue. 

the male moaned against your mouth as you swallowed his pretty moans. his body violently jerked, surprised at the pleasure, when you started grinding your clothed pussy on his sensitive cock. he cried, trying to make you quicken your slow grinding. 

you moved away from his lips, his gasps echoing in the room as he quivered under you. your lips trailed down to his neck, sucking on the soft skin. 

“you wanted mommy’s attention? you have it, princess~” 

— sakusa ♡

• a touch-starved baby! 

• please handle with care :( 

• pretty boy gets embarrassed really easily so please tone down the teasing. but i don’t blame you if you want to try. he gets really red, the contrast of the red on his pale skin and dark hair is stunning!

• stare at him while you pleasure him and he becomes more responsive, your eyes makes him squirm! 

• loves it when you suck him off, admiring his body. do not degrade or he’ll be really hurt about it and might not do anything for a longgg timeee

• any form of physical affection makes him really shy and he’s really embarrassed when he pops a boner because of it! even if it’s the most innocent touch, a sudden boner will pop out of nowhere. 

• when you overstim him, his pretty dark eyes gets shiny with tears and turns half-lidded as he blubbers incoherent words.

• if you give him gifts, lingerie and/or collars, he would react strongly at first! getting shy and being a tsundere but as soon as he wears it and you praise him, telling him how he looks so good, it’ll make him super happy! 

• please wash him after the fun though, the gentle atmosphere contrasting from what happened earlier makes sakusa soft. he loves your hands. running up and down his body, caressing the skin that no one but you gets to touch. 

water splashed against the large tub as you rode omi. his breath getting more uneven and hitching when you clench down at him. 

sakusa hid his warm and red face at the crook of your neck, he can’t look at you. if he does now, he feels like he’ll cum just from the way you look at him with pure desire. 

you run your fingers through his wet dark locks, massaging his scalp. sakusa moaned against your wet skin, lips biting down on his bottom lip as he tried to muffled the loud moans that was threatening to escape him. 

“don’t hide your pretty moans, baby~ let me hear you” you whispered, hips moving faster, loving the way sakusa’s large cock hits your sweet spot dead on and the way the tip reach so deep inside you. 

the dark-haired male whined, hands gripping your hips as his legs shook. he panted against your neck making you shiver when his hot breath hit your cold skin. 

you let your hands rest on sakusa’s wide shoulders, using it to help you move up and down on his cock. you hummed in satisfaction when you hear his moans getting louder and you tugged his hair, making him look at you. you looked at him in awe and lust. 

he’s so pretty. his dark eyes half-lidded as it gleam with tears and lust. lips red from the earlier biting. the red blush across his cheeks and neck was absolutely delectable. 

“you getting close, omi?” you whispered as he nodded, whining, brows furrowing. you leaned closer and started littering his neck with bites, breaking the skin. 

sakusa moaned at that, hips thrusting up making you moan when his cock grazed your cervix. you licked the column of his neck then slid your tongue into his open mouth. 

he kissed you back with a hint of timidness, still a bit shy. he let you take the lead with the kiss as always. omi loved the way your dominance oozes out of you but still maintaining this certain softness that makes his heart full. 

omi gasped into the kiss when your fingers pinched his nipple, rolling it sensually. you broke the kiss and looked down at him, a lazy smirk on your lips as your hips rolled. 

“you’re so pretty, omi~” 

you loved the way his body reacts with praises. his eyes rolling into his head, head threw back, and mouth open. you trailed one hand to his lips, fingers going into mouth and played with his sleek tongue. sakusa moaned against your fingers, sucking and working on your fingers like a good baby he is~ 

— suna ♡

• a pillow princess! 

• he loves it when he just lays there, letting you do all the work, as you work him into his high~

• suna loves it when you dress him up, caressing his skin. 

• lingerie and maid outfits with cat ears are his faves! thigh high socks are also his go to! 

• and when you praise him, cooing at him about how good he looks and your fingers playing with the bell on his collar makes his heart skip a beat

• suna also has a masochistic side! all soft sex aside, he loves it when you fuck him hard. use him for your own pleasure, remind him of his place. also after sex when he looks in the mirror, seeing the bruises you give him rises a weird satisfaction in him

• he would let you do anything! just talk about it with him before actually doing it. 

• pretty boy looks good in dresses! his small waist is amazing! 

• i said it once and i’ll say it again, he’s a pretty pillow princess! 

• he loves the way you stalk towards him, eyes dark and filled with lust. it makes him squirm with excitement, waiting for your next move.

• fucking him while his ass is stretched by a butt plug that’s attached to a tail, his maid outfit messy and covered with his cum, and his bell ringing every time you fuck him would make him so dazed and fucked out! 

“what a cute kitten you are, rin~” you cooed, fingers trailing on his bruised back down to the crack of his ass then to his ass where the tail hang. you grinned and pushed the plug deeper inside him, marveling at the way his body arch and his whines getting louder. 

the skirt of the maid outfit was bundled up on his waist, showing his pretty ass to you. you then tugged a bit at the tail, suna whimpering at the way the butt plug drag against his walls. 

you then turned him around, manhandling him to the way you like. suna looked up at you with dazed eyes, his thick cock standing proudly against his stomach, the now soiled lacy panties pushed down to his thighs. 

“fuck, you’re absolutely gorgeous” you praised. suna moaned when you held his cock, stroking him as you positioned yourself up on his thighs and lined him to your folds. 

the male gulped at the sight of you and relished the way you slowly sunk down to his length. your moans mixing together, savoring the stretch of suna’s dick and the way your walls sucked him in. 

once he bottomed out, you panted on top of him and your hands on his chest, touching the soft fabric of his outfit, steadying yourself. 

“p-please move... please..” you heard after a little bit, you gazed down at him and smirked. hands fondling his chest, admiring the way his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped and the way the bell on his neck, rung. 

“want me to move, kitten?” suna nodded, opening his lips to slur out pleads. how can you deny the cute kitty when he moans so prettily for you so you started moving, clenching down on his dick. the way his cock felt was amazing as always, filling you up so good. 

suna moaned when you started going faster, his hands gripped at the blankets beneath him. he laid on the mattress, moaning like crazy, letting you ride him to oblivion. 

you cooed, panting a bit, as you admired him. you reached down and tipped his chin towards you. he opened his fucked out eyes to gaze at you, a blush coating his cheeks. 

“you should see yourself right now, baby boy. you look absolutely delicious~” 

[oedein]

DEAL WITH IT.

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader.

warnings: SMUT. sub reader. unprotected sex, overstim, light degradation, pet names.

word count: 3.9k

A/N: lol sorry for making bucky so mean ;(

Standing in the bedroom of your shared bedroom with Bucky, the two of you were trying to find outfits for tonight.

Tony had invited all of the avengers to party to celebrate your latest mission with the squad ending flawlessly. As part of the team, you were going. Bucky was quite averse to the idea of staying out for the night at first, but after a few hours of you practically begging him, he finally caved. — It's not that Bucky wouldn't have gone at all; he would've most likely just tucked himself away in a corner during the whole night and minded his own very boring business. If it wasn't for you accompanying him, helping him loosen up and actually enjoy himself.

After spending a fair amount of time getting ready both physically and mentally, you arrived at the party without any further hindrance.

Bucky kept close to you, his shoulder bumping into yours every time you stopped to greet someone. An hour of just strolling around endlessly made you jittery, feet bouncing off the floor every time you stopped walking. The sound of your suits rubbing up against each other built up a mild frustration within you, making you grit your teeth. You decided to link your arms together as a result instead of walking around like you were gonna merge. The two of you were usually shy about showing affection in public, especially around the other Avengers, but something about tonight tempted you into being more physical with him. You ended up catching up with a friend for quite some time as you were on the way to a bar, making Bucky rather restless. Excusing yourself, you nudged into his side and turned to whisper in his ear. "Hey, 'might want to go there alone for now. I'll be there in a bit." Bucky nodded and pulled his arm away from yours, starting to walk away from you. You watched as he went to sit down on a stool in a far corner, ordering his drink in peace. Your eyes kept flickering over to Bucky as your friend spoke, silently watching as he brushed his hair out of his face and cracked his knuckles. The way he tilted his head back and sighed in frustration as his bangs fell into his face again made you chuckle quietly. You followed every minute movement he did, biting your lip. When he scratched his beard, squinted when someone was too loud, or the way he would look over at you, eyes scanning you up and down made you lose your sense of surrounding, only fixating on him. The friend from earlier was still talking but caught on to you zoning out pretty quickly. Not wanting to bother you further or waste time, they excused themselves and nodded towards your boyfriend, "Go catch up with him; we'll talk more later!" You would apologise countless times for being so out of it before your attention turned back to Bucky, your gazes connecting. "Buck, buck, buck!" You called out playfully, humming as you walked up to him. He turned the stool around as he heard your voice, giving you a slight nod in acknowledgement. You beamed up at him, taking the opportunity to move closer, nestling between his spread legs and leaning your back up against him.

Bucky leaned forward to rest his chin on your shoulder instead of just sitting straight, giving you a soft nuzzle.  As the bartender approached, you quickly added,  'I'll have whatever he's having.' craning your neck to the side and giving Bucky a wink. You could feel his chest rumble as a chuckle built up, the sweet sound escaping from his lips and lingering around you. You awkwardly wrapped an arm around him and turned, lips hovering over each other for a few seconds before they connected. A quick yet deep kiss. You hummed in discontent once he pulled away from you, placing a lasting kiss on your cheek instead. Bucky glanced at you, watching as you nuzzled your cheek into his chin and kept your arm around his shoulder before you leaned back into him. "You look so good in that suit, Buck. Giving me so many bad thoughts..."  you purred into his ear, watching as he suddenly turned in his seat. "And it's so hard to have all these thoughts with so many people around. I can't do anything about it." A string of tsks left you, and you shook your head playfully, turning to look for a drop of shock on his face.  To your surprise, he was staring straight ahead, gaze almost burning holes into the wall. You couldn't make out any emotions on his features, only noticing his visibly clenched jaw. A pang of satisfaction ran through you — the plan you wanted to set into motion earlier was seemingly starting to work. Bucky's attention returned to you, and he moved his hands to your waist, pushing you so that you would turn to face him. His eyes fixed on you as he leaned in closer, your noses almost touching.

"No." A single word left his lips, taunting you. The confidence from mere seconds ago crawled back inside, being replaced by a newfound annoyance of your boyfriend. You looked directly at him, letting out a huff in response. A smirk crept up over your features, and you placed an arm on his waist, "Aw, come on," you emphasised the last word, dragging it out as you nudged him with your shoulder, "you know you want it." You brought your hand up, dragging it against his crotch before it slinked under his chin, tilting his head down. Moving in for a kiss as he jerked back from the contact, you gave his bottom lip a tug before you pulled away. You heard a quiet 'fuck you.' escape his lips, making you giggle in return. You made sure to finish up your drinks before you got up, deciding to walk outside to chill off. The cold air bit at your reddened cheeks, making you shiver and press further into Bucky as you walked. Your hands curled up into fists, shaking from the chill winds dancing around you before Bucky eveloped them in his. The silent walk fell short as you stopped, turning to stand in front of him. You wriggled your hands free from his grip and placed them on his tie, playfully tugging on it. You reached down to his pants, fingers resting on his belt before you dragged your nails against the leather. You felt his muscles flex underneath his shirt, reacting every time your fingers would brush up against his abdomen. Bucky remained silent, watching as you pushed up against him, grinding your crotch against his, desperate for any reaction. Your eyes met, staring down each other, awaiting your next moves. Your shared warmth was soon gone, with Bucky almost peeling you off of him, moving his hand under your chin and tilting it up.

He ran his metal arm down your body until he stopped at your crotch, copying your actions. Before you could react, he pulled away, shaking his head at you dismissively.  The trip home was unbearably quiet, Bucky shutting down any advances you made, resorting to a painful silent treatment. Once you got to your apartment, Bucky ushered you inside and closed the door with an unexpected intensity that made you jump in surprise. Discarding your outerwear, the two of you began walking inside before you were stopped in your track, almost falling over as a result. Bucky was close behind you as his hand found its way to your pants, hooking a finger around your belt and pulling your back towards him. You yelped in surprise, stumbling back a few steps before you hit Bucky's chest with a soft thump. A sigh escaped him before he spoke, voice low and gruff. "I don't appreciate that type of behaviour. Especially not in front of others." His free hand found its way up to your face, fingers wrapping around your jaw firmly, turning you to face him. "Whatever you were trying to gain back there is not going to happen." He noticed a change in your posture, the way you almost cringed into yourself as you listened to his harsh words. As soon as you were about to speak up, Bucky was cutting you off in an instant. "Hm? D'you really think you deserve any of those things?" His words were laced in disappointment, watching as you desperately racked your brain to try and come up with a confident reply. "Aw, poor boy... not a single word, huh?" Bucky brought his knee up between your legs and pushed them apart, the fingers around your belt pulling you further into him. He grinded up against your backside, listening to your mewls. "Where did all that confidence from earlier go?" He huffed out a chuckle, hot breath fanning against your cheek. A satisfied smirk washed over his features as you shuddered in response. "Be good for once and sit down." He mumbled, giving you a slight push towards the living room sofa.  You gasped at the sudden movement, stumbling forward and catching yourself on the armrest before you sat down, anticipating Bucky's next move. He followed close behind, eyes never leaving your frame. The growing silence broke as Bucky reached out with two fingers in front of your face. He was towering over you, fully taking advantage of the angle he was at. "Open your mouth." You obliged eagerly, faster than he could finish the sentence. Leaning forward, you let your tongue lay flat against your lower lip and tilted your head back. You looked up at him proudly, expecting to hear praises; instead, you were met by his harsh silence again. Bucky watched as you wrapped your lips around his digits, fluttering your eyelashes at him as your gazes met. You could sense how impatient he was getting, so you started sucking on his fingers, coating them in your saliva. The muffled moans you let out against Bucky's fingers made his cock twitch in his pants, his bulge visibly growing. A string of saliva followed his fingers as he pulled away from your mouth, drool pooling up at the corners of your mouth threatening to spill out as well. Bucky slid down on the sofa next to you, pulling you up on his lap with his free hand once he settled. You rested your legs in between his before he began tugging down your pants and underwear. You followed suit, struggling before your shirt came off fully. Bucky discarded the clothes on the floor before he moved your legs on either side of him. Your member sprung free, plopping up against your belly, making you shudder as the cold air hit your sensitive tip. You looked down, watching as some of your precum ended up leaking on your stomach. Bucky brought his lubed up fingers in front of him and spat on them as well before he lifted your hips slightly. He moved his hand to spread your cheeks, letting a slick finger circle your entrance. He spent a good few minutes riling you up, the seemingly endless teasing never ending. "Hah- Mm.."  You tried to moan out in disappointment as he stopped moving, but the noise got stuck in your throat, leaving you even more frustrated. "Please, Buck.. please touch me." You leaned your head against his shoulder, drawing out a lengthy whine into his ear. "I don't think you deserve any of that, though, do you?" He tutted at your words and stopped moving his hand, "Dumb brats don't get their way. They have to deal with what they get." You huffed out in protest as he spoke, "M'not a dumb brat!" You gave his chest a light slap, laying your hand flat against it. Bucky hummed in response and turned your head to face him, "You sure are acting like one right now." As he finished scolding you, he started moving his fingers again —this time pushing his slick digits into you, slowly stretching you out. The sudden contact made you jolt forward, and your hands gripped onto his shirt tightly, knuckles almost turning white. Bucky watched you slowly unravel in front of him as he started to increase his pace. You threw your head back, whining loudly every time his fingers brushed against your prostate, threatening your body to climax early. He moved his cold, metal arm from your waist and wrapped it around your cock, starting to pump it with a steady pace. The added pressure made you keel over, laying your head against his chest as he kept pumping his fingers into you. The second you tried to show that you were close, he would suddenly stop and pull his fingers out, watching as your frustration grew. Tears began forming in your eyes from the teasing, spilling over as you looked at him, making you feel pure defeat. Bucky smirked, pleased with the state he had put you in. He leaned forward, placing small kisses on your cheek until he reached your lips, capturing them in a deep, salty kiss. You kissed him back, sniffling softly as he pulled away from you. He bucked up against you and nodded to the free space on the sofa, motioning for you to lie down. Once you had switched positions, you watched as Bucky moved to get up. You frantically reached out for him, not expecting him to walk away from you like this. He looked down at you and tsked, lifting his index finger and shaking it at you. "Come on, you gotta be more patient than that." He sounded disappointed again, making you wince at your sudden reaction. You curled into the leather sofa, hands at either side of your face. "You can't seriously believe that I'm done with you right now. Not when you're behaving like that." His voice echoed through the room as he walked out to get something. You felt the sofa dip as he returned and nestled between your legs. The familiar sound of a belt jingling piqued your interest, making you look over. Bucky came back with a bottle of lube in his hand, ready to prep both of you. He undid his pants and let his cock spring free, looking over to see you staring at him through heavy lids. A low groan snapped you out of it, your eyes following his hands, watching as he stroked his cock and lubed it up. Cars driving outside the apartment illuminated the room through your windows, letting you see all of Bucky for a few seconds, taking in the sight in front of you greedily. The way he threw his head back and the way his hand would occasionally twitch as he pumped himself was intoxicating. Bucky pulled his hand away from his cock and reached out for your waist, pulling you up on his lap before he lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed himself in, getting all of his cock to fill you up, growling as you squirmed. His thrusts started out slow and steady, your moans spurring him on. He brought your legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as his thrusts turned harsher, almost feral. The room's silence was replaced by the sound of your erratic moans and skin slapping against skin. "Hands up over your head." Bucky suddenly huffed out, never ceasing his ruthless pounding. When you didn't respond, he decided to lean forward, bending your legs until he was close enough to your face. You gasped as his position switched, his cock pushing even deeper inside of you. His hand pinned yours above your head, holding onto your wrists tightly as he kept rutting into you. A loud whine escaped you as you tried glancing down at your neglected cock, wanting to relieve the pressure building up in your abdomen. Bucky noticed your shifting attention, tutting at you as he leaned back up, grabbing onto your hips. "Why don't you be a good whore and cum without touching yourself, hm?" It was more of an order than a question, and you bitterly agreed, trying to relax your arms as Bucky kept fucking you into the sofa like a toy. The assault on your prostate resumed, sending waves of pleasure through your body, cock twitching impatiently the closer you got. After the first time you came, you tried to sit up, expecting him to finish up as well. But you got pulled down into the cushions again, being stared down by an annoyed Bucky. He shook his head at you and kept thrusting. "Isn't this what you wanted?" He spoke through gritted teeth, trying to steady himself as much as he possibly could with you clenched around him. You nodded frantically and quickly moved your hands down, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, hoping he wouldn't complain. Luckily he didn't, being too preoccupied with fucking you senseless and milking you dry. Drilling into you like it was the only thing he knew how to do. His hips snapped into yours aggressively, cock burying itself deeper in your ass, prodding at your prostate without mercy. After what felt like an eternity of being relentlessly pounded into and being brought to climax several times, you suddenly broke. "Hah, too much..." You moaned out, back arching off the couch and pushing you into Bucky. "It hurts, pl-ease!" Bucky ignored your cries, his pace increasing any time you started whining. He watched your cock twitch as he found your sweet spot again, moaning as you clenched around his shaft. You felt the familiar pressure build up in your abdomen again, pushing yourself off the couch with your elbows as you came for the nth time. Your red, sensitive tip rubbed up against your stomach, making you hiss and whine. Bucky suddenly slowed down, watching for your reaction. He heard you breathe out in relief, beginning to tear up and moving your hands to cover your face. A low chuckle escaped him, and he started thrusting into you again, reaching out for your cock as well. He pressed his palm against your tip, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing. You gasped, letting out a string of curse words and cries, the overstimulation completely taking over your body. "I can't do... it, please." You managed to choke out in between sobs and broken moans. Clenching around his cock, you looked at him through your blurred vision, tears rolling down your burning cheeks. Your hands flew down and grabbed onto Bucky, digging your nails into his forearm, begging him for mercy. Bucky grunted from the pain of your grip and started to pump your cock in retaliation, your sharp cries making him shiver. He began thrusting into you again, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you roll your eyes back, mouth hanging open. He dragged a finger over your stomach, coating his hand with your cum before he spread it on your member, revelling in the way your shaking body reacted to him. His free arm grabbed onto your waist, angling you on him before he began drilling into you again, prodding at your prostate again. Your eyes found his, watching as his face suddenly twisted. Bucky's grip on your cock never relaxed; instead, he started to pump your shaft faster as his thrusts became sloppy and erratic. Bucky looked down, watching your fucked out face, before he leaned over you, releasing into you with a loud groan. He snapped his hips up, pushing to stay deep inside of you. You felt his cock twitch, his release making you shiver and cry out in relief. It pushed you to release for the last time, hips snapping up into the air as pain wracked your body, cock painting your torso and covering you in cum. Bucky thrust into you one last time before he pulled out, trying to steady his breath before he wriggled his arm out of your grip and tucked his cock back into his pants. He watched as your body shook, not being able to calm down fully. His suit and shirt came off, and he kneeled down on the floor next to you, wiping both of you off carefully with his shirt. He let it fall to the floor, scooting over to you and placing his cold hand on your cheek, stroking away tears that rolled down your face. A pang of guilt surged through his body as you looked down at him, eyes puffy and wet. You turned and flashed him a sad smile, breathing heavily into your shoulder. His hand reached out behind your head, grabbing onto a blanket that he luckily had placed on the sofa before, bunching it up in his arms as he got up. Bucky returned to the couch and bent over you, helping you sit up. He wrapped his arms around you securely, making an attempt to prop you up against the backrest. You laid limp in his arms, still trying to catch your breath through quiet tears. You watched as he pulled out the blanket, spreading it out and wrapping it around your shaking body, hushing your cries. "You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you." He whispered soothingly and rubbed your back,

"Good boy, taking it all so well." Watching as you reached out a hand shakily, he took it in his, rubbing his thumb over your skin. Your breathing began to even out, eyes following Bucky's as his arms went under your legs and around you, scooting you over into his lap. He hugged your body closely, moving his head to kiss away the tears staining your cheeks. His right hand made its way up to your face, cupping your cheek and tucking your head under his chin. A loud hiss left you as your inner thigh brushed up against your still sensitive member, causing you to twitch and tense up. "Still hurts..." A quiet whine left you as you mumbled against the fabric, arching your back awkwardly. "...I'm all messy." Bucky grimaced and gave your side a gentle squeeze in an attempt to shift your focus. "I know, I know. It's gonna be hurting for a while, but you need to try to relax." He sighed deeply and peered down at you, "I'm not leaving until you can get up on your own." You hummed in response, snuggling into his lap, trying to stop shaking. A sudden feeling of anxiety bubbled up as you felt Bucky move until you realised that he was just trying to lay down with you on top of him. Your legs moved around, trying to find a comfortable position before you finally settled, hands grabbing onto the blanket and bringing it up to your face. Bucky brought his hand up from your waist and placed it on the back of your head, fingers massaging your scalp. He watched closely as your eyelids fluttered shut, making him sigh in relief. "I love you," His voice was soft and loving, barely above a whisper. "Such a good and patient boy, huh? Always holding out for me." He was finally praising you, making your stomach bubble up with pride. You lifted up a finger silently in acknowledgement and wiggled it around, listening to Bucky's soft chuckles in response as your mind began to cloud, leading you into a well-deserved slumber, your body ceasing its trembling.

[songmingisthighs]

[9.45] yeosang × single mom!reader

⇀ being a single mom, you'd obviously be worried about your child's wellbeing. In this case though? Your child's relationship with your boyfriend. But honestly, this is Kang Yeosang we're talking about, what could possibly go wrong?

When you got home that afternoon, the last thing you expected to see was your apartment being so quiet.

You've raised a beautiful baby girl on your own so it's only natural for you to experience chaos every day and ever since little Jueun started kindergarten, her social skills had progressed slightly.

Jueun, the light of your life, is a shy little girl, having only several constant people in her life which made her not so easily open to other people that she had just met. While other children would run off to make friends on the first day of kindergarten, Jueun went straight to the book collection about dinosaurs.

Yes, dinosaurs.

She's a little quirky like that.

Ask her what she wanna be when she grows up, she'll tell you she wants to be a princess with a pet ankylosaurus.

Knowing her introversion, you had hesitated on letting your boyfriend, Yeosang, and her to meet. It's not because you're afraid that they won't like each other or that Jueun would feel that you'd force him as her new daddy, but simply because you're afraid that they won't have anything to talk about.

You initially introduced them to each other when you had been in a relationship with Yeosang for 3 months, before that you had only told both of them stories about the other, buttering them up to like the other.

Not so surprisingly though, Yeosang had told you that he likes Jueun even before meeting her. Which was a relief to say the least. So when they met, Yeosang tried so hard to make Jueun like him. This effort doesn't go unnoticed by the little girl, but she didn't immediately take a liking to him. You've always been there to mediate between the two even though they had known each other for well over half a year now.

Today however, you had no other choice but to ask Yeosang for help picking Jueun up from kindergarten as you were swamped with a project at work.

Yeosang was more than happy to provide aid, but the notion that he'd be alone with the kid whom he doesn't know whether or not she likes him almost made him puke.

But he sucked it up.

He walk up to the gates of the kindergarten, approaching the teacher on standby, "I'm Kang Yeosang, I'm here to pick Jueun (Y/L/N) from class A-3," he said, smiling awkwardly. The teacher smiled brightly at him while nodding, "of course! Ms. (Y/L/N) called in earlier and told us that you'll be picking her up, I'll go get her," then she walked into the building to get Jueun.

Whilst waiting, Yeosang could feel himself sweating a little, nervous about how Jueun would react when seeing him instead of her mom.

When he saw Jueun came out with her backpack strapped on, looking cuter than a bunny with marshmallows stuffed into its cheeks, he smiled brightly at her.

Jueun's eyes wide when she saw Yeosang, having been familiar with him but never really surpasses any significant level with him.

"Hey, Jueun-ie," Yeosang greeted, crouching down to her height. She smiled shyly at him, making his insides clench at the effortless adorableness. "Your mommy need to work a little longer, would it be alright if I take you home?" Honestly, Yeosang didn't know why he asked that in the first place, but knowing that this particular little kid is smarter than most kids her age, he felt like the question was appropriate.

A sudden look of determination appeared on Jueun's face as she nodded eagerly. She knew how important she and Yeosang is to you. Knowing how much you love and provide for her, she's beyond willing to try and let Yeosang in.

Yeosang stood up and was about to walk but Jueun raised her right hand up at him, "safety, mommy said I have to hold her hand at all times, so I should hold yours," she said.

Hearing that, Yeosang smack his forehead dramatically, "ugh! Of course! How bad of me to be so careless!" He said as he grab Jueuen's hand as she giggled at how silly he sounded.

During the walk, Yeosang tried asked her questions about what she did at kindergarten that day. Surprisingly, Jueun blabbered long about what she did, what she ate, who did what, and when was that.

As they walk home, Jueun suddenly stopped her steps in front of the convenience store right outside your apartment. When her steps halt, Yeosang's too.

Yeosang was about to ask her why she stopped walking but Jueun was already looking at him with her best puppy eyes. He crouched down in front of her, "what's wrong Jueun-ie? Why did you stop?" he asked to which Jueun pouted and pointed at the convenience store, "I want ice cream," she said sadly.

Her eyes alone rendered him defenseless. But he was hesitant because he knows that this is not his kid and he doesn't know whether or not you'd let her eat ice cream.

"I don't know, Jueun," he muttered, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. Realizing he's not outwardly saying no, Jueun pulled out the big guns, "pleeeeeease," she whined, wrapping her tiny arms around Yeosang's neck, "please, daddy, please," she pleaded as her pout deepens.

The use of the 'd' word-

No, not THAT 'd' word.

The use of said 'd' word made Yeosang's eyes widen to its maximum extent.

"D-d-did you j-just called m-me..." he trailed off, not really able to said the word himself. Whether or not Jueun realizes how much the word affect Yeosang was unclear, but she definitely knows, based on Yeosang's expression that she's getting what she wants.

"Please, daddy?" she asked one more time.

And true to her prediction, Yeosang scooped her in his arms and walked into the convenience store, letting her pick any ice cream she wants.

Jueun now knows that she has Yeosang in the palm of her hands by simply uttering the word 'daddy' to him.

Which is why as you got home at 7.30, you were greeted with the sight of Yeosang and Jueun in her little tea party table, wearing a tiara and pretending to sip some pretend tea.

Oh, and best part is. Yeosang is also wearing a tiara and a pink feather boa around his neck.

"Wow, you guys seem to be having a lot of fun together," you smirked, breaking their conversation as the little girl jumps up and run to hug your legs.

Yeosang stood up as well, pulling the feather boa from around his neck to set it on the table. He walked closer and peck your lips, "welcome home, love, how was work?" you sighed and shook your head at his question, "disastrous, but I don't wanna talk about it, I wouldn't want to ruin the fun that you're both having right now," you grinned down at Jueun, "how did you manage to get Yeosang to wear a tiara, baby?"

Jueun shook her head excitedly, "I didn't, mommy! Daddy put it himself!" your eyes widened at her choice of pronoun, snapping your head towards Yeosang who had a big, proud grin on his face, "yeah... I guess I'm her daddy now," he chuckled as Jueun decided to run out of the room.

"Yeosang, we never talked about this," you said to him lowly, not really wanting Jueun to hear your worries. Yeosang's grin dropped to a frown as he steps closer to you, taking both of your hands in his, "why? Do you not want her to see me as a father figure?" "It's not that, it's just," you paused, thinking of the right words before continuing, "I don't want her to be attached to someone she considered her dad only for that someone to leave her,"

Hearing that from you made Yeosang realize that it wasn't just you worrying over Jueun, but you're also worrying about yourself too and how it would affect you and Jueun if he leaves.

Smiling gently at you, Yeosang leaned his forehead against yours, "you don't have to worry about me leaving because I'm not gonna, I'm gonna stay with you both until you all get sick of me and kick me to the curb," he joked, making you laugh, "so please, can we celebrate the fact that Jueun called me dad and that I'm moving in with you two?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, "who said you're moving in with us?" "I did, yeah, Jueun's convinced there's an evil sorcerer living in her closet and I promised her that I'll shoo him away every night before bedtime,"

It warms your heart knowing that your two favorite person got along so well. Had you known that leaving them both alone together would end up like this, you would've done it months ago.

You were about to comment on him moving in again when suddenly Jueun's voice was heard from the kitchen, "daddy! I can't- I can't reach the ice cream!"

As soon as you both heard that, you narrowed your eyes at Yeosang, "you bought my kid ice cream?" to which he rolled his eyes at you, "well she's my kid now too," he defended. You couldn't believe that you'd ever hear him say that but hearing that he's Jueun's dad seems so natural to you.

Giggling, you pushed him out of Jueun's room, "well then, please go and handle your daughter,". He blushed slightly as he tried to suppress the grin that was threatening to form on his face. So he opted to ran to Jueun.

But before he could walk too far, you grab his hand to say something.

"By the way, congrats on being a dad,"

[miss-tc-nova]

Weakness - Aymeric de Borel x WoL

I haven’t felt the inspiration strike me like this in a while and I’m really happy with this one. This is what finding the right song means to me and why I always write with music in my ears. I know it doesn’t always makes sense, but this is how I write. 

Minor Endwalker Spoilers!

Premise: Aymeric is struggling with his current situation. 

Music Inspiration: Lemon by Kenshi Yonezu

~~~~~~

              A scratching quill scrawls across the parchment, relaying words of congratulations. Yet the moment his concern inks the blank space, the scribe sighs his frustration and crumples the page in his palm, sending it to join the rest of the discarded messages piling in the corner.

              He can’t keep doing this.

              It’s been a few days since the end threatened the star. In that time, it feels as if the realm has been in perpetual celebration. Things have certainly begun slowing down, but the people of Eorzea are still basking in the euphoria of another promised day.

              Not Aymeric de Borel.

              The moment he heard of the expedition to the ends of existence headed by the fabled Warrior of Light, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and race to Sharlayan in hopes of…of doing something. It’s all moot now, but he’s still unsure if he would have been in favor of the feat or decried it. Even had he made an appearance to argue, he’s certain his words would have fallen on deaf ears; after all, the hero was never one to shy away from danger no matter the infinitesimal odds. And while that is something he treasures, the fact that the world is so helpless that it can only turn to the same, single individual over and over again breaks his heart. Hero or not, man can only endure so much before they break; even Aymeric, himself, will break should something dire befall the person he cherishes most.

              However, while he continues marching forward, the result may prove the same in the end. Not a single word of the Warrior of Light’s health has reached him since before the launch. Missives have been sent to inquire, but naught has returned with an answer one way or another. The elezen can only assume that the jubilee of the star’s citizens has simply delayed all communication, which is perfectly understandable—he keeps telling himself—and life continues in Ishgard, as does as his responsibility to her people.

              Not that there’s really a choice for him. Aymeric’s choice was made for him long ago, the moment he realized that he was a liability. Aymeric de Borel; Viscount of House Borel, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Aymeric the Blue; could be nothing more than a burden to the Warrior of Light.

              Frustrated hands shove through onyx hair as he convinces himself that yet another letter will not relieve him any sooner.

              In the beginning, he was certainly intrigued with the refugee, and as he watched their accomplishments first hand, it grew to admiration. There was no denying that he was dealing with someone who would go far, but he didn’t expect the adventurer to run away with his heart as well. Even as he became aware of what was happening, he knew it wouldn’t end well. Further and further down the rabbit hole he tumbled, snagging rose thorns as he fell. He never had a hope of courting someone that lead such an amazing life vastly different from his own, even so, part of him clung to a shred of hope he couldn’t banish within himself.

              Until another Scion confronted him.

              He’d only known the conjurer for mere hours before she’d miraculously managed to corner him alone. Her words still burn in his brain and bring a sting to his eyes.

              “You’d do well to keep your affection to yourself—if not for your sake, then for theirs.”

              She did not mince words when implying he would only hold the hero back. Aye, Aymeric would be crushed if he was rejected, on the other hand, the thought of his dearest faltering for one fatal moment because of him was devastating. Between the two, living in his unrequited lonesome was the more bearable option—no matter how much it killed him inside.

              Still, he cherished every moment. His carefully orchestrated act continued, but every bright smile and joyous laugh he could get, his heart held onto. He made his choice and he would walk that path, all while wishing the adventurer the best.

              The silence of the room blares in his ears, antagonizing the worry and rationality into conflict. The sheer desire to abandon Ishgard and flee to Sharlayan to demand answers is a bitter slap in the face of the man who used to dream of leading his home to a peaceful future. In all their time spent apart, Aymeric had started to think he’d finally begun moving past his infatuation; being left in the dark like this has dragged him back into that bottomless pit, thorns and all.

              Sanity wins the battle, compelling him to remain in his office. Worry wins the war, though, as the man shudders. Teeth grit together, trying to contain the grief, but it takes a different path, instead blurring his vision and leaking from his eyes. Fed up with his weakness—in his emotions and his battle prowess—fists slam onto the desk, only for a hand to slap across his mouth before a cry escapes him.

              To make matters worse, there’s a knock on the door. Desperately trying to rein himself in, Aymeric stands and faces away from the door.

              “Yes?” He thanks Halone his voice doesn’t break.

              “My lord.” It’s Lucia. “You have a visitor.”

              Predictably, in his most vulnerable moment a visitor would come calling. He’s alright though—he has to be.

              “Of course. Let them in.”

              “Yes sir.”

              He can hear his guest step into his office but takes that time to recompose himself as best he can. The courage to face them eludes him, however, so he elects to remain as he stands.

              “Mine apologies,” he says. “Pray do not think me rude, I simply—”

              It doesn’t matter if he’s a mess inside and out, the second his name rings out, the Lord Commander turns.

              There stands the Warrior of Light. Bruises, bandages, and scabs riddle the skin, but this surely is the vaunted hero in the flesh.

              Relief floods through the man. In three swift strides, he closes the gap to embrace his guest. He doesn’t care how unprofessional it is, he’s going to cling to the person he loves most as if his life depends on it.

              “I was so worried.” Never had Aymeric the Blue shown his weakness so plainly before, crying like a lost child.

              Hands press against his back, instigating the relief that instigates the sobbing. Nevertheless, the embrace holds him tightly. He knows this is unsightly, unbecoming, and maybe even abhorrent to the adventurer, but Lord Aymeric is drowning in his reprieve.

              And then he hears it. It doesn’t stop the tears but it does confound him enough to straighten up and peer into the eyes of his salvation.

              “I beg your pardon?” he murmurs, almost afraid to ask.

              That smile is one his heart will never be able to overcome.

              “I said I love you too.”

              That’s it for him. Aymeric de Borel; Viscount of House Borel, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Aymeric the Blue; completely breaks to the whim of the person he loves most.

              Who loves him back.

[tainted-wine]

Caring For Your Hormonally-Charged Bird

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

(I didn’t mean for this to turn into a monster with over 7k words, but I finally finished it. This is based off of my mutant headcanons and also takes some inspiration from user kazooli’s awesome thirst posts about Hawks. Happy Springtime, everyone!)

Edit: Now there’s a Part 2!

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

The songs of lovestruck birds rang across the streets. Freshly bloomed cherry blossoms rained petals down onto the pavement. Butterflies and bees hovered around the flourishing flowers. It was undoubtedly a beautiful day. Too bad you had to spend it in an office with an oncoming headache. A familiar voice spoke behind you.

“Wow, look at that. I don’t know what’s more gorgeous; the scenery outside or the lady staring at it.”

Hawks’s charm doesn’t affect you when he has pissed you off so many times in such a short span.

You’ve had the ‘privilege’ of working for the Hero Public Safety Commission for several years, from supporting public events to endless desk work. The pay was generous and life was overall more comfortable. All you had to do to stay on their good side was comply with every demand, ignore the condescending tones of the bigwigs, and turn a blind eye whenever you witnessed the occasional sketchy practice.

When they offered you a job as the personal handler of one of the top heroes of Japan, you almost fainted. You have always been a fan of Hawks. Fast, handsome, charismatic, he may not have the godly strength of All Might, yet he still felt just as flawless. You’ve been helping and guiding the winged young man since last summer and learned that he’s even more than what you imagined. He wasn’t just good-looking, he wasn’t just a sweet-talker…

He was also a fucking nightmare to work with.

You turned around to see said man ogling you a bit more than you were used to, his trademark crooked smile on his face, but you ignored that and went straight to business. “Your carelessness is trending again for the third time this week, Hawks.”

He drew a sharp breath in an exaggerated gasp. “Again? Oh, what could they possibly be on my ass for this time? Was I smacking on chicken wings too loudly in public? Did they catch the moment I almost flew into that crystal-clear window?”

You whipped out your phone, already prepared to show him a news page with a rather shocking photo. A man with an elegant and sleek appearance was beaten and bruised, his dazzling peacock tail fanned out behind him. The attacker was none other than Hawks, who was gripping the other man by the collar, his wings fully spread out with several sharpened feathers floating around his victim as an unnecessary precaution. It was a very aggressive display.

‘HAWKS LAYS SMACKDOWN ON PERVERTED PEACOCK’ was the headline.

“This is beyond excessive force. You could have just as easily restrained him with your quirk.” You scolded, fixing him with the steely authoritarian stare that you’ve been working on.

Hawks flinched, but you couldn’t tell if he was just playing with you or not. “Ma’am! I was simply defending the girl’s honor! She was very clearly uncomfortable and besides, wouldn’t flashing his tail like that be considered indecent exposure?” Yeah, that tone told you that he was clearly not intimidated.

“No, and even if it did, indecency and harassment wouldn’t excuse such a violent subduing. Furthermore,” you gestured at his threatening wing display in the photo. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were demonstrating similar behavior.”

He simply shrugged. “Just showing him who the bigger bird is around here.”

Your eye twitched. “For God’s sake, Hawks, you’re not an animal. Part of my job is ensuring that you maintain a friendly image that will keep the public at ease. This is not friendly. Shall I go through some of the comments for examples?” You scrolled down and cleared your throat in preparation. “Anyone else put off by how violent Hawks looks here? I didn’t know he had it in him to beat someone down like that. He’s usually all about being quick and efficient.” You scrolled down to the next one. “What’s the deal with Hawks? I was there and it was like watching a cockfight.” You clicked on a reply to that particular comment. “I know, right? I always wanted to meet Hawks in person, but after that, I was honestly too scared to-”

“Hold on, babe, I know you’re cherry-picking here,” Hawks, the little bastard, had taken out his own phone while listening to your reading. “Because those are nothing like my personal faves that I found on my Tweeter page.” You watched with silent frustration as his eyes scanned his phone until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here we go. ‘Oh my GAWD, that look, those spread wings, he looks like such a beast!” He had raised the pitch of his voice for a mock feminine tone. “Leave it to Hawks to make all of us women feel safe. That pervert deserves to lose a few more teeth.’ Oh, and here’s the winner right here. ‘Just as I always expected, that hunk of a bird knows how to dominate. I can just imagine him towering over me, giving that same look while I take his big fat-”

“Hawks.”

He paused, but his shit-eating grin didn’t fade when he noticed your head being held in one of your hands. You hoped he didn’t notice that you were trying to hide the red that crept into your cheeks.

“…cock.”

You groaned loudly enough to most definitely be heard outside of the office. There truly were days when he would cut you some slack and be easy to deal with, but he has become downright unbearable for the past few weeks. His teasing has increased ten fold, yet he’s also been keeping his distance from you for whatever reason. It had taken you a while to notice, but he was normally more than happy to get in your face and ruin your professional act, but now, even when you’re the one trying to approach, he would casually step back to prevent the gap between you from closing.

And then it hit you.

Shit, it shouldn’t have taken you this long to connect the dots. You had even noticed how his wings appeared to be a shade brighter for the past few days, but dismissed it as a trick of the light. No, he had grown in his spring plumage.

“Uh, babe? You still there? Did the ‘C’ word break you?” Watching you stare into space was getting him a little concerned.

“You’re rutting,” was your simple reply.

Hawks’s face flashed into something more serious for a split second before giving a ‘tsk’ and looking away. “Took you long enough,” he scoffed. “Surprised the Commission hasn’t fired you for letting me go wild for so long. They must not have any replacements available right now.”

“Watch it,” you ordered. You pondered for a moment before asking, “Have you not been taking your hormonal medication? I know that you’ve been prescribed some for this time of year.”

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, as if he was the one who should be feeling annoyed right now. Bitch, please. “Sometimes,” he muttered.

“Sometimes? They don’t work if you only take them sometimes, Hawks. I know you’re a busy hero, but you can put some effort into keeping track of your dosage.”

“Look,” it was the first time you’ve seen a genuine scowl on his face, the expression taking you back. “I just really hate that stuff, okay? They sap all of my energy and I put on a few extra pounds.”

You shook your head at his complaints. “Is that really worse than what you’re dealing with right now?”

“Yes. I’d rather be a horndog than a slug that doesn’t even have the will to move. It wouldn’t even be so bad if I could just sleep around every now and then, but that’s more trouble than it’s worth. I don’t wanna make your job that miserable.” He eyed you up and down for a minute, while you tried not to shy away from his piercing gaze. “Or I could find just one loyal partner that will help me scratch the itch?”

You stepped back, your heart racing at the unspoken request. “E-excuse me?” you stuttered.

Hawks raised his hands harmlessly. “Hey now, it’s just a suggestion. I’m pretty into you, you’re obviously into me, this could work out pretty well.”

An array of emotions were flowing through you, but you were more upset than anything else. “And what exactly makes you think I’ve been ‘into you’, as you’ve said?” Denial. You’re pretty sure that’s what this is. You know that you’ve been attracted to him since before you even met, but you weren’t going to let this overgrown brat have his way.

His sudden burst of laughter startled you. “You’re kidding, right? I still remember that look you had the first time we were in this room together, and it wasn’t the innocent ‘I wanna support my favorite hero’ look,” He was willingly approaching you for the first time in what felt like forever, every step sounding like thunder to your ears. “It was a ‘bend me over the desk and fuck me’ look.”

You were the one stepping back this time. You wanted to remind him not to use such foul language, to berate him for making such vulgar claims, but your voice was caught in your throat.

“We’d be doing each other a favor, right?” he continued, wings slowly expanding. “Keeping me in top shape is part of your job, isn’t it? I promise you that I’m gonna feel a lot better after this.”

You bumped into his desk, leaning back slightly as he finally closed the distance. His wings draped around each side of you, filling your peripheral vision with pure red. His face was only inches away from yours as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“You’ve been smelling so damn good lately. Been afraid that I just might pounce you if I get too close.”

A thickly gloved hand reached out and cupped your face with such a surprising amount of tenderness, you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel bare. You were so entranced by his lustful gaze that you couldn’t find it in you to resist as he leaned in, feeling his hot breath as his lips drew closer to yours.

The door busted open accompanied by a shout. “Hawks sir! Your help has been requested at-OH!”

A genuine growl rumbles through Hawks’s throat and damn, that makes you tremble. By the time he turns toward the stumbling sidekick, he was already back to his cool and friendly self.

“Don’t stop on my account, buddy,” he beamed the younger man with an unwavering smile. “What’s the request?”

———

The next day, you tried very hard to pretend that little office incident never happened. You were not going to let something so unprofessional ever happen again. That was a promise.

Hawks, on the other hand, was being a persistent bastard. You were determined to win this battle. If he wanted the urges to go away so badly, then he can take his damn medication like he always has, not use your lack of authority and experience as an excuse to rebel. The only reason you haven’t informed the Commission about this is because you know that your head will be on the chopping block as well as Hawks’s. You will most definitely be in some shit once they realize that you can’t keep their most prized possession in check.

And to be fair, as the week went on, you really were wondering if you were cut out for this job. With his wings getting more vibrant, his advances becoming more frequent, and his feral rivalry against other men growing more severe, Hawks has officially become too unruly for you to handle, and you’re the goddamned handler. You couldn’t lose this job! What if they terminated you completely and you couldn’t get another position from the Commission?

You paced back and forth in the empty office. Hawks was late this morning, leaving you alone with your endless worries. He may act lazy, but he was never actually late for his meet ups. Looks like you’ll have to call him and pray that nothing serious has happened.

You jumped when your phone vibrated before you even reached into your pocket. Ah, looks like Hawks reached out before you did. You held your phone up, prepared to answer, and froze.

It wasn’t Hawks. It was the deputy, the very man that was kind enough to give you this job. He hasn’t called you since your first few days here to help get you started. With your progress, you doubt he was calling to give you a raise.

Well, as much as you wanted to throw the phone out of the window and find an appropriate place to bury yourself, you didn’t make it this far by cowering from these guys. Taking a deep breath, you picked up and greeted the man on the other side with a steady voice. “Good morning, Deputy.”

He addressed you with the same bored and unimpressed tone that you hear from every member in this cursed organization. Jeez, if you keep working here long enough, are you going to eventually sound as soulless as them? “I assume you are aware of Hawks’s current condition?” he asked.

Dammit. “My apologies, sir. I know that I have been neglectful of Hawks’s health and his behavior during this time. I have been doing my best t-”

“That isn’t the issue I am talking about, but thank you for confirming that you have indeed failed in keeping Hawks’s unsavory habits under control.” You flinched. Way to rat yourself out. “Hawks had managed to find and subdue the troublesome villain Libido.”

“Ah, of course. I have been informed of that, sir.” Libido was a cunning little criminal that has been causing trouble all over the city of Fukuoka. His ‘Love Breath’ quirk gave him the ability to exhale fumes with powerful aphrodisiacal qualities. The guy even made his own gas bombs, releasing them among unsuspecting crowds in the public. He was less of a villain and more of just a chaos-loving hoodlum that was too slippery for his own good.

The deputy carried on. “One of the sidekicks has told us that Hawks was exposed to his quirk.”

Oh. Oh dear. That’s some strong stuff to be subjected to.

“We have ordered Hawks to go home immediately and wait patiently instead of heading to a hospital. We will be sending treatment his way.”

Some of the tension left your body. “That’s good to know, sir. May I ask what kind of treatment he will be taking? I know I haven’t convinced you yet, but I want to do anything I can for his well being.” You hesitantly asked. Please, oh please let me make up for everything that has been happening.

You heard a faint chuckle from the other end. “That’s very good to know, because the treatment is you.”

You’re glad he couldn’t see the confusion on your face. “I’m sorry, sir. Are you saying I’ll be the one to doctor him? I’ll need to know what medicine he needs and how much rest he’ll be expected to-”

“Do you know how people affected by aphrodisiac quirks are normally treated?” he interrupted you for the second time. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before continuing. “Given your questions, I’m assuming that you don’t. We can indeed offer drugs to weaken the effects, but Hawks will still be in great distress and will take a long time to recover, especially since he’s neglected to take his hormone medication with the help of an incompetent handler.” Ugh, you get it already. You screwed up. “But the quickest and most efficient remedy is, without a doubt, sexual contact and allowing the quirk to run its course. That is what we expect you to provide for him.”

What.

You took a full minute to collect your thoughts and ensure that you heard everything correctly. The deputy waited patiently. How kind of him. Once you gathered yourself, you conjured the most constructive response you could think of.

“Huh?”

An overly loud sigh sounded in your ear. Hey, it’s his fault for dropping this bomb of a request on you. “We can’t have the number two hero out of action for too long. The alternative is to strap him to a bed and sedate him for an uncertain amount of time. His rut has enhanced the quirk’s effects; this may even strengthen his arousal for the rest of the season.”

Your face paled. That sounds ten times worse than the way Hawks was already acting. “So, if I were to…be with him,” you blushed at the very thought. “That would provide the best relief?”

“That is the gist of it. You told me you would do anything for Hawks’s well being. Can I hold you to that?”

Your pounding heart was almost drowning out his voice. You didn’t mean to corner yourself like this. “O-of course. I’ll see what I can, um, do.” This discussion was getting uncomfortable.

“I didn’t expect you to be so hesitant. You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.” He laughed at his own joke. You sure as hell weren’t laughing with him.

“Yeah, of course, sir,” you grumbled. “I suppose I shouldn’t leave Hawks alone for too long. I’ll be on my way soon.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You’ll need to take some precautions, of course. Here’s what you need to keep in mind…”

———

You walked out of the local pharmacy, cradling the pills tightly to your chest like some sort of security blanket. The deputy’s advice echoed in your head.

“It’s best that you take contraceptives. Hawks’s mind will be clouded with feral cravings, such as the urge to breed. He is not going to accept condoms.”

You tossed the pills onto the passenger seat in your car.

“Again, Hawks is suffering from both the magnified effects of Libido’s quirk and his annual rut. It’s possible that he will not be of sound mind. If things get out of hand, you have the right to protect yourself.” the deputy paused for a moment. “Just try not to leave any marks on him, if you can. Hawks must look presentable at all times.”

Well, you did have a stun gun that you thankfully never had to use, and hopefully it will stay that way.

The deputy’s help made you way more anxious than before. Were you about to have sex with a horny man, or tame a dangerous beast? You still didn’t know what to make of this predicament.

You take your phone and select Hawks’s number. It’s probably best not to surprise him at his door. Hopefully he wasn’t too riled up and ignores your call.

The phone rings once, then twice, then you hear…whimpers? Shit, was it getting that bad?

“Hawks? Are you there?” you asked calmly.

“Babe.” Goodness, his voice was rough. He sounds like he just ran across the country. “Oh thank God. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

“Wha—no.” This was a mistake. You really weren’t prepared for such levels of horniness. He just blurted that out like it was nothing! “Look, um, I heard your urges are becoming too much to handle. I’m heading on over there to…help you.”

For a while you just heard what sounded like breathless laughs and weeping. Hearing him in such a fragile state had you genuinely concerned. “Y’serious? We’re-ah-we’re gonna fuck?” He was panting heavily between words.

Heat was gathering in your face. “Yes, that’s the plan.”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Get over here-fuck-so I can stuff you, babe. You’re gonna be mine. Oh I can’t wait to fucking have you.” This sounded like a goddamned porno and you couldn’t handle it. There was a strange sound in the background as he rambled, something like wet smacks. You kept hearing it in sync with his grunts and…

Oh.

“Just hang in there, alright?” You said quickly, wanting to end this call right now. “I’m coming.”

“Well, I’m not. My hand’s really not doin’ it for me. Gotta be inside you, babe. Gotta cum in that tight-“

You hung up.

You banged your head against the steering wheel harder than intended, but at least the pain got your mind off of…whatever all of that was. You can’t believe you just heard your favorite hero breathlessly talking about how he wants to bang you while jerking off. You didn’t know it was possible to feel this mortified, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was the tingle between your legs.

Hawks, one of the top heroes of Japan, the heartthrob of the generation, was lusting for you. It had you both excited and on edge. You remember the deputy’s comment.

“You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.”

You probably would indeed be thrilled if the circumstances were less dire. Your fantasies normally involved something simpler and more romantic, not saving him from his own sex-hazed mind. You still weren’t sure what you were walking into, and that was admittedly a different kind of excitement.

There was no time to waste with the state Hawks was in. Calming your nerves, you started your car and began taking the route to his place.

———

Here you are, at the doorstep of Hawks’s house. His place was surprisingly humble for a top hero, it made this encounter just a little less nerve-wracking. Pressing a finger to the buzzer, you waited anxiously, rocking back and forth on your heels. You really hope he’ll be dressed decently when he answers the door.

Your heart skips once you hear a click and the doorknob twists. It feels like it takes an eternity for the door to open and reveal…nobody.

Instead, you were greeted by a small flock of feathers suspended in the air. They slowly floated a distance away from you before stopping, as if they were waiting for something. You cautiously stepped inside, some of the feathers closing the door behind you. You don’t know what type of welcome you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. The feathers guided you, drifting up a flight of stairs and into a room with its door hanging open. You can hear harsh breathing inside, reigniting your fear. “Hawks?” You hesistantly called out without getting any closer.

A cracking voice cried out your name. “Help me. It fucking hurts. I’m so hot. Make it stop.” He sounded like he was crying. The desperate pleas prompted you to mask your fears for the umpteenth time and approach the room, taking in the sight of the man that has been waiting for you.

Hawks was naked, not to your surprise, but still to your absolute horror. He sat on his bed, skin glistening with sweat and a deep blush spreading throughout his upper body, making him look more feverish than aroused. His chest heaved with the irregular breaths that left his hanging mouth. His hair was even more unruly as usual, some of his locks sticking to his damp face. Your eyes locked onto his, pupils dilated and looking right through you.

He looked awful.

You came closer, trying your best not to stare at the very swollen and throbbing member between his legs. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, stopping right in front of him. “I didn’t think it would get this bad. I-I want to help. Just tell me what to do.”

He was on his feet the moment you finished, nude body just inches away from yours, but you kept your feet planted where they were. As his large wings slowly opened and enclosed around you, you noticed how brilliantly hued his feathers have become, practically glowing a vivid scarlet. It was captivating.

Two clammy hands came up to hold your face, the same hands he was furiously pleasuring himself with just a moment ago holy shit, and his mouth was on yours before you could even react. You gasped in shock of it all, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. It was less of a kiss and more of just him hungrily ravaging every inch of your mouth, your own tongue wrestling with his to keep him away from the back of your throat. One of his arms lowered to wrap around your waist and pull you flush against his bare form, making you yelp when you felt his erection pressing against you. Hawks’s dick was on you.

You were too overwhelmed by his restless mouth and his DICK to notice the stray feathers hovering over you. A tug and a loud rip made you jolt. Hawks held you still, the sound of expensive fabric tearing making you flinch as your skin was slowly being exposed. The feathers were shredding your clothes.

You pulled away from his suffocating mouth just enough to take a breath and attempt to speak. “Hawks! Wha—” only for him to smother you once again.

“Don’t move,” he uttered between kisses. “Don’t want to cut you.”

With a few more slashes, your cherished suit was now scattered on the carpet in tatters, revealing your body to him, but the feathers weren’t done. The floating blades carefully slid under your panties and bra. You stood completely still, Hawks kissing you with less aggression in an attempt to soothe you as the feathers sliced through the last of your clothes. You were now just as bare as him. He simply held you tightly, face rubbing against yours with the occasional lick against your heated skin. Your eyes were closed shut, unable to process his frantic tongue, his surrounding body that felt like fire, his cock that was now pressed to your stomach you were going to drop dead holy shit.

“Smell so good. Tastes so good.” he groaned, still sounding short of breath. His mouth went down to your neck, sucking at it hungrily and giving the occasional nip, forcing a faint moan out of you. He continued his descent and reached your breasts, molding them roughly and attacking your nipples with hard sucks. Despite the rough treatment, a tight heat was building up in your abdomen, your hands cradling his head as he explored you. He ventured lower, now on his knees with his face right at your womanly mound.

Your heart was pounding when he leaned in, his nose lightly touching you as he drew in a long breath and giving a pleased sighed. His nose pressed in further and poked at your glistening pussy, your thighs clenching in surprise while he happily took in your scent. Fuck, he was really just kneeling between your legs and smelling you. You were ready to protest and tell him that this was getting too embarrassing before something wet and hot slid against your folds, replacing your planned words with a yelp.

Hawks apparently approved of your taste, strong hands grasping the back of your thighs as he brought you in closer to fully devour you. Your cries were impossible to hold in while he lapped at you, mind becoming too clouded with pleasure to stay modest. He moaned loudly into you, the erotic sound vibrating against you, tongue fondling every inch of your folds before his lips closed around them, sucking greedily and almost making your knees collapse. You were getting close, grasping onto his head in a desperate attempt to stay balanced, his mouth now assaulting your sensitive bud. Your blissful whimpers joined the filthy sounds of his feasting when your orgasm washed over you like throbbing magma. Once your legs lost the last of their strength, Hawks set you down gently on the floor, still licking your sensitive lips.

“Ah, Hawks…too much…” You whined weakly.

He got the message and pulled away to immediately climb over you, giving you a clear view of his face glistening with your juices. Bright wings were fully spread out once more; it feels like you were about to be taken by an angel, the most savage angel you could ever imagine.

He came down for a sloppy kiss, spreading your own womanly nectar all over your lips. “Hope you’re nice and ready now. Ready to take everything I’ve got.” He mumbled against your mouth. You couldn’t help but smile and feel grateful that even in such a frenzied state, he was still kind enough not to jump you the moment you were within sight.

You brought a hand up to caress the side of his face, watching his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into your touch like the needy animal that he was at the moment. His body was still unnaturally hot and he was still breathing harshly. It’s time to finally give this poor man some relief.

“Go ahead, Hawks. I’m all yours.” You were indeed ready for everything he has.

Hawks said no more, gripping himself and aiming right for your opening. The moment his head was pushing past your lips, he thrust forward, filling you completely and knocking the wind out of you.

You honestly thought he came right then and there with the totally profane howl that left him. “Fuck…!” he choked, looking on the verge of tears. Despite the seemingly paralyzing pleasure, he wasted no time in moving, his pace quickening at an alarming rate. Your pussy was still sensitive from his wonderful licking, his dick currently sending painfully powerful shocks that you just weren’t ready for, and yet heat began to pool within your core for a second time. Your arms were wrapped around his sweaty form, nails biting into his skin and forcing rugged grunts out of his throat.

The wet slaps of your bodies rang throughout the room, your limbs quivering as he pumped into you faster, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, full and prepared to pour every drop of its contents into your womb. Hawks had buried his head into the crook of your neck, letting you feel every breathless moan right against your ear.

All you could do was hold on and take the increasingly rough pounding. His rhythm was sloppy from the start, but the thrusts were becoming even more irregular as a sign that he was already reaching his peak. Not surprising, given the state that he’s been in all day. One well-aimed thrust hits your sweet spot, making you moan loudly against him.

The sound eggs him on, driving his hips at a bruising pace and fuck it feels so good it hurts. Your eyes shut tightly as another orgasm breaks free, your feminine walls clamping around Hawks, squeezing his own climax out of him. You gasped at the powerful throbs of his cock as it shot out stream after stream of cum inside you. The purely animalistic growl that rumbled through him had you shaking in the best way while you watched his wings twitch and flap, hitting you with a light gust.

After an impressive amount of spurts, Hawks collapsed on top of you. He was heavy, but having his weight on you like this was pretty nice. You rubbed soothing circles around his back, listening to the rather inhuman cooing sounds he made in response.

You just had sex with Hawks, your favorite hero and the very man you were paid to look after. Oh man, how badly have you screwed up your relationship? Not that you two had much of a bond in the first place, but now things will most certainly get even more awkward.

A twitch inside you interrupted your thoughts. What the hell? Hawks’s breathing was accelerating again as he suddenly lifted his weight off of you, and that’s when you realized even though he came, he was still hard.

With newfound energy, he pushed your thighs towards your chest and rammed into you before you could even register what was happening. His new angle had you seeing stars with each thrust, hitting you even deeper than before. The sensation was dizzying, your overstimulated body beginning to throb all over. Hawks had the most obscene expression on his face, glazed eyes watching your tits bounce while his mouth hung open, drool trailing down his chin. You didn’t know such a look existed outside of adult videos, and having it aimed at you was enhancing your stinging pleasure.

Looking down granted you the view of his drenched dick pushing into you, each slam of his hips rocking you into the carpet, which honestly burned like ouch. Thankfully Hawks was reaching his tipping point once again, his hips moving at a bruising pace before one final smack. You were spoiled with another wonderful image of his head thrown back as a choked moan escaped him, another round of cum shooting into you.

He finally slid out of you as he sat back to catch his breath, wings limply dropping to his sides. Finally. You didn’t know how much more your womanhood could take. The strain of moving your legs made you wince. Did he have to pin you so roughly?

Hawks watched silently as you pushed yourself up. You felt behind your back and…dammit, you really did bruise back there. Maybe you should go find a mirror; hopefully it didn’t look too bad. You noticed that Mr. Horny Wings continued to just stare, pupils still enlarged and his dick was still hard what the fuck. He suddenly shifted onto all fours and crawled behind you. The light brush of fingers over your blemished skin made you shiver. They weren’t big enough to be that painful, but you still hissed when he applied a little too much pressure, making him pull away.

“Sorry.” His voice was still raspy as he apologized.

You shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Could’ve been wor—AH!”

Hawks shoved you forward, manhandling you until you were properly on your hands and knees. Fuck, your entire lower body was starting to ache, and here he was, ready to go another round. The head of his still-swollen dick was already pressing at your entrance. Grasping your hips, he pushed past your puffy lips and re-entered your heat. You bit your bottom lip and took the limitless strength in his hips, his balls sometimes smacking right into your clit and bringing you closer to your next climax.

His pace slowed down briefly in order to lower himself and suck at your bruises. “Nnngh, fuck, Hawks!” The combined pain and pleasure had your insides burning. He moaned and panted into your back, kissing up to your neck and sucking there as well. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso, pressing your body against his in an intimate embrace as he plunged into you more deeply.

It was impossible to not moan after each stroke. His face rested on your shoulder, and you reached behind to bury a hand in his hair. Shit, this was all getting so intimate. He was holding you and was so close, you could feel the ripple of his muscles as he caressed every inch of your inner walls. Your third burst of pleasure had you quivering against him as he continued to chase his own orgasm, stars appearing in your vision with each thrust. Hawks sank his teeth into your neck before bottoming out and releasing more cum inside you.

Both of you were lost in your sensual spasms before you collapsed. Hawks didn’t lay on you completely this time, his sweat-soaked form crouched over you, close enough to still be inside of you…

And rock hard.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

You stayed as you were, your face down and your ass up, as you felt him humping away at you again. You could barely whimper as your tender pussy took another pounding. Christ, why wasn’t he getting tired? If the quirk was getting any closer to wearing off, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

It wasn’t long before he came again, grunting with each hard buck as he filled you with his apparently endless supply of cum. Was he done? Please be done. You turned your head just enough to check the state of his erection.

Nope.

Hawks had enough mercy to carry you to his much more comfortable bed before continuing. He took you again.

And again

And again.

You were positively ruined, no more strength left in your body as he repeatedly claimed you with fervor. Whenever it appeared you were getting uncomfortable in a certain position, he would simply switch things up before carrying on. Despite how utterly exhausted and raw you felt, your orgasms kept coming, every surge of pleasure clouding your mind more and more.

You had lost track of time. Was this his fifteenth go? seventeenth? Keeping count was becoming a drag. It didn’t help that Hawks was in too much of a trance to even speak, giving you nothing but moans and growls. At least he didn’t sound on the verge of tears anymore, so maybe he was making progress.

Another orgasm was approaching; could your tired body even handle it? You were laying on the edge of the bed as Hawks stood and fucked you. Even through all of the overwhelming passion, you never got tired of staring at his wings, the dazzling red never failing to mesmerize you. They fluttered rapidly as the tension in your core spilled over, your mouth opening in a silent scream and a blackness closing in on you with every blink.

Your body was finished.

———

Everything hurts.

That’s the first thing you noticed when you woke up and made the mistake of stretching. Your arms and legs ached, a sharp pain shot through your back whenever you shifted, and between your legs…well, the throb down there didn’t at all feel pleasurable anymore.

Still, you fought the pain to sit up and examine yourself. Your nether regions were surprisingly clean, almost as if someone had already taken care of it. With all of the cum Hawks pumped into you, it should frankly be an awful mess down there.

Speaking of, where was the guy?

“Hey.”

Oh, there he was leaning in the door frame. He had obviously tidied up, no longer a flushed and sweaty wreck, and was now sporting a pair of loose pants and a tee. You had never seen him looking so casual. It was probably a privilege very few had, and knowing that ignited something in your chest.

He glanced around before looking back at you. “You alright?”

Realizing you were just gawking at him and haven’t said anything yet, you coughed to ensure your voice was still clear and functioning. “I’m fine.”

He snickered. It was a sound you were used to whenever he knew he had the upper-hand in some way, but something about it felt softer this time. “I just fucked you into high heaven for a whole day.” He could’ve acknowledged it in a less shameless manner, dammit. “I just wanna know if you’re alright. You look pretty stiff.”

A jolt shot through your lower back in perfect timing with his statement, making you flinch. “Yeah, I’m—I’m pretty sore. Very sore,” you admitted.

“Ah,” He stood up straight. “I’ll go get some, uh, pain relief. Be right back.” And with that, he was out of your sight.

You waited patiently for his return, actually observing his bedroom for the first time. It was surprisingly bare, the room of someone who didn’t spend much time at home. There was a window that you didn’t notice and holy shit he was right. It was nighttime; you spent the entire day in Hawks’s bedroom. The fangirl in you was squealing in delight. You told her to shut the hell up.

The man returned with a glass of water in one hand, a pill in the other, and a set of clothes draped across his arm. “Here,” he handed the water and medicine over before sitting beside you on the bed. You gulped down the capsule, sputtering a bit as the cold water flowed down your dry throat. “I’ve got some clothes that might fit you well enough. Sorry about your suit. I’ll give you some money for a new one.”

He’s never sounded so wooden before and you couldn’t stand it. You let out your best good-hearted laugh as you took the offered clothes. “Stop that, Hawks. You sound as bland as your bosses right now,” you joked.

He laughed along with you. “Heh, sorry babe. Just worried that I came on a little too strong at the beginning there.”

You simply hummed in response. His clothes were so warm and smelled like him. Despite being surrounded by his strong scent for hours, you still welcomed it.

“So…looks like you’re feeling better.” You took in his appearance again now that he was closer. There was still a tinge of red in his face, but he seemed overall back to his usual relaxed self.

“Oh yeah, much better. The feeling’s still there, honestly,” he saw your eyes widen and instantly blurted out, “Just barely! I can ignore it and think clearly just fine now.” A boyish smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’ve got a hero. You really saved me back there.”

A ridiculous snort left you after hearing such praise. “Is that all it takes to be the great Hawks’s hero? I’m flattered.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” He looked you square in the face, and you couldn’t look away from his sincere expression. “It’s never been that bad before. Not gonna lie, I’m embarrassed you saw me like that. That was worse than all of my teenage ruts combined. Damn villain’s quirk really messed me up, felt like I was going fucking rabid. I don’t know what state I’d be in if it weren’t for you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to respond to his gratitude. “You’re welcome,” was all you could say. “You don’t need to feel bad about it. It’s…” You looked down at your feet. “It’s not like I didn’t like it. It was very draining, honestly lost track of time at a certain point, but it, uh, it was an experience.”

Hawks nodded in response. “Sure was. Never thought I’d rail a girl so hard and for so long that she’d pass out. I’m impressed with myself.”

“Hawks.”

He hung his head in mock shame. “My apologies, ma’am! I completely forgot that such vulgar language isn’t tolerated around you.” And there’s the infuriating grin that you were beginning to miss.

Both of you were laughing, slowly melting away the tension and stress that filled the room since morning. This…this was nice.

“So, you probably still don’t feel all that great, sooo…” Hawks rubbed at the back of his neck. “You wanna stay for dinner? Already ordered a chicken pizza with some wings.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows. “Taking me to dinner after the sex?”

“Hey now, you know me. ‘The hero who’s too fast for his own good.’ Sometimes I miss a step or two.” He winked before getting up to leave. “You just lay there and rest, and go pee already. Don’t need an infection on top of everything else you’re going through. I already cleaned up the horrifying scene between your legs.”

You shuddered at the crude comment before falling backwards onto the poor mattress that had endured so much today.

Tomorrow, it will be back to professionalism. Back to pretending that you’re Hawks’s superior. Back to sucking up to the Commission. You’re going to cherish every minute of tonight, enjoying the company of Keigo Takami, not Hawks.

A shout echoed from downstairs. “The bathroom’s still empty, babe! Get your ass in there and pee!”

[damn-stark]

Sweet Creature

Jean Kirstein x reader

Request by anon “(This is my first time doing this so im not too sure if this is right sorry) But for you Jean requests could you do one where the reader thinks they’re just an acquaintance to him because they think he likes Mikasa but after Marco dies he can’t sleep and comes to the reader and just falls asleep with them, on their lap or something and from then on he kinda tails them like a little puppy because he can only sleep when he’s near them? Sorry if that’s a lot haha”

A/N- this is my first aot imagine, I hope you all like it :)

Warning- angst and...fluff

———-

Was it ridiculous to be petty and jealous over something so miniscule as your crush liking someone else? Knowing that as much as you tried, he would only see you as a simple friend and nothing else; because he seemed to have eyes just for one girl?

And sure, him liking Mikasa was reasonable, she was beautiful and spectacular when it came to fighting. Who wouldn’t crush on her?

“Hey! Hey!”

But would Jean ever see you like he saw Mikasa?

“HEY!”

Suddenly someone shakes your shoulders and pulls you from your stupor. The sudden action making you jump and rip your eyes away from Jean who sat on the other side of the porch talking with Mikasa, to look over your shoulder to spot that it was Sasha, who had so suddenly and rudely startled you.

“Sasha?! What the hell?!” You exclaim whilst you grab onto your chest.

Said girl shrugs nonchalantly as she sits at your side. “You didn’t answer the first time I called out to you, I had to pull your attention somehow—” Sasha pauses to take a bite of one piece of bread in her hand, proceeding to chew quickly to swallow her food and continue talking. “I snatched two pieces of bread, want one?”

You shake your head and her eyes glow with joy.

“Good,” she interjects happily, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

You roll your eyes and glance Jean’s way one last time, this time actually meeting his gaze as he looks your way at the same time.

It was unexpected and caught you by surprise, but you don’t let yourself freeze, you feel your eyes widen and a burning heat grow on your face, but you manage to tear your gaze away and jump out of your seat with Sasha in hand to escape your awkward moment, (self made awkward moment).

So much for not making yourself so obvious—idiot.

“Careful!” Sasha exclaims, “my bread!”

——

Maybe it would’ve been easier to get eaten by a titan today. It would’ve helped you from having to experience that awkward moment with Jean.

What if he found out you liked him? What does he think?

No, he couldn’t possibly know, it was just simple eye contact...but what if you running off like an idiot gave that away?

No, no…..you’re thinking too much into this...Jean doesn’t know anything...he just sees you as a friend…

You put your blades down on your lap and exhale loudly, proceeding to shove your head in your hands and expressing a groan.

The only reason you somehow stop overthinking today's events, is when you hear your name called out by the front door. When you look up, your eyes slightly widen at the sight of Jean coming in.

“Are you okay?” He asks with a lifted brow.

You nod and put your blades back where they belong, showing him a shy smile while you watch him walk towards you.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He probes as he sits on the empty space on the ground beside you.

“Hardly,” you shake your head. “It’s been hard to really sleep for the past five years now.”

Jean sighs. “Yeah.” He pauses slightly before continuing. “What are you doing here all alone?”

You shrug and study the empty and abandoned cabin. “Sasha, Connie and I like to come here when we have time to talk. Since I couldn’t sleep I decided to come here just to clear my mind.”

Jean hums as a response, making you turn your head to look at him, watching as he keeps his gaze focused on the lamp that sat out in front of the both of you. Since he didn’t talk back you continue and point out what you notice. “But you, it looks like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I can’t.”

“Well you should,” you add, trying to hide the fact that your cheeks were burning again at the simple sight of him and of what you intended to say to him. “I wouldn’t want you lacking on the battlefield and getting eaten because you’re exhausted.”

Jean lips tug into a smile.

A smile that makes your heart flutter and look away so he wouldn’t catch on to such an affect.

“I’ll manage,” Jean says in a cocky tone, unbeknownst to you, turning his head to look at you to continue. “Plus I have you watching my back and well,” he looks away from you and shrugs nonchalantly as he leans back. “I’m a great fighter.”

“Oh,” you scoff lightheartedly, “and how do you plan on continuing to be a great fighter if you don’t sleep?”

“Like Mikasa, out of sheer will.”

This time you chuckle and shake your head at his comment. “I don’t think Mikasa is such a great role model because I don’t think she’s actually human.”

Jean chuckles, “that’s true.” He looks at you again and this time your gazes meet. “I’ll fight like you then, recklessly and bravely.” Jean shoots you a charming smile seconds after and you can’t help but feel flustered and look somewhere else.

“Well I also sleep,” you interject as you try and surpass the flustered feeling. “That’s how I’m a great fighter too.”

Jean sighs and you feel his stare rip away from your face. He lets silence cover the both of you before he hesitantly decides to reply. “It’s hard to…”he pauses to swallow thickly. “...it’s hard to sleep after Marco died. Everytime I close my eyes to try and sleep I see him and after that it’s impossible to sleep.”

At his comment you instantly feel bad for being so insistent. You should’ve kept your mouth shut instead and just let him be, he seemed that he was having a good time and you just ruined it.

Idiot.

Regardless and knowing there was no way to actually smoothly avoid this conversation, you exhale deeply and speak your mind. “I’m sorry, I knew you guys were great friends, I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Hey.” Jean quickly interjects, “it’s not your fault,” he assures you.

“Still,” you sigh, “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how it might feel. If I lost Sasha, Connie, any of our friends, or you…” you feel your face and neck burn but you continue without stopping. “...like that, I wouldn’t know what to do.” You frown sadly and feel your eyes sting with threatening tears. You want to be hopeful, but talking of such a deep and hurting subject makes it hard to feel anything nice. Even if you hardly knew Marco, talking about what happened, about how it’s a possibility to experience that pain yourself, it aches your heart. It’s a concept you’d never get used to.

“Buts that’s why we’re doing this right?” Jean reassures you softly, “fighting? To stop those monsters one step at a time.”

You blink to look at him and can’t help the soft smile that tugs on your lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Silence again invades the room as neither of you speak after. Just let your eyes linger on one another in the silence, neither knowing what to exactly do next. You notice Jean's gaze fall further down your face and moments later blinking to meet your gaze for a few seconds before they fall further down again—You don’t comment on it, just copy what he had done, blinking down to look at his lips and begin to lean in like he was doing.

But before anything could continue or develop, you both seem to pull away.

How could two people kiss after talking about such a deep topic?

It wasn’t the right time even if you so badly wanted to.

All you could do was hope you could continue some other time and actually accomplish what you both intended to do just now.

Worrying for his well-being however, wasn’t something you had to wait to do later.

“Burt really, Jean you should try to sleep for just a bit.”

Said boy groans and nods his head. “Fine, fine, I’ll try.” He continues to look around the empty room and only scoff. “But there isn’t anywhere to sleep.”

“Your bed? In your cabin?” You suggest with your brows furrowed

“No,” he complains, “I won’t sleep there.”

“Fine, then just sleep here. You can rest your head on my lap, or my shoulder if you want.”

Jean eyes lock with your own and he part his lips to speak, but pauses momentarily, showing his sudden flustered expression before he quietly decides to continue. “Okay.” He looks away from you and stays in his same position for a moment, hesitating to move—“okay.” He repeats while he remains still another second before moving to lay his head on your lap. In that moment, staying quiet and stiff. Only daring to speak to complain once he managed to regain his ability to speak. “But you’ll see I can’t sleep.”

You roll your eyes and even if your stomach was doing flips, and your heart was madly thumping in your chest from your shared moment; you instinctively and slowly move your hand to interlace your fingers between his hair, slowly beginning to comb through it and feeling his body almost instantly ease at your touch.

Jean doesn’t comment on what you were doing, or move away because he didn’t seem to like it. In fact he stays with his head on your lap, moving one hand to rest it on your knee and gently stroke it with his thumb. Continuing not to say anything even after that.

The only sound that he managed to share was his soft snoring minutes later.

It makes you smile softly and feel your heart flutter some more.

Compared to what you experienced this morning, this felt like a dream. It was definitely something you never thought you’d do, or ever want it to stop. You enjoyed this. Not only because you’ve had a crush on this boy for years, but because it’s such a good and sweet moment. Even with all this chaos.

You never wanted this moment to stop.

——

“I told him to get lost if he didn’t like how I was,” Sasha tells Connie and you smugly, “it’s not my fault he can’t handle me being stronger than he is.”

Connie scoffs, “you said that?”

“Uh,” Sasha scratches the back of her neck and laughs nervously, “yes?”

Without looking at one another, Connie and you begin to burst out laughing, continuing to just mindlessly walk forward with no real destination. Hearing Sasha ramble and try to stop you two from continuing to tease her. But she's not successful, not until Jean’s voice calls out to you. “Y/N! wait for me.”

You stop and look over your shoulder to see said boy rushing towards you with a grin that made Connie and Sasha giggle. Albeit Sasha stops when Jean pushes her to the side to squeeze between you and her.

“Hey. Excuse you.”

Jean ignores Sasha’s comment and focuses on you. “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be stationed to wait for orders.”

You scoff, “yeah we are, but Connie, Sasha and I got bored,”

“So we're pretending to do something so we don’t die of boredom and Sasha doesn’t take all our rations.” Connie finishes for you.

You nod in agreement and express an amused huff of air, turning to look at Jean to question his decision to tag along. “What about you? Aren’t you busy?”

Jean shakes his head, “no that’s why I came to you.”

“Hey,” Sasha inputs, breaking the lingering gaze Jean and you shared. “I saw you two walk out of the abandoned cabin this morning,” her eyebrows quirks and she smirks, “what were you two doing?”

You feel a heat grow on your cheeks as well as feel yourself get flustered. You shrug and relieve her curiosity with a response she didn’t expect. “We were just talking.” You fiddle with your fingers and whisper, “and sleeping.”

“Huh?” Connie probed with a shit eating grin of his own.

You shoot him a raging side eye and kindly repeat yourself. “Talking.”

Connie scoffs and covers his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh, quickening his pace and going to Sasha to pull her back with him whilst he threw a dismissing comment over his shoulder. “We’ll catch up later, we have something to...do.” Without the need to say more they basically run away from Jean and you, finally letting out the laugh that was so hard for them to keep in before. As well as finally letting Jean solely focus on you.

“I was thinking, what if we went snuck back to the cabin tonight?”

You feel your eyebrows knit together and your lips part in the sudden surprise you felt at his suggestion—and it’s not because you didn’t want to go back, but because you didn’t think he would. It just completely catches you by surprise. You’re left stammering your words. “I-I, uhm. Do you really want to?”

Jean scratches the back of his head and nods, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing. “Yeah, last night was the first time I managed to get a good amount of sleep in such a long time. All no thanks to you.”

“Hmm,” you hum while you also smile sweetly. “Well I’m glad and I’d love to go back.”

Jean again shoots you a charming grin and you swear you could melt in the spot.

——

As night came, that second time turned into a third and a forth, the fifth night you didn’t end up going back, but he found a way to sleep near you. During the day it was the same in the matter that he hardly left your side, Jean would follow you around like a little child would follow their parent, or a dog with their owner. It was weird. Yet not annoying, just weird because you weren’t really used to it, or really him at all. You never thought you’d get this kind of attention from him, it’s sweet, but still a little weird.

Connie and Sasha definitely thought it was annoying though.

“Y/N, where’s your little dog?” Sasha asks you, making you slowly turn your head to shoot her a confused stare.

“What are you talking about?”

Connie leans in and continues for Sasha. “Your boyfriend, Jean?”

“Oh,” you mouth as your eyes widen and you choke on your own saliva. “He’s,” you cough out, “he’s not my boyfriend.”

Sasha scoffs, “yeah right, he follows you around like if he was one. It’s annoying. If you guys are doing stuff just tell us, we won’t judge.”

You raise and brow and ask, “is that so?”

“Absolutely.” Sasha shrugs nonchalantly. “The only thing we do judge is him following you around like a dog. It’s annoying,” Sasha repeats. “I’m actually surprised he’s not here now.”

“Yeah,” Connie agrees, “I like Jean and all, but I’m glad he’s not glued to you at the moment.”

“Like a horse.” Sasha adds before chuckling, causing Connie to laugh along with her, at a joke that didn’t even make sense, leaving you to tune them out and also go unaware of Jean listening in and getting the wrong idea.

And going throughout the entire day without ever approaching like he would the days before. Just like that night when you went to the cabin, he failed to go and left you waiting for him; just like the next two days and nights. He didn’t speak to you, or actually ever cross your path, he avoided you at every chance he could.

His sudden avoidance without an explanation left you confused and hurt, distant in conversations with your friends that you usually liked to share your opinion on. Your two best friends noticed of course, but you didn’t want to share much beside the simple detail that; he was probably just busy, (even if you did the same job at the same place).

You want to look for him, to get some relief on your questions, but again it seems like he’s avoiding you—It’s not until the third day just as the sun was setting, did it dawn on you what could’ve caused such a sudden cut off; Jean probably heard Connie, Sasha and you talking about him.

That or he simply didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Hopefully it’s the latter though.

All you did know was that you needed to talk to him. So you kept trying to search for him, knowing you’d cross paths again, after all there wasn’t much he could do to completely avoid you. Even if so far he’s been good at hiding within the perimeters you were allowed to travel.

Making your search seem infinite.

All until night completely overtook the remainder of the day did that belief break and you finally saw him outside of the assigned cabin he temporarily stayed in—at first he didn’t notice you, not until minutes later when he felt your stare did he lift his head to make eye contact with you. Albeit he was quick to duck his head and start trying to walk off.

Not like it stopped you, you rushed over to him in time and pulled him back down to his seat across the table.

“Ah,” he complained, “careful.”

You scoff, “Jean? What the hell? Where have you been?”

He pulls his hand away and continues trying to avoid your gaze, answering in a quiet and grumpy voice that matches the scowl expressed on his face. “Here, where else would I be?”

You part your lips to answer, but no words come out, just the sound of your drawed in breath comes out. Something you proceed to quietly breathe out before blinking to look at your hand on the table, noticing his hand wasn't at his side, but still resting inches from yours.

You don’t point it out however, you just notice it and continue with what you’ve been waiting to say. “Then why have you been avoiding me? I waited for you like you told me and you never came. You haven’t talked to me since then either.”

Even if he seemed to be mad at you, he stayed to listen to you. He was good that way. He always listened.

“You should know why.” He mumbled, pulling your gaze once again to look at him and shoot him puzzled looks.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking now would I?” You retort with an added glare. “If you don’t want to talk to me, or be my friend, just tell me, Jean.”

Finally said man slides his eyes to finally meet your gaze. Expressing instant confusion at the sound of your comment and hesitating for a few seconds to reply. Just taking time to search your face with a widened, perplexed expression. Choosing not to press you to further explain yourself and instead pretending to still be upset. “Well if you don’t want to talk to me, just say so.”

You scoff, “what are you talking about?”

“I heard you,” he reveals softly, dropping his gaze once again. “Talking to Connie and Sasha. If I annoy you, just tell me and I’ll stop bothering you.”

At his words your face softens and you reach to take his hand in yours, not hesitating to assure him. “You don’t annoy me, Jean. I like having you around, I like talking to you. If it wasn’t obvious...” you pause at the feeling of your face burning and your heart thumping in your chest. You could hardly believe you were about to reveal what you’ve felt for years, and you were beginning to sway yourself not to say a word. But you needed to. It was time. “...I..like you.”

Jean's gaze instantly flies to you and you notice a blush grow on his cheeks through the light of the lamp on the table. He doesn’t speak, instead he pulls his hand away to stand up from his seat to walk off. You’re about to argue and follow after him, but he walks around the table to sit besides you. Relieving the panic you were starting to feel at his actions.

“I knew that.” He counters smugly.

You scoff and shake your head. “No you didn’t.”

“Did so.”

“Regardless,” you smile. “I don’t mind the nights we shared. I like them, they feel comforting.”

Jean lips finally tug into a wider smile before he wraps his arm around your shoulders, letting you rest your head on his shoulder so he could rest his head on top of yours.

Lastly assuring you with a comment you didn’t think you’d ever hear in a soft whisper. “I like you too.”

[foxymoxynoona]

A Beautiful Beyond

NOTE: This is a short story sequel to A Sea of Indigo, which you can read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881670/chapters/62890984

Summary: Years have passed since Jungkook came to Marigold, years since you kissed beneath the stars and confessed your love and bound yourself together. But now a new challenger has entered the ring, one which threatens to unbalance everything: your first baby! Good luck, kids.

Pitbull Hybrid Jeon Jungkook x Human Reader(Y/N) Words: 14,339

CW: not much, childbirth, domestic fluff, pregnancy, new parents, reference to prior miscarriage

Read on ao3 or below cut: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33741412

Jungkook sat in a scratchy chair in the far corner of the ballroom, next to a wide round table with his things on it. Correction, your things. Your conference bag, packed to the brim with pamphlets, samples of lotions and special shampoos and bandages and protein snacks, branded pens and water bottles and lollipops. Your messenger bag which he had carried all day, overstuffed with your own journals, loose notes, two books, phone charger, ginger candies, comfier flat shoes, socks, and enough snacks to constitute two meals, with a water bottle dangling from the strap by a carabiner. A stack of magazines and trade journals and news articles you’d collected from booths introducing health treatments, medical technologies, or new mental health services formed a stack beside the bags.  

Jungkook stretched in his chair and scratched his scalp and blinked around the room as if he’d just woken from a nap. He hadn’t, he would never fall asleep while you were wandering a crowded place like this and might need his help at any moment. But it was boring. So fucking boring. Though not the first conference he had traveled with you for, this particular time, his patience for a three days full of lectures and networking and chatty lunches was thin.

He watched you lean against a tall table, talking with two other women, both nurses who worked at other hybrid sanctuaries in Asia. So many people you knew had descended on Tokyo for this international conference. You had begged and pleaded to go after Jungkook said he didn’t think it was a good idea. You had sighed and fluttered your eyelashes and draped yourself around him and knit your fingers together and then kissed along his jaw and sucked on his ears. He flushed now, letting out an impatient huff at how impossible it was to say no to you when you did that. 

But he had his reasons! You turned and laughed at something one of the nurses said, your hand resting on top of the large round swell of your belly. He noticed the way you alternated leaning against the table and swaying, meaning either your hips or your feet were hurting. Your lower back must be too from standing all day; he saw your back arch outwards for a moment as you tried to stretch. You had cried just the other day because you couldn’t actually stretch your back the way you wanted, but if he pressed his knuckles along your spine it felt good. You needed that right now, he sensed it. He was always trying to sense the things you needed, watching you closely, trying to take care of you because he’d done this to you after all. He thought you still hadn’t been quite sure about a baby but you were doing this for him. 

And also for a nurse you were remarkably bad at taking care of yourself.

He decided without seeing them that you ankles were swollen enough and he needed to drag you out of there, so he gathered all your things and marched over, only to shy away from the pairs of eyes that all immediately shifted to him.

“Y/N, let’s go rest,” he mumbled at your shoulder.

“Just a few more minutes.”

“You said that two hours ago…”

“I know,” you said, turning and pressing your hand to his chest. “I’m sorry, I know you’re bored. Just a few more minutes, I swear.”

He sighed. But you smiled at him. And from here your ankles didn’t look too bad yet.

“Drink more water,” he said, handing you the water bottle you’d set on the table. He hauled your things back to the round table and dumped them down but didn’t sit this time. Instead he remained standing, so you could have the reminder that you had said you would go soon. 

He crossed his arms.

He paced. 

He leaned against the back of a chair when a few minutes bled into more. Two more people had joined you. And now he was getting hungry too, which he knew meant you were probably hungry too and too busy talking work stuff to realize it. Time to use his own powers of persuasion.

Once again he grabbed your bags up and approached, this time pressing up close against you back. You mindlessly lifted your fingers over your shoulder to touch his neck, a soft gesture that meant hi, I see you. He loved that gesture. He loved you, his infuriating woman who didn’t pay attention to your own limits.

“Y/N,” he whined quietly at the back of your head. The impatient huffs and whimpers were quiet, though probably not so quiet your colleagues couldn’t hear. He didn’t care right now. They’d think your whiny pup was dragging you away and though he hated that, it was the price he’d pay to get you upstairs to your room so you could put your feet up.

“Ok ok,” you said. To you colleagues, you explained, “My husband is telling me it’s time to go. I’ve dragged him around for three days now and I think we’ve hit the limit.”

“You need to rest,” he defended. My husband. The label flustered him as five pairs of eyes looked at him. He could read the surprise and curiosity on their faces. Husband? A hybrid? Nurse Y/N actually married a hybrid?

No, not actually. It wasn’t legal in Korea --or in most places, for that matter. But you had still had a ceremony last year when your grandparents had visited Marigold in the spring, donning traditional Korean clothing and standing underneath an arch on the dock Jungkook had built years ago. It was small and simple. His parents had come up for it too, to finally meet your grandparents. You had actually been calling him your husband to people for at least a year by that point, making a point of it after several unsurprising and hurtful assumptions about the nature of your relationship from outsiders. So you’d had your meaningful little ceremony, and he’d been more affected by it than he anticipated; he had not expected to be so touched when you legally changed your last name as your application for Korean citizenship was accepted, just one more way to connect you in a country that wouldn’t legally allow it.

You turned towards him, your belly pressing into his side as the others around the circle shook his hand and tried to hide any shock from their faces. Not only were you “married” to a hybrid, but of course they’d now wonder about that baby in your belly.

“Yes, it’s mine,” he said, though no one had asked. He knew they were wondering and he wanted them to know.

You immediately laughed and patted his chest, “Yes, it is, and you’re trying to make me take it easy, I know. So we’d better go. It’s been nice seeing you all; you’ve got my contact info. We fly home tomorrow but let’s keep in touch!” Your pat embarrassed him, or rather made him embarrassed by his own possessiveness of your. Human husbands probably didn’t announce that the baby in their (not legally) wife was theirs. But people didn’t doubt a human husband the way they would a hybrid not-real husband.

Your room was on a higher floor in the hotel. The silence of the elevator turned the noise of the conference into a tingly buzz still lingering in Jungkook’s ears, but by the time he closed the door of the hotel room, he could relax into the comfort of silence. Years ago, it had been the shift from a crowded arena during a fight to the quieter victor’s suite, where he’d get patched up, maybe given a girl to fuck, and then tossed into the kennels to collapse with the other exhausted survivors. Words couldn’t describe how much he preferred this routine: lining up your shoes by the door, listening to you putter around in the bathroom, then dragging you down onto the bed and pulling you feet into his lap. They were damp.

“You-- you don’t have to… do that,” you tried to protest, despite obviously just rinsing them off, either hopeful or accepting he was going to do this. Also part of the ritual. All it took was one good press of thumbs up the arch of your feet to make you moan and give up the fight. What you liked the most though was just the squeezing of your heels. He squeezed so hard he expected it to hurt but you just whined and sighed. The noises always went right to his dick. It didn’t take much from you to get him going and seeing you laid back against the pillows, belly rounded with his pup, feet twitching in his grip… well, it was enough. 

He wanted to rub your feet longer, but now his gaze kept sliding up to your belly until he couldn’t resist any longer. His hands followed, one flattening and tracing the curve.

“Baby is good,” you told him, answering his unasked question. He grinned as he stretched out beside you but a little lower, so his hand could continue to press. “Here,” you took his hand and pressed it low, where he could feel it, the irregular thump against his hand.

“Foot?” he asked.

“I sure hope so,” you snickered, “Or that baby is coming out with biceps as big as yours.” You squeezed his arm and he let you, amused at the way you so casually caressed each other's bodies. He kept his hand there, letting his son kick his palm.

“He’s strong,” he mused, only to flinch and quickly cover, “Do you think the baby will sleep now?”

“No, it slept the whole conference. I felt like I was stroking its head while we were down there,” you said, a contented smile on your face. He let out a sigh of relief that you hadn’t noticed his slip. 

Jungkook was certain you were carrying his son. It wasn’t that he preferred a son, but that was certainly going to be easier, seeing as he was a boy. He didn’t necessarily hope the baby was much like himself but he knew what it was like to be a little boy, and that had soothed some of his worries about fatherhood. Bitna was the only girl he’d grown up with and she wasn’t a very normal girl, so he’d be lost with a daughter. But he’d just sensed early on that the baby was a boy, and so hadn’t minded when you suggested not learning the baby’s sex until it was born because what did it matter?

It didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t, Jungkook had assured you when he’d first started insisting it was a boy and you had broken down in tears. He’d never forget you sobbing with disappointment in him, “Are you really one of those traditionalist men who only cares about a son?” No! No, he wasn’t! He just happened to think a son would be easier and happened to believe this baby was a son! To soothe you, he’d enthusiastically agreed not to find out the baby’s sex, agreeing it didn’t matter, secretly knowing he was going to be right.

And it didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. It didn’t, Jungkook had reminded himself when the technicians didn’t disclose the baby’s sex. It wasn’t that he’d maybe wanted to know to reassure himself he wasn’t having a daughter, (moot, since his gut said it was a boy) but because he was just desperate to know anything at all. 

He stroked the spot on your belly the baby had been kicking. There was another hard kick that made you grunt, followed by a louder grunt.

“Oof, it’s moving.”

Jungkook dragged your flowy shirt up, watching the ridge of the baby’s back he could see as it shuffled and twisted inside. You could always feel when the baby moved like that. You could feel when the baby got hiccups or was sleeping. You could feel when the baby got startled by a loud sound around you or when it grew still listening to the soothing music Jungkook played at home every day while he painted. He knew you also had the aches and pains and cramps and heartburn and swollen ankles and back aches. 

But you got to experience this, the baby was already so real to you that he’d catch you mumbling to it sometimes, or tapping your fingers against your belly when the baby’s head or butt pressed against it in silent communication, or rocking in the glider you bought on recommendation from Taehyung and Yejin --who had just had their third and, according to Yejin, absolute final. 

Jungkook was on the outside of it. He went to almost every doctor’s appointment, trading shifts at the restaurant where he still worked to clear his schedule. He painted the nursery, he built the furniture, he took the best damn care of you he could. But he still had to wait to meet the baby in a way you didn’t, and he just wanted to know something about this baby, who was going to change your lives “in ways you can’t even imagine yet,” according to his mother. All he had to go on so far was that he thought the baby was a boy.

But he kept that to himself, tracing his finger over the bulge of a head or a butt pressed just above your belly button. Your fingers wound into his hair, scratching his scalp, sending goosebumps shooting across his arms. When he glanced at your face though, your eyes were closed, your expression peaceful for a brief moment.

“You’re tired, jagi,” he murmured and kissed your belly. 

“I won’t admit it.”

“Admit it,” he teased.

“Never.”

You didn’t even complain enough to him, he didn’t think. He wouldn’t have minded. Listening to you narrate every minor ache and pain could have given him a greater window into your experience. Listening was the part he could do.

“You don’t stop for anything,” he said. “But now you have to. We came to the conference. Now we’ll go home and you promised.”

“I know, I promised. We’ll go home and I’ll take it easy.”

He heard the extra something in your voice and knew not to push further. The sadness crept in, like it sometimes still did, even though this baby was healthy and growing well. The timing of the wedding and name change had also been an emotional reset. After two years of trying before you actually got pregnant, only for the first pregnancy to end in an early miscarriage, you’d both whispered doubts to each other in the dark whether a child could actually be in your future. Now you had a healthy growing baby in your belly but still there had been minor disagreements when you thought he coddled or he thought you pushed yourself too far. Would he have packed you up in bubble wrap for the whole pregnancy if he could, like you’d accused him of? Well… maybe.

But this you had agreed on. This conference was the last thing you would leave Marigold for. Now you would go home and be gentle with yourself and let him pamper you until the time came that Jungkook could finally meet his son.

You were still scratching his scalp as he murmured, “I love you.” It still felt bold to say it sometimes, but he was determined to say it every day. This baby would take being loved for granted, it would hear about it so much. No matter what happened, this baby would always know it had a father who loved him.

“I love you too,” you returned, rolling onto your side towards him.

“Yes, and I love you too,” Jungkook conceded.

“You didn’t mean me?” you pouted, a smile in your voice.

“I love you both,” Jungkook said and kissed you before settling on the pillows, your belly cradled between you.

Damn, he was ready to go home. This conference had been really fucking boring.

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

You sat on the living room sofa in the main house, staring at the ground, sulking. They’d called Jungkook. They might as well have called your dad, for all the gravity the call was made with and for all the pleading not to and for all the dread you had about the consequences. Jungkook was going to be unhappy with you. 

Sure enough, you could recognize his steps as the front door swung open, and his serious stare met you a moment later. You tried to return his stare, but then closed your eyes and slumped backwards on the couch, clasping your hands on top of your stomach. He sat beside you on the couch.

“She completely fainted,” Jimin tattled, appearing with a second cool cloth to drape across your forehead. The one Dale had given you was already around you neck, making you shirt uncomfortably wet. Eunju had lifted your feet onto the coffee table and brought you juice and crackers. 

“Hit the ground?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide with concern but brow somehow still lowered. 

You were the one to quickly say, “No, I barely fainted and Namjoon caught me--”

“I caught her,” Namjoon agreed, striding in. He set a glass of ice water on the table as well. “She smelled a little strange--”

“Probably just a sugar crash,” you quickly clarified. “Nothing more serious. You always smell people when they sugar crash. I just went a little too long before lunch. I was just about to stop and eat--”

“You said that like an hour ago, babe,” Maya called. Everyone was circling, bustling in and out of the room. You hated the coddling. You hated the attention. You hated that they had called Jungkook for something this trivial --you were a nurse! You knew it was just a small dizzy spell! 

Jungkook just studied your face for a moment, taking in all the information from these fucking snitches, before touching your shoulder and asking, “You want to rest here? Or should I take you home?”

“Take me home,” you quickly answered. “These mother hens are driving me crazy. I’m fine!”

“Well when our nurse is still working at thirty-eight weeks pregnant and faints, we get a little antsy,” Jimin scoffed. “Complain all you want!”

“How do you even remember the weeks? Do you have my due date penciled in--”

“We all do! It’s right on the calendar in the kitchen! When that baby comes and you stay home to recover, we can all finally let out a sigh of relief,” Maya teased. She stopped behind the couch and pressed her hands to your shoulders. 

“I’m pregnant, not made of rice paper. Women run marathons pregnant.”

“Not this woman,” Dale beamed at you. “So sorry you aren’t Superwoman this time, must be hard for your ego. Now Let Jungkook take you home, get some rest. And Y/N… You don’t have to wait until you’re literally pushing a baby out of your body. Take time off as soon as you need it.”

“I don’t. I just went a little too hard, that’s all,” you grumbled. You held your hand out for Jungkook to take, not amused when he adjusted the damp towels so they would come along for the ride. He helped you to the front door, and held you steady while you stepped into your flats --the big comfortable ugly ones that were the only thing that fit your larger feet right now. Once you were on the porch, he considered asking to carry you down, you could see the thought on his face. But apparently the scowl on your face worked, and he just helped you down and into the car.

It was a quiet ride home, though fortunately not a long one. You could smell the paint from the nursery, making it obvious how he’d spent his afternoon; as soon as you were deposited on the sofa, he ran to open the nursery windows and shut the door so it could air out without letting all the heat out of the house. He disappeared into the kitchen next, returning with an assortment of snacks to display before you on the coffee table a moment later. He brought you a blanket and a pillow and then pulled you feet onto his lap to roll the compression socks down.

“Don’t,” you complained because it felt like too much right now. He was being too sweet and he hadn’t scolded you yet, but you knew it was coming. you could see it on his face, held down by his furrowed eyebrows. “Just… say it and get it over with.”

“If you aren’t going to take care for your own sake, at least do it for the baby.”

You closed your eyes and looked away. That hurt more than you had expected. You felt a painful bubble in your chest at the words.

“I’m not endangering the baby,” you mumbled, gaze shifting to your hands in your lap. “I hate that you think that. You already think I’m a bad mother.”

“Huh?” The shift in his voice was immediate. “I don’t think that. I just meant…” He trailed off; you could feel his careful study. But the painful lump in your throat lingered and you knew if you looked at him you might cry.

“I’m not being reckless. My health is good. I’m taking breaks. I’m just not ready to stop working yet and sit around twiddling my thumbs--”

“You have to slow down.”

“If I slow down any more I’ll just be a potted plant!” you argued. “I didn’t forget to eat, I just wasn’t hungry yet because the heartburn has ruined my appetite. That’s normal! There’s no space for my stomach with the baby in there and it hasn’t dropped yet so--”

“So little meals, you said. You need snacks. You need to stop and rest.”

“I eat snacks but it just happened. I was just dizzy; I probably stood up too fast but everything is fine and I need you to stop acting like I’m just being selfish.”

“You should stop working and stay home and rest.”

“These are my last weeks to get to be Nurse Y/N before I’m just Mom,” you snapped. “Don’t take that away from me. I’m fine. Please trust that I love this baby too and I am not doing anything to endanger it. I knew you’d overreact; they shouldn’t have bothered calling you--”

“Y/N.”

You both lapsed into silence, staring in opposite directions. You were trying not to cry but the exhaustion and the frustration were building. 

“The only thing I can do to help the baby right now is take care of you,” he finally said. “You have to let me do that.”

“I am. But you have to trust me when I say I’m fine.”

“Fainting isn’t fine.”

“They exaggerated because they’re worried.” His sigh revealed what he thought of that answer. “I’m fine. I’ll eat more frequent small snacks and be fine. Please, just… please.” You didn’t know specifically what you were asking for. More trust. Less scolding. More compassion. Less guilt. 

Less guilt was really the thing you needed most. You had been prepared for the physical changes --more or less, anyway. As a nurse, you had taken care of plenty of pregnant women. Sure, going through them was a step beyond but still, you could identify symptoms and normal changes and causes for concern like a textbook. That was comforting.

What you had not been prepared for was the guilt. The fears. The mental and emotional worries that plagued your dreams and your waking both. The bigger you got, the more the world revolved around the baby growing in your belly, but you couldn’t help the small voice in your head crying but what about me? Don’t I still matter? You had made plenty of adjustments and sacrifices as needed to make sure the baby was happy and healthy and growing in there --you’d eliminated certain foods and coffees, just to be safe; you went to bed on time; you napped; you didn’t go visit your grandparents because of the risk of Zika; and so on and so on. Yes, you felt sad about those sacrifices sometimes. Wasn’t that allowed? Or did that mean you were already a terrible mother? You had plenty of people ask why you were still working this late in your pregnancy but it was because you could! You were healthy! The pregnancy was going well this time! And soon you would be home with the new baby for at least six months, maybe longer, and what would that even look like for you? You had been miserable when not working before. Who would you be when you were nothing but this baby’s mother for a while, possibly a long while? Could you be happy like that? Were you already failing for being worried about such selfish things, for still thinking about a career and a life that didn’t revolve solely around your child? Was it because Jungkook had wanted to have a baby more than you had? Were you doomed to be an unloving, terrible mother from the start because he was the one who’d wanted this first, and this was just proof of that? But you did want this baby! You had agreed to this, to the heartbreak of trying again after that first loss, because you wanted this too! Couldn’t you want both?

“Y/N,” he said, hand sliding across your back. You turned into his shoulder and finally couldn’t withhold the tears any longer. They streamed onto his shirt, soaking the fabric as you sobbed. He held you, but the position was awkward with your belly taking up so much space in between. He wound up dragging you onto his lap, tangling your bodies together the way puppies did, piling on each other to comfort or be comforted.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. I know everything is harder for you right now. I can’t make anything easier. I’m just trying to take care of you. You work so hard all the time and I just want you to know that it’s ok for growing a baby to be enough.”

It wasn’t like him to stream out words like that; he must feel really bad and that soothed you too, reminding you that he didn’t know what the fuck they were doing either. 

“I don’t think I’m very good at being pregnant,” you admitted, pressing your face to his neck. 

“You are growing a healthy baby so you are very good at being pregnant. You are just not good at slowing down.”

“I don’t want to slow down,” you argued. “I listen to my body; I stop when I have to. But when I feel fine… Everything is changing and I’m trying not to complain or fuss but--”

“Complain to me, jagi! I’m your mate!”

“Yeah, but…”

He pressed his nose to your temple, rubbing, then nipped your nose and said gently, “I want to hear. I want to know. I don’t know anything. I can learn from you.”

“I don’t know anything either, Jungkook. I mean, I know about gestation and healthy baby size and pregnancy food needs. But I don’t know how to… how to become a mother, at least not a good one.”

“You’re a good mother already.”

“I’m not. I can’t be. I love this baby and I want this baby but everyone is saying I need to stop working, stop going places, stop doing things. Everything needs to be about the baby. So am I supposed to just stop existing except as a mother? I don’t know how to blend those things! And I want to work, I need to work, because I’m good at it but I’m not good at a having a baby like this and then at least if I fail as a mother, maybe I can make the baby proud as a nurse.”

This said, you leaned heavily against his shoulder again, a hollow ache where the words were no longer bricked up inside you.

After a while, Jungkook sighed, “I don’t know anything about it either. You know a lot about babies and I don’t know anything. But I think we’re going to be a happy family. I know it. We’ll do our best and love each other and I think that’s enough. All I ever wanted was to know my parents loved me.”

“I don’t know if my parents loved me,” you admitted, “I guess they did. But I don’t think they liked me very much.”

“I think we’ll like our baby.”

“I think so too,” you readily agreed. “It’s just that… everything is about to change. I’m so excited to meet this baby but I’m so fucking scared of getting this baby out,” you admitted with a small laugh. “And then… then what?”

He let out a deep breath and admitted, “I didn’t know you were scared about it too.”

“Of course I’m scared about it. You are?”

“Yeah.”

“You just act so… confident about everything. You take such good care of me and you remember everything and you’ve worked so hard on the nursery. You wanted this baby so bad, you were ready. I mean, I want it too! It’s just that the closer we get, the more I worry, am I really ready? What if I lose myself? I just become someone’s mom, nothing more… what if that’s not enough for me?”

“You will always be more than that,” he corrected. “Our baby has a busy mother. That’s ok. We said that. When you want to go back to work, if we need someone home with the baby still, I can do it. Why does it have to be the mom who stays home?” You had said that, as you’d imagined the many different ways your future could look. You didn’t know if Jungkook had been serious about that, about his willingness to stay home. You didn’t think you could bear the guilt of leaving your baby home, failing as a mother like that --you were supposed to want to stay home, weren’t you? And maybe you would want that! And maybe he wouldn’t want to! You couldn’t say because you just didn’t know what to expect!

“How can you say you’re scared when you sound so certain about everything?” you sighed enviously.

“I know we will figure it out. I can do anything with you in my corner and I’m in your corner so… we’ll be good.”

“Really? A boxing reference?”

You felt his smile as he kissed your jaw and shifted on the couch so he could drag the blanket over you both.

“Yes,” he said. “I know more about boxing than about babies but I will work harder at this than anything in my life. Together we’ll make it work. Not everything will change.”

“Are you going to say we’ll still have each other?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. His fingers were softly stroking your jaw. “I worry about things too. You’ll love the baby and forget about me…”

“I won’t,” you gasped, leaning away and staring into his face. “You’re my love, my mate, my partner. The baby won’t replace you!” He did not actually look too worried about it though.

“A little bit in the beginning. Taehyung talks to me about it. But I know you love me and you need me and it’s like that for me and we are two strong people, we can handle a baby,” he grinned. “A baby is little. We can win.” It made you smile, even laugh a little.

“Yeah, what’s one small baby against us, huh?” You leaned back against his shoulder and clung to his faith in you as a mother, his confidence you could figure this out. You wanted to be as certain, but you were still scared. What if you were wildly inept? What if the baby didn’t like you, or you struggled to love it, or you grew bitter about the career sacrifices that would have to happen to make sure the child came first as it deserved? What if you didn’t like being home with it? What if --as you had once feared-- mothering just wasn’t a thing that came naturally to you? Anytime you had hinted at that fear with Yejin or Helene or your grandmother, they’d laughed: you are full of love; you don’t have to be exactly like any other mother, but you are going to be a wonderful mother to your own wonderful baby because you have been a healing mother to so many people already. 

“You’re going to be such a wonderful father, Jungkook. You are strong and soft and wonderful in all the right ways.”

“Everything I know I learned from you,” he prodded. 

“That’s not true, but thank you.” You kissed the warm side of his neck. “Now what can you tell me to make me feel better about the pain of childbirth?”

“You are the strongest woman I know--”

“No no, that doesn’t work.”

“Drugs,” he said. “Lots of drugs. Epidural, yeah? Yeah.”

“We’ll see, I don’t know… I just don’t know anything, Jungkook.”

“You know a lot, Y/N. You just care a lot too.”

“I do care a lot.”

“I know. So it’s ok.” He rubbed his nose against yours and nipped again, kissed down your cheek and nipped your jaw. It was crazy how used to this form of comfort you had become over the years; you craved it when you were stressed or upset. You let your head fall back so he could nip along your neck. The mental image came again, of Jungkook nuzzling and cuddling your baby like this, you draped around them. It was the thought that had finally changed your mind on having a baby, too, the certainty that Jungkook was going to be a very, very good father, and that you would do your best to keep up. 

You sighed, going limp in his arms, until he finally ran his nose up to your ear.

“Sleepy jagiya,” he murmured. 

“Mm-hm.”

“I’ll carry you to bed?”

“Mm-hm, ok,” you conceded, knowing he took great pride in still lifting you with the additional weight. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. “Wait, are you almost finished with the nursery? I want to see.”

“Later. Rest first. The nursery will still be there.”

“But you’re working so hard on it--”

“You are working even harder,” he argued. “Now you need to rest.”

“Do you think that tone will work with our child?”

“I sure hope so.”

“Me too,” you laughed, and let it work with you now, especially since he let you pull him down to the bed to nap with him. Tangled in his arms and legs, you felt better. Almost like you could do this, at least if you had him by your side, and all your friends who had overreacted today because they cared. Maybe, if you tried really hard, this could all be enough for the baby.

“Everyone just wants to be loved,” you whispered to yourself.

“You overflow with love,” Jungkook whispered back. “It’s not a concern.” He sounded so serious about it, so certain. It was the last reassurance you needed to curl up on your side, pillow stuffed between your knees to cushion your joints, and fall asleep.

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

Damn. Damn he had been an idiot. Jungkook sat in the chair beside your  hospital bed, the plastic tub with your baby inside boxing him in, and stared at the wall. 

Damn, he had gotten everything so very wrong.

He was in shock. He knew that. He remembered the feeling of getting dragged from a fire and tossed into a cold pool, the way your skin tingled and your lungs burned and your eyes ached to close for a while, the way you were sweaty and cold at the same time. 

Had it all really happened? Really?

He glanced at the bassinet and couldn’t believe it was a real baby inside. He ought to be holding it but it was asleep and he didn’t want to disturb it, even though you had begged him to hold it while you slept, afraid it would feel cold and lonely. Your faith in him had been astonishing; seeing how much strength you took from him was incredible and he felt completely insufficient for it. What good had he been? No good, not good for a single fucking thing!

Sure, he’d held your arm as you paced through your contractions. He’d held your hips and pushed into your lower back as you had used the baby crib he’d built to help you sway through the worst of the pain. It had made him sick to see you in pain but he’d bitten that back and done his best to walk you through every survival method he knew.

Sure, he’d maintained his calm as he drove you to the hospital, and held your hand through checking in, and only snapped a little when the nurses were taking too long getting you into a room. He’d been calm and thorough about attending to your every need, desperate to do anything when it seemed like his options to help you were limited. This is normal, the nurse had assured you. Just a few hours and then you’ll have your baby.

But the hours dragged on. And on. And on. Your pain broke him, froze him, re-animated him. The nurses didn’t like him, he knew that, because he didn’t have any patience for their glacial pace when you needed something. He didn’t like how they could be chatting and laughing and happy while checking your’s and the baby’s vitals, not when you would curl forward, trying to escape the contractions. Pain was inescapable, and having to watch you go through it… it was too much. He had not been prepared for how terrible it would be. He’d been so focused on the baby and taking care of you throughout your pregnancy that he hadn’t worried enough about this part. He’d trusted too much the idea that women did this all the time. It had left him unprepared for the gut-wrenching agony of watching you suffer.

And then things got worse. The baby wasn’t moving. Your water had broken too long ago and you were starting to get a fever and the baby was being stubborn. Oh no, he’s going to be like me, Jungkook had fretted, long past rational thought at this point. He’d stood dumbly by as the nurses and doctor and you had discussed, as they’d tried to ask him his opinion, as he’d only nodded and motioned to whatever you said without understanding what was happening because internally he was panicking and this time you couldn’t soothe him through it.

Sure, he’d walked behind the gurney as they’d carted you down to surgery. He’d put on the gown and mask and papery hat and stood by your head, where the nurses nudged him. He’d held your hand, unable to look away from the exhaustion and fear on your face as they raised a curtain to perform the surgery out of your view. Surgery. Real surgery. He’d seen into your body as the doctors lifted a baby out of you.  You had cried as the baby screamed and he just stared, too slow and unresponsive to even cut the cord. He had expected to immediately recognize the baby’s scream, but it was just a noise, not even a very concerning one at the moment. He’d watched you nuzzle the baby under your chin, a swollen, red, angry baby that looked nothing like he’d imagined other than the dark hair like his own. He’d even touched your face to reassure you, pulled your gown back into place where it had been knocked around in the chaos; but even that had been wrong, you’d been trying to unsnap it so you could hold the baby against the warm skin of your chest. You already knew what to do with your upset child. The baby had drawn his attention less than the long line of stitches being sewn into your lower belly; you would have a big scar, a reminder of what he’d watched you endure.

Things were blurry after that. You were drugged in a way that scared him, but your attention was so focused on the baby that his fear didn’t matter right now much anyway. You were taken to a recovery room, the baby was looked at, everyone was said to be healthy and fine. Jungkook had called some people, his parents, your grandparents, Jimin. He hadn’t been able to tell them much except that everything was apparently fine, confused when they asked if he was all right and if you had named the baby yet.

The baby twitched in its cubby. He peeked down, but the baby settled back to sleep so he didn’t touch it. When he leaned back in his chair, he read the card on the side again: Baby Girl Jeon, DOB 2-24.

A girl! Even the baby had turned out different than his expectations for what “becoming parents” would go like. A girl…

He stared at the wall and wished he could fall asleep but knew it wouldn’t come. He felt like he’d been through the worst fight of his career. He felt like he’d been through a war. In reality, he felt nothing, just sat there shocked about it all and wondering how he could be so useless and how his expectations had been so fucking wrong.

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

He must have drifted off again without realizing it, because noise in the room woke him. He was embarrassed to find he’d failed even as a guard; two nurses were helping you sit up while a third finished changing the baby’s tiny diaper. This kept happening. He was trying his best to stay awake, so he could be on hand to get anything you needed --ice, water, applejuice, more blankets, more pillows, move the pillows, turn on the TV, turn off the TV. The pain from your incision definitely was worse the next day, and they took your catheter out but you needed help walking to the bathroom. You were slow and fragile-seeming and it terrified him, and so he wanted to be always on hand to help you.

But once again he’d fallen asleep in that uncomfortable chair, tricked into it by his own tired brain. 

Quickly he sat up, leaning close on the edge of the bed, but you didn’t seem upset with him about sleeping. You scratched his jaw and smiled at him, then held your arms out as the nurse lowered the baby into them. Whatever pain or lingering trauma you must have from giving birth in that manner, you seemed utterly distracted from it whenever the baby was near.

“Isn’t she perfect?” you whispered. He watched you stroke the baby’s downy black ears, still paperthin and folded up, just barely poking out of the shock of dark hair. The baby looked up at you with dark eyes beneath a heavy brow; very much like the baby pictures Jungkook’s mother had texted you to compare earlier this morning. He worried the baby might have his nose too, and how would that look on a little girl? 

“Well I think she is,” you cooed, making him realize he hadn’t answered yet.

“She’s small,” he said. No, that wasn’t good enough. “She…”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Huh?”

“I know you wanted a boy,” you said. He didn’t have to see your face to hear the threat of tears.

“No,” he said quickly. “I’m not disappointed. I’m just… surprised.” He leaned down on the bed beside you, watching the baby, trying to feel that connection he had hoped would come immediately. Even seeing his own image reflected back at him in tiny ways didn’t make him look at this infant and know anything more about it than he had when it was still tucked away in your stomach. Logically he knew the baby would grow and get more personality and someday be walking and talking like Taehyung’s kids but… He realized you were watching him stare at the baby, so he added, “I don’t know anything about little girls.”

“You don’t know what a little boy would have been like either,” you argued, the same argument you’d had while pregnant. “A girl could still like cars and fighting and--”

“I don’t want anyone to like fighting.”

“--And a boy might have liked dolls and tea parties.”

“I know that,” he insisted. “It’s not important, Y/N. I’m not disappointed.”

“You can’t be disappointed. She’s perfect.” You hooked your finger into a tiny fist. The baby smacked its lips and wriggled in its blanket, curling closer to your chest and nodding off. Apparently eating and a diaper change had been too much excitement and worn it out. 

“I’m not disappointed,” he insisted again. “Are you?”

“No. What? Why would I be disappointed?”

“Ears. Tail.”

“Yes, my daughter is a hybrid, so? So is my mate”

Jungkook nodded but secretly didn’t believe you. You were drugged and tired and not thinking about it because you couldn’t actually be that oblivious. With a human mother, the baby would qualify for human citizenship, but with hybrid features, it would face the same barriers Jungkook did. Even though you had spent your life working with hybrids, you could still move fluidly between the worlds. You didn’t understand. He had hoped his child would be spared this; some mixed children didn’t even have the ears of their hybrid parent, apparently the most dominant of hybrid features. He had hoped his child would just be a boy copy of you. That would have been the best, easiest future. This child… he just didn’t know how he was possibly supposed to protect it. He’d barely managed to protect you for the last nine months.

“I know I don’t know what it’s like to be a hybrid,” you said, once again making Jungkook suspect you had secret mind-reading abilities. “And I wouldn’t wish any struggles on my own child. But I’ve spent my life trying to make this world a better place for hybrids, and now I’ll keep fighting that fight to make it a better place for our daughter. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy and healthy. She’s beautiful and I wouldn’t change a thing about her, certainly not to make her look less like my handsome mate.”

He pressed his face to your arm, only to be stunned when you added, “Please don’t scent me though until you’re willing to scent her too.”

“What?”

“You haven’t yet.”

“She’s so small,” he defended.

“Ok. But usually hybrids scent their babies right away--”

“You aren’t a hybrid, don’t lecture me.”

You went silent. He cringed. You nodded and he could feel the weight of your swallow, the way you bit back tears.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to your arm. But you had said not to scent you, so he didn’t. He should scent the baby instead but he’d said the truth. It was so small. A boy baby would have been bigger, right? Sturdier? The boy baby he’d seen in his head was bigger.

He wasn’t soothed by your answer, “I know.” It felt like there was a but in there. But… you aren’t being the partner I need. But… you aren’t being a good father. But… you don’t belong here in this human hospital. But… it’s your fault I had to go through all this pain. But… it’s your fault our baby has dog ears and a dog tail and will never look just like every other little girl. 

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. It was lame, a lame attempt to still be useful to you.

“My stitches are hurting pretty bad,” you admitted. “Can you ask the nurse when I can have more pain medicine?” 

That he could do. He rose swiftly and headed for the door, but paused and looked back. He watched you stroke the little head one more time and kiss it, then gently tug a yellow hat down over the tiny head. He heard your sniffle from the door. You thought he hated the baby. He didn’t hate it! He just didn’t know it!

Fuck. He was failing. He’d been a father for less than forty-eight hours and already he was failing.

In his panic, he forgot about the medication. He blanked on it completely, he got distracted by his own frustrations, and he left the hospital to go for a jog to clear his mind. He’d come back a new man, he would! He psyched himself up about all the things he’d do better when he got back from his jog. He’d change diapers! He’d have the nurse show him again how to swaddle! He’d start writing down your medication times so he could keep it up when you went home and there wasn’t another nurse there doing it for you-- fuck, your medication!

He turned and jogged back to the hospital, determined for a better round two.

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

The hospital had not let you stay long. Three days didn’t feel like long enough, and Jungkook had tried to argue with the doctor about it, but you already knew the lines the doctor responded with. You were healthy and your sutures were healing nicely. The baby was healthy and even eating nicely. You were a nurse, living in a sanctuary with other medical staff nearby. Jungkook was even suddenly being more helpful! He hadn’t scented you daughter yet, but he was changing diapers now, doing his best to swaddle the baby in a blanket, and even watched over her closely when you slept. You would wake that final day and night to see him staring down at the baby, or even reaching out a finger to touch her little cheek, and while it wasn’t scenting, it looked more like acceptance.

So there was no reason to stay longer in the hospital other than your own fear over the reality that you and Jungkook were actually parents now, parents with a baby to take care of, with the added complication that you were recovering from more of a surgery than you had expected. Of course you had known there was a risk of Cesarean. You had wanted to avoid it, to avoid the additional healing process. But by the time the doctor decided it was time, you’d had no fight left in you and had known it was the right call, for your baby’s safety and your own. 

But it didn’t mean you were ready to look at the steri-strips and long scar any more than you had to right now. Your saggy tummy, your painfully swollen breasts and aching nipples and the constant sense you were peeing yourself, none of mattered right now because your body had worked hard and deserved some love and patience. The birth already felt like a dream, except for that damn incision. Besides, you had a beautiful baby who needed you right now.

All of you. Mi-Cha never didn’t need you. If Mi-cha wasn’t on you in some way, she was screaming. Awake? Needs to be held against your heart or tucked under your chin. Asleep? Needs to be held against your heart or tucked under your chin. She might allow you to lay down in bed with her and sleep with Mi-Cha curled up in your armpit, but you were terrified of rolling over and crushing her, which meant Jungkook had to sit there and supervise. 

Poor Jungkook. Poor yourself too, sure, you were exhausted beyond all exhaustion, but at least there was something sweet about the baby clinging so desperately to you. Jungkook tried to be present and helpful and give you a break and it only ever led to screaming, and those little newborn shrieks inevitably led to you bursting into your own frantic tears. Every time he offered to take the baby so you could try to sleep, you could see him bracing himself for the unfailing shrieks. You certainly couldn’t fall asleep like that, but you could shower or quickly eat something or at least change your clothes. Maybe your hygiene wasn’t the best but hey, newborn babies loved the scent of their mama, right?

It was no way to live though. It couldn’t last. After only three days of this, you were nearing a breakdown and you knew it and couldn’t see an end in sight. Jungkook’s parents wouldn’t be here until the end of the following week and they wouldn’t be wizards with a baby. Maya and Ana had both come by, called by you to check the baby and make sure you weren’t missing something wrong because you felt incompetent over how much your daughter cried. It wasn’t like Mi-Cha always just stopped immediately crying as soon as you held her, once she got going about your betrayal for setting her down, or because you failed to anticipate whatever she wanted but couldn’t communicate yet. She was fussy and demanding and beautiful but you felt like your little family was already failing. 

So on day three, it was back to the pediatrician for a second visit for another verification that nothing was wrong. Nope. Mi-Cha was gaining weight at a good clip. She responded properly to stimuli and didn’t react to any presses on her tummy or head or tail. Gas was suggested and you were given drops to coax into her and told to keep trying, sometimes babies just took time to settle into a routine. 

But at home it continued. Jungkook offered to help less, knowing it didn’t do any good, and probably because he was exhausted having his own child scream at him and reject him. It was particularly problematic since you were more convinced by the day that Jungkook hated the baby anyway. It wasn’t a boy. It looked like him. It had puppy ears and a tail and just wasn’t what he meant when he said he wanted a baby. Frankly, his rejection hurt you too, after you worked so long and hard to make this baby. It drove a wedge between you. It had only been four days but it felt like a week had passed and you couldn’t help but feel like your lives had been ruined.

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

“Mi-Cha,” you sang, badly because you were exhausted and had no energy or mental stamina to carry a tune. “Mi-cha, Mi-cha, sweetest lovely Mi-Cha, take a little nap so your mommy can do it too.” You cradled the baby in the crook of your elbow as you tried to unwrap a granola bar because heaven forbid you put Mi-Cha down for a moment. Your hands were shaking at your daughter’s angry shouts regardless, but you thought if you could just eat something you would get a second wind. Or, well, a fiftieth wind. A hundredth wind?

Jungkook watched you from the doorway, reading all of these things, but not sure how to help. His feelings of helplessness had only grown since coming home, watching you get dragged further under the demands of a newborn. You were both exhausted, but he knew you were carrying more of the weight right now and he didn’t know what to do. Belatedly, he realized he could at least open the fucking granola bar for you and dove forward. But Mi-Cha was already angry she’d been held wrong for too long, so by the time he handed the granola bar over, you were crying quietly beneath Mi-Cha’s wail. He held the granola bar up, trying to give you an encouraging smile and knowing he failed.

At that moment, your phone buzzed itself off the kitchen counter and landed perfectly on his foot. He cursed and grabbed it. His mother. Well, he could at least take care of that. He showed you the caller ID and wasn’t surprised by the way your expression sank. But he quickly grabbed the phone away and left the room, answering, making clear to you he would deal with it. His mother had been calling daily, trying to be helpful but adding stress already, even though she and Appa weren’t coming to visit until the end of next week.

“Eomeoni, hello,” he greeted, making sure she could hear the baby in the background before he closed himself into the bedroom. 

“Mi-Cha has strong lungs,” she mused.

“She has strong everything,” he sighed. “Strong lungs, strong demands, strong complaints.”

He could hear the amusement in her voice as she said, “Yes, yes, a new baby is difficult. You were hard for us, too, so hard. It takes me back. You sounded just like that. Do all babies sound like it? I don’t think so, I think I know she’s mine by her cry.” He slumped on the edge of the bed, closing his eyes. It was sweet that his parents were so excited about Mi-Cha. While he felt like there would always be a pebble in the shoe of their relationship, their instant love and adoration for the granddaughter they hadn’t even met yet had felt like a new layer of healing over old wounds. But right now, his mother’s sympathy didn’t solve the problem and he was so tired he could barely follow her.

“... so every day after lunch your father would come home from work early and take you so I could sleep for a few hours, and then he’d do it again at midnight. It was odd hours but you just wouldn’t accept anything else; even as a new baby, you had an idea of how the house was going to go!” It was interesting to hear that, seeing as his own memories of childhood didn’t recall his parents being pushovers to his whims. 

But something else caught him, and he asked, “Did Appa have any special tricks? Mi-Cha won’t let go of Y/N. She wants nothing to do with me. I know a mother is the most important but--”

“Appa!” she called, her voice loud through the phone as she forgot to pull away. Jungkook flinched. “Appa! Talk to your son, he wants to know a father thing. I don’t know what you did to Gukka so he’d be quiet with you when he was a-- yes, talk to him.”

The phone changed hands and Jungkook rubbed his forehead as Appa greeted him, asked about the baby, asked about you, and only then said, “Yes, ok, what is the question?”

“Eomeoni says when I was baby, you would take me so she could sleep. Y/N needs to sleep but Mi-Cha just screams all the time. How did you do it?”

“Oh, well, I… I didn’t do anything remarkable,” he said, sounding confused by it. “You were a good baby. We’d just do our thing, father and son.” Jungkook physically cringed, it hurt his stomach; he realized he hadn’t eaten in a while either. He needed to make something better for you both to eat than granola bars and cold noodles. 

“I don’t have a son,” he said, sharper than he would have meant on a normal day.

“Yeah, we didn’t use our dongles!” Appa laughed, loud and easy and relaxed. “What’s different? You can tell me. I kept you and your eomma scented well enough. I’d bundle you up in a little sash against my chest, and off we’d go!”

“Go where?” Jungkook asked, brow lowering. 

“Oh, we just walked. We walked and walked, it was nice,” Appa said. “We watched the leaves change and we’d walk to get fresh bread or rice cakes from the shops. You’d cook with me or sometimes we’d watch TV together if it rained…”

That was the thing. That was the thing Jungkook hadn’t tried yet. He’d been waiting until things felt better, until he felt a connection with Mi-Cha, until he felt like she wanted him to be near her, but now Appa had him wondering if he’d gotten the most obvious thing wrong. 

“I have to go, Appa,” he abruptly said. “Thank you. Tell Eomma thank you.” He hung up before anything else could delay and hoped his parents would understand.

He hurried to the nursery, where he could hear you mumbling to Mi-Cha through the closed door. You looked over from the window where you swayed with Mi-Cha under your chin when he flung the door open, and it struck him again how tired his poor love looked. 

“Go sleep, jagiya,” he said, striding forward. You gave him a crooked smile, certain he was joking. But he was determined to give it a solid effort and pressed his face to your neck.

“Gukka--”

“Shh, jagiya, I’ll scent her in a moment. Let her smell me on you first,” he murmured, nipping his way along your neck, rubbing his nose and chin. Even just that eased the tension in his shoulders he’d started to grow used to again; touching you so closely soothed him, like he too was a needy little baby unwillingly separated from warm, soft, wonderful you. Maybe you felt the same; you sighed and lifted your chin, the saddest little whimper coming from you he’d ever heard. He wrapped his arms around you, embracing Mi-Cha in between, something that usually made her cry but right now she stayed silent.

Because he could, he kissed your chin and your nose and your mouth, a real kiss, the first real one since Mi-Cha had been born. 

“We’ll try this,” he murmured. “Maybe it will work.”

“What will work?”

“I’ll take better care of my girls,” he said. Vague, but you didn’t protest as he dragged his mouth down the other side of your neck, and along your shoulders, and then lower, to the soft little head cradled against your chest. 

“You too, Mi-Cha,” he said gently, brushing his nose as carefully as could be against the back of her head. She smelled like fresh laundry and newness and warmth and some extra thing that was uniquely her, though tied to himself and you. He could recognize this baby anywhere already, he knew that; he could pick her clothing out of a pile, no problem; he could find her no matter how far she wandered once she was mobile.

But now he added his scent directly to her, strong, so there’d be no question about the slight thread of relation. He pressed it to the back of her head and her little shoulder and her arm and leg and her back. You twisted her the other way and he worked his way back up, even peppered little kisses against her face and hair because she wasn’t crying about him being so close. He felt affection blossom in his chest. She wasn’t asleep, but she just lay there quietly under this, as if it was something she wasn’t sure of but understood had to happen. Her wispy hair stuck out funny around her little ears, which had already gained some shape but now looked more like little cat ears. They’d grow fast, he knew, and soon flop like his had in his baby pictures. And probably someday, maybe after puberty, they’d grow a little more, get some more shape to them, and no one would ever cut or tear them. No one would ever touch her little tail, which suddenly brushed against his hand.

“Was that a wag?!” you gasped, noticing it too. “It can’t be! That milestone isn’t until like a month.”

“I don’t know if it was that,” he admitted, but grinned because he’d instantly thought so too, just a little tap like that. “Still, it means she’s strong… Let me try…” Your eyes went wide. You both held your breaths as Jungkook lifted Mi-Cha out of your hold and instead tucked her under his own chin. 

“Shhhh. Hello, Mi-Cha,” he said quietly. He froze, worried the rumble of his voice in his chest would set her off, but she didn’t make a peep.

“She’s still awake,” you said. “But…”

“But she’s not crying.”

“It worked!” you squealed. You pressed your hand to Mi-Cha’s back, adding your own soothing, “There you go, sweet girl. Appa has you now. See? You’re safe and happy with Appa.”

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Go.”

“What?”

“Go sleep! I’ve got her.”

“Oh my god.” You stared at him, like this hadn’t even occurred to you. “Oh my god!” You pressed your hand to your mouth, then kissed them each on the cheek, then fled the room, shuffling as quickly as you could so recently after giving birth. It was almost enough to make him laugh; he could hear the weight with which you hit the bed in their bedroom, like you’d jumped onto it so nothing could pull you back. He hoped you hadn’t actually done that; your incision was still healing!

Mi-Cha stayed quiet beneath his chin. He could feel the tiniest flutter of her breath against his collarbone. But she was only wearing a diaper, freshly changed; you hadn’t dressed her yet and he worried Mi-Cha would be cold in these final days of February, even though the house was warm.

“Ok, princess pup,” he murmured, “You need clothes. Let’s see… let’s see…” He heard the tiniest chirp and bounced over to the small mirror so he could see her reflection. Her eyes were open, looking curiously around, like she was surprised by her own acceptance of this new situation. 

“Damn, you’re cute when you aren’t screaming,” he grinned because damn, he looked pretty cool holding a baby like this. 

It was tricky picking out new clothes for her without risking his grip on her. He wound up sliding her down to nestle in the crook of his arm, and while she refused to let you hold her like this, she deemed it acceptable with Jungkook. The drawers in the closet were full of baby things in all soft hues, though a few fun outfits in darker colors, mostly his friends poking fun of his own fashion style. He picked a cozy green knit sleeper and talked to her as he dressed her, since he had to put her down. She fussed about it, so he moved quickly, tucking in her little feet and little hands, careful that her tail curled comfortably up the back. Eomma had already said she was looking forward to doing all the clothing alterations when she arrived, so Mi-Cha could proudly show off her little tail. 

“You look like a little green bean,” he admitted, lifting her quickly so he could shuffle a swaddle sack into place and tuck her into it. He started to pull a hat on but she fussed enough he left it off. But he still worried her head would get cold, so he found a bigger hat, one that dwarfed her little head when he pulled it down, but she accepted that. “So cozy, so cute,” he narrated, snuggling her back down into his arms. “We won’t go far today for our first adventure. Just to the kitchen to get some food and then back here. We can sit in the comfy chair and watch the flowers grow,” he suggested. “Eomma isn’t far, she’s just sleeping…”

Even after he had eaten carefully around her and returned to ease into the nursery chair, Mi-Cha still hadn’t cried. He worried she’d be getting hungry, but instead her eyelids started to droop as he settled down with her, draping a blanket over them both. She curled up against his chest, little mouth opening and closing a few times in the tiniest yawn. His heart briefly stopped when her little covered hand pressed against his chest and she closed her eyes and dozed right off.

“I see,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Mi-Cha. You surprised me in every way. But I made you wait while I sorted my shit out and that’s not right. I’m your appa, it’s my job to make sure you are loved and safe even when you surprise me.” He hunched over to kiss her little nose and stroked her cheek. She looked asleep, her breathing a bit heavier, but he still assured her, “You are loved and safe and I don’t know anything about you yet other than that you’re mine, and that’s enough for now.” He hesitated, then grinned, “And I think you are maybe stubborn too.”

Jungkook had nowhere else to be and nothing else to do that was more important than rocking his daughter, holding her close while she slept, and letting his mate finally get some sleep before you murdered someone.

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

You woke slowly from you nap and stretched, mindful of the C-section scar out of habit though several months after surgery you were feeling pretty good. Your shirt had hiked up while you slept and you glanced down at the smile on your lower belly --that was how Jungkook had described it between kisses along the curve of it a week or so ago and the comparison had lingered. Not that you’d had any doubt, but a new scar was nothing unattractive to Jungkook, once he’d had a few good visits with his therapist to work through the trauma of childbirth. You had not realized ahead of time how upsetting that would be for him, but it explained too the first rough few days in which he’d kept his distance from the small baby whose birth had caused your pain, blinding him briefly to the much greater joy Mi-Cha brought.

You felt bad not to have anticipated that. But how could you have predicted the pain, the fear, the exhilaration, the euphoric joy of holding your fresh little newborn against your chest? Even thinking about it now, as you often did, made your fingers itch to grab those little thighs, brush back the little fluff of hair, or stroke along your daughter’s tail like you’d formed a habit of. Tail! You had known of course that your daughter could have some level of hybrid chimera. You hadn’t expected it to be strange to you after how much time you’d spent with hybrids and that was the only thing you’d predicted correctly: it didn’t seem unusual to you at all. Every centimeter of that baby was beloved and precious and perfect. You spent hours going over every bit of your baby, relishing in every dimple, every downy patch of hair, every little blink and hiccup and murmur. 

Fears that you would have a baby and not know what to do with it? Absolutely the truth, you still couldn’t believe you had a baby, and it still felt like you were living hour to hour trying to keep Mi-Cha fed, bathed, and entertained.

Fear that you would have a baby and not love it? Absolutely unfounded. Even once the baby was an impossible being in your arms, no longer a series of flickers and thuds within your belly, you’d loved her. Even when that tiny baby had pushed you to the brink of collapse, when you and Jungkook had cried together in shared frustration, even when Mi-Cha had ruined not one but two of your shirts with diaper explosions, even then your love had been unshakeable. Maybe not your nerves or patience, but your love.

Now the quiet house was disorienting, even though you knew it was nothing to be worried about. Jungkook took her out for a walk just about every day at this time, so you could have a rest before Jungkook would head out to the restaurant for his evening shift if he had one. You didn’t know how long he’d be gone or when he’d return so you sent him a quick text letting him know you were awake. 

[JK<3]: on my way how’s mi-cha doing? I miss her [Y/N]: very funny

You cut up an apple and wandered outside so you could watch Jungkook arrive. Sometimes they biked and sometimes they drove in a cart if you were going along but today he’d walked. With your apple slices cupped in your hand, you stood on the wooden front porch and watched him come down the road, a flowery sunbrella shielding himself and the baby from the spring sunshine. He was flushed and sweaty from the walk by the time he stepped up and Mi-Cha’s head turned side to side from where Jungkook had her wedged in the front carrier; she could obviously sense you.

“My sweet baby,” you cooed, leaning down into view and stroking her hair where the headband with the big black bow didn’t cover it. The bow matched the little romper she had on, black and red polka dots with an all-black diaper cover. She looked like a little ladybug and it was definitely not what you had put her in but Jungkook, you had learned, found a lot of enjoyment in carefully choosing Mi-Cha’s outfits for their walks. He liked her in matchy-sets, whereas you really just put on whatever was clean and within reach --because it usually didn’t stay clean for long. She’d developed pretty bad acid reflux, which meant she spit up a lot and preferred to be upright and held, none of which her daddy minded at all. He’d proclaim “Time for a wardrobe change” every time he hauled her off to clean her up.

“Where were you too off to today?” you asked as Jungkook brushed past you to toss the diaper bag down just inside the door. You always smiled to see it, because Seokjin had tried to buy him a sleek black leather “dad-bag” that even you had expected him to love, and Jungkook had gone off about how dads didn’t need separate bags and who cared if this one had yellow and green pastel polka dots, and if anyone had a problem with it they could fucking fight him. 

“Mr. Moon,” he answered. You helped him untie and unbutton and untwist to pull Mi-Cha out of the carrier and took a moment to cradle Mi-Cha to your chest and kiss and nuzzle her face. Even though no scent really got applied, Mi-Cha loved it, and Jungkook had assured you there was a little of your smell that transferred. Mi-Cha gurgled and kneaded her fingers against your shirt, her little tail thump-thumping against your arm. 

“How’s he doing?” you finally answered. Jungkook gave you a look that said enough. His health had continued to deteriorate; Alya had earned her nursing license just in time to become his full-time caretaker. You knew the end was going to be incredibly difficult for Jungkook, who’d taken to Mr. Moon like a long-lost grandson so long ago. You were glad he still spent his afternoons there with Mi-Cha so often. 

The sudden kiss surprised you from the sad thought, and you leaned into it, smiling as his fingers brushed your arm.

“Hm,” you hummed. “Hello.” His bashful smile melted your heart as he made to turn away, but you leaned forward for one more kiss. You had been working on this lately, making a point of physical affection with each other. Mi-Cha had dominated both of your attentions for almost three months now and that wasn’t going to stop any time soon, but you both had admitted that you missed each other. So you had agreed to kiss more, touch more, without reason or explanation.  “I love you,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his jaw.

“I love you too,” came the reply, still music to your ears. Mi-Cha chirped and squeaked, and immediately both parents looked down at her. 

“It was a good walk,” Jungkook said, brushing Mi-Cha’s ear with his finger. “She smiles a lot at other people. I think she’ll be bright like you.”

“Bright,” you repeated. “Such a cute way to say that. But you’re forgetting how moody she gets when she doesn’t get what she wants, or if there’s too much noise, or--”

“Her ears are sensitive.”

“Ya, I know about her ears,” you teased. “Come on, you should drink some water. She’s probably about ready to eat too, unless she had a bottle.”

“She had a bottle,” he confirmed. 

“Ah, what a good girl you were for daddy today,” you cooed, swaying and bouncing her as you walked inside. “Are you going to be so good for mommy tonight?”

“I’m not working tonight.”

“Oh. I forgot--”

“That’s ok. I wrote it down.”

“I’m sure you did. The days sort of run together right now…”

He gave you a sympathetic touch on the shoulder, knowing how doubly exhausting that was, and assured you, “It’s ok. We’ll have a nice night in… unless you want to go out?” You had gone to dinner at Hoseok’s and his fiance’s place the night before though, and eaten an early dinner at the main house the night before that. It turned out, maternity leave was only as lonely and isolating as you let it be here. You had feared your social support would evaporate once Jungkook’s parents went home after two weeks but you only had to lift your phone or step out your door to find a Sanctuary’s worth of family eager to help.

Mi-Cha’s little mouth pressed against your collarbone, little tongue lapping at your skin. For most babies, that meant hunger, a rooting response meant as a gentle, early threat. But Mi-Cha liked to make things a little complicated by having a second behavior that was similar but not identical to rooting. Her little mouth latching onto something that was very clearly not a nipple for this adorable and maybe odd child meant she was sleepy. 

“Ah, she’s worn out,” Jungkook sighed, stepping close and touching her back as well as yours. “She was very busy at Mr. Moon’s…”

“Doing what? Is she finally painting?”

He snickered and corrected, “Looking, listening, fussing, holding onto pencils and paintbrushes we put in her hand.”

“Trying to make her a little protegee?” 

He looked serious as he answered, “No, no. We’ll see if she likes painting. She doesn’t have to like painting.” Mi-Cha sucked a little harder, then pulled off and let out a warning fuss.

“All right, sweet one,” you apologized. “Let’s check your diaper and then to sleep.”

“I just changed her, I think she’s fine,” Jungkook insisted, leaning down to sniff her diaper. It was more a gesture than anything though; he could always tell the second she was wet or poopy, even from across the house. At first you had envied him this immediate recognition, but there had been enough really bad diapers that had left Jungkook looking pretty green that now you thought your human sense of smell was maybe not such a bad thing. 

Together you went to the nursery. Despite Jungkook just spending the whole afternoon with Mi-Cha, you could sense his eagerness to still hold her. You felt the same way, desperate to keep that soft, warm little body close after your arms had been empty for that same time; you’d felt the emptiness even in sleep. Even now when you napped, you would sometimes startle awake, reaching for a baby you had dreamed was falling, only to realize no baby was there, and you wouldn’t have left Mi-Cha in a dangerous place to begin with.

So you motioned Jungkook to the glider, then curled up on his lap with Mi-Cha tucked in with you. The deep sigh from Jungkook left no secret how happy he was to have both his girls close. Both his girls. You melted every time you heard him say that. How silly of him to have doubted he could figure out a baby girl, as he’d admitted to you. Those fears hadn’t completely left him, but you knew and he tried to believe you that he’d figure out any other “daughter demands” just like he had changing a daughter’s diaper. He even had a little song he sang to Mi-Cha when he did it! Front to back, just like that; wipe wipe wipe, hush don’t gripe; clean the way, tummy to tail, and then put-a-new-diaper-on-quick-before-you-pee-on-me-again. 

Jungkook was right about one thing regarding Mi-Cha: her emotions were bright and loud and she didn’t hide them. She felt safe and comfortable and loved, you were certain that was why she was so forthright with her happiness, her impatience, and her tiny baby rage that sometimes poked out. Mostly though she was happy, and it showed in the steady little flick of that tail and the curve of her mouth into a sleepy smile as she chomped down on the pacifier Jungkook had finally been convinced would not doom her teeth for life before they’d even grown in. 

“She’s so perfect,” you sighed, an infinite refrain. “I think she’s even prettier now that we get to sleep sometimes.” Jungkook rocked you slowly and brushed his finger against Mi-Cha’s thigh, making her twitch and kick and curl closer to your chest, as if seeking protection. “Let her sleep,” you jokingly scolded.

“Ah, it’s boring when she sleeps, I think…”

“I know,” you admitted. “At least you got to see her all afternoon, I was just asleep and now she’s going to sleep.” Your low voices didn’t seem to bother your daughter at all; she was used to this, after all, being cradled by both her parents as she dozed off. Jungkook’s mother thought they were crazy to let the bedtime routine be so long and drawn out and maybe you’d regret it eventually, but right now, just holding her as she fell asleep was so perfect.

“You were up with her at four-thirty in the morning,” Jungkook pointed out. “After she was already up at one.”

“Yeah… someday when she’s all grown up, we should wake her up as much as she wakes us up.”

“She won’t think we’re as cute as we think she is,” Jungkook pointed out.

“That’s sort of the point of revenge.”

He chuckled and turned the glider slowly so you could see out the window, angled so Mi-Cha’s face stayed in the shadows. Sitting in this glider, watching the flowers erupt from their winter slumber during the early weeks home with Mi-Cha had been magical and surreal. You would never think of early spring the same way again. It would now always remind you of those early days of parenthood with Jungkook by your side. 

“I hope the flowers are still beautiful for her 100 Day celebration,” you mused. Jungkook’s parents would be back again next week and your grandparents were flying in to meet her for the very first time --later than they had hoped, after you grandfather had been too sick to travel after contracting some disease at the site of their latest sanctuary project. He’d pulled through fine but it had scared you; the party would be emotional for many reasons.

“Shhhh.”

“Huh?”

“You are stressed about it,” Jungkook observed. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. No one will notice the flowers because they will just notice Mi-Cha. And no one will care if the party isn’t perfect because it will be just because we’re together.”

“When did you get so wise?” you teased.

“I’m a father now, I’m supposed to be wise.” At your glare, he grinned, “I know you. I know you want to do things to show you care but she knows. I know. Everyone knows.”

“That’s rich coming from the man who gets her dressed for the runway just for a walk down the street,” you teased.

“She likes it,” he defended, carefully reaching around to gently pull the bow off their sleeping baby’s head so she could rest more comfortably. “I don’t like this one as much, I think it’s scratchy, but I think that’s why she likes it.”

“Do you think her ears are still dry?” you frowned, leaning in to look.

“I put the lotion on.”

“I know you did… maybe we should try an oil instead… they look good though. Maybe she just likes the bow,” you conceded. It amused you, thinking about Jungkook trying on different bows and hats and headbands for your infant daughter who couldn’t even sit up on her own. And then nodding as if she’d made her preference known. And then building an outfit around her choice. “You’re so cute, Jungkook.”

“I’m… whatever. I’m just-- it’s just whatever. I don’t mind bows, if that’s what she likes. Or whatever else she likes.”

“You’re not worried she’s going to be into fighting anymore?”

Jungkook tossed the bow over to the basket and answered, “Someday when the time is right, I’ll teach her just enough to make sure she never has to actually fight. Just enough to make someone stop if they’re bothering her. Just in case she’s like you and attracts trouble.”

“I don’t!” you defended. He grinned and kissed you breathless. “Unless you mean that you’re trouble. I sure attracted you.”

“It’s not a very good joke…”

“You’re a turd.”

“Don’t let our daughter hear that,” he playfully growled. “She has sensitive ears.”

You laughed and pressed your nose to his, your arms full of your daughter who’d melted into a warm little pile of mush when she’d fallen asleep, your heart full of love for both of these people.

“Is it as good as you dreamed after all?” you asked.

Jungkook’s furrowed brow could be felt against yours as he insisted, “You’re the dreamer, not me. I never can dream as good as things with you will be. I can’t dream good enough. Everything in our lives is… beyond.”

“Yeah,” you agreed before stealing one more kiss. “Everything in our lives is beyond.”

[hello-everyfandom]

Dating Remus Lupin Would Consist of...

Dating Remus Lupin Would Consist of...

Remus is an observant fellow. He happened to see you in the garden of Hogwarts, sitting with your friends. 

He was so unbelievably tired that day, the first day back from “visiting his mother,” that he nearly blinked and lost you. But then he heard your laugh.

Your laugh soon became the sound he cherished most in the world. You did not giggle childishly like the other girls, but instead you squeezed your eyes shut and chimed in laughter.

He couldn’t help but note how wonderful you looked. You wore comfortable clothing, trousers and a sweater to battle the Autumn wind, but you were captivating.

From then on, Remus Lupin had a huge crush.

He had heard your name from one of your friends who absentmindedly mentioned you during Transfigurations.

He would never admit this, but Remus would whisper your name to himself in the bathroom, enjoying how it rolled off his tongue. 

Remus Lupin was good at keeping secrets. He had fooled the entirety of Hogwarts into thinking he was merely visiting his sick parent, but there were three boys he absolutely could not fool.

At first, he tried to hide it, but one morning Peter caught him staring a little too long in your direction.

“What you lookin’ at that’s got you all slack-jawed.” Peter leaned to poke Remus on the skin of his cheek.

Remus would stammer back and quickly look down at his fingers which tightly held a mug of coffee.

Sirius pushed his head so it was directly next to Remus’, cheek to cheek. 

“I don’t see what you are so preciously gazing at,” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows, “Guide me so I may see what has caught our Moony’s attention.”

Remus could help himself and he would practically want to die when James poked his head up.

James Potter was a tall fellow, nearly taller than Sirius and much taller than Remus, so when he stuck out like a sore thumb when he searched the Great Hall.

“Oh-” James whistled before sitting down smugly. He leaned back, putting the back of his head into his hands. “Moons, I see,”

“What!” Sirius whined, desperate to see. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Remus cursed, burrowing his head into his arms.

“Oi, come on, that’s not nice,” Sirius rolled his eyes. James reached his long arm, stretching and grabbing Sirius’ chin to guide his eyes into place. “Well, in Merlin’s sagging balls, Moony’s got a crush!” Sirius yelled after his embarrassing staring.

“Nice one, that is,” Peter agreed, “Talked to her once in Muggle Studies.” “And, her tits look amazing.” James popped up making Remus furiously glare at him. 

If looks could kill, James would likely be dead.

“Prong, come on, mate,” Sirius shook his head, his voice disappointed, “We don’t talk about the ladies here like that, you know that.”

James slumped down, pouting and sheepish, “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to Remus,” Sirius instructed, pointing at Remus whose cheeks and ears had gone bright red.

“Sorry Moons.” Remus narrowed his eyes at him, deciding he’d forgive him after Charms when he’d really start to feel bad.

“Don’t be mad, Rem,” Sirius sighed, “You know James, he’s an only child, you know only children always end up odd in the head.”

“You know what Padfoot,” Remus rolled his eyes, “That would’ve been sweet if you had not forgotten that I am also an only child.”

Sirius’ mouth fell agape before quickly recovering, “Shut up about the specifics. Let’s talk about the fittest bird over there.”

“How come he can say fittest bird but I can’t say-” James began to argue but quickly stopped his protest once realizing how terribly wrong he was.

“Should ask her out,” Peter smiled toothily, “Give her the Moon Special.”

Remus would look at him in disbelief before shaking his head, “Truly think about what you’ve just said.”

Peter thought quickly before slowly nodding in understanding “I see, when I saw Moon Special it makes it sound like-”

“Pete, my love, be quiet.” Sirius shushed, placing his finger on Peter’s lips dramatically.

“Oh merlin,” Peter would gag, “You need to wash your hands after putting in hair gel.”

From then on, it was incessant teasing.

Remus would flush angrily whenever the boys would crack a joke, even going so far to throw all of Sirius’ pillows onfire. 

And still, whenever he could without the boys noticing, he’d admire you. 

Little did he know, you were also equally, if not more affected by a certain Lycanthrope. 

Remus thanked the souls of heaven and hell when you were paired together for Potions.

He could’ve thrown Peter out of a window and James right next to him for the googly eyes they made when you were turned.

Remus would stutter, something he hadn’t done since he was six, as he spoke to you.

But you were patient and kind, even cracking jokes and sharing notes.

It took a lot of convincing and even threatening for Remus to even try to ask you out.

But because you were equally nervous about him, you thought he was asking you to study outside of class. 

Remus was more than confused when he saw you with heavy textbooks in your arms, but decided to “go with the flow” as James put it.

The two of you sat together, whispering and laughing as quietly as you could.

When night drew to a close, Remus was most surprised when you said, “I really enjoyed studying with you, Remus, but I was wondering if next time... we could maybe...” you smiled shyly, “Go on a date? Maybe?”

Remus’ jaw dropped and he couldn’t think of anything else to say but, “I thought this was a date.”

That was the first time of many that Remus made you laugh so hard you dropped your books. 

When you began dating, Remus was nervous ALL THE TIME.

Any time he thought about you, he’d get so nervous he’d almost begin sweating and his heart would beat so fast he thought he’d have to go to the infirmary.

You were more open and easier to bring out of your shy shell. 

He’d often find himself groaning at your silly puns and nearly shocked when you’d make the occasional dirty joke.

Remus knew he had his friends’ approval when you made a joke about Dumbledor’s sagging balls the first time you met them.

Sirius later said he thought you were so funny he’d shit himself.

Peter agreed while James slapped Remus’ on the shoulder.

Dates consisted of walking the grounds at Hogwarts, going to Hogsmeade and even sneaking out to the kitchen as night.

He had gotten in trouble maybe once or twice with McGonagall for allowing you to accompany him on late night rounds, but that was quickly forgiven as McGonogall seemed to favor you out of any of the students at Hogwarts.

One of Remus’ favorite things to do was to grab you by the waist when you weren’t expecting it.

You’d squeal and squirm as he pulled you in for a hug, telling him “One day you’ll scare me so hard I’m sure I’ll become a ghost.”

You loved to hold Remus’ hands.

Though Remus’ hands and arms had scars, you enjoyed tracing the tips of your fingers along the lines.

Remus found this soothing. He also particularly enjoyed when you went off course and decided to draw tiny hearts on his skin.

The two of you constantly found yourselves giving reminders to the other. 

“Have you drank water today? No? Don’t you think that’s something you should do?”

“Remember love, we have that essay for Charms due next Wednesday. If you don’t begin now, you’ll complain and whine about it and I’ll have nothing to say but ‘I told you so.’”

Remus found it adorable how much you loved to cuddle.

No, like, seriously, you loved to cuddle.

Sometimes, he’d be working away at a homework assignment, and you’d disappear somewhere in his dorm.

After stretching his neck, he’d see you laying down comfortable on his bed.

“What’re you doing all the way over there?” Remus asked, laughing lightly.

He couldn’t help but grin when he’d see you move the covers and pat the spot next to you rapidly.

“No no no, Darling, no, we’ve got homework and assignments to do.”

You would continue to pat, nodding your head fastly and giving him a grin.

Eventually, as always, he’d give in, grumbling to you that you’d only cuddle for “five minutes,” which usually translated to “that assignment won’t get done until tomorrow.”

Your favorite position, and his too, was when he rested his head on your chest.

It wasn’t his favorite because of your breasts, though that was a huge plus, but mostly because he could hear your heart.

Sometimes, it was slow, if you were drifting asleep or tired. Sometimes, it would beat fast.

It was your favorite position because there you could play with his hair, pulling and scratching lightly. It was also a lovely spot to rub his back comfortingly.

Remus spent copious amounts of nights, sitting with the boys, his head nearly between his legs as he cried.

He knew he’d have to tell you about his disease, he knew what your reaction would be and he knew it was selfish to keep it from you, but he had just gotten a taste of love and was quite sure he would die of withdrawal.

“Mate,” James would say softly, drawing an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “She isn’t going to care, werewolf or not, she loves you.”

“She’ll leave,” Remus whimpered. 

“No, she won’t,” Sirius shook his head, arms crossed and leaning on the dresser, “And if she does, it won’t be because of your werewolf-ness, it’ll be because of your hairy-toes.”

Remus felt a terrible ache in his chest, nearly dry heaving at the feeling.

“Really?” Peter would scold, “Padfoot, now is the time to bring up hairy-toes? At a moment like this?”

James rolled his eyes and continued to comfort his brother.

“As they say, humour is the medicine for all tragedy.”

“Tragedy?” Remus cried out.

“No! What I mean to say,” Sirius quickly recovered, “Is that you have nothing to worry about. Y/N Y/L/N is the last girl to ever be judgemental, I mean have you seen her-”

“Learn when to shut up.” James would warn. 

Sirius shut his mouth quite quickly. He knew there was no actual flaw to your personality or you in general, but sometimes Sirius really put his foot in his mouth when it came to emotions.

“What if she does?” Remus asked after a while.

“Does what?” Sirius sighed, sitting next to Remus on his bed. “Leave?” 

“Well,” Sirius pretended to think after a bit. He put his arm to hug Remus close, “We kill her.”

As much as Remus felt awful, he couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s absurdity and utter bluntness.

“No, but seriously, no pun intended, she is an amazing girl, truly, and you’re a somewhat okay bloke. You’ll be fine.” Sirius finished.

Remus was shaking when he told you.

He had asked you to meet him in the Astronomy tower after dark and had arrived nearly an hour early to pace and fret.

Hearing your footsteps climb the stairs, Remus thought that falling off the tower might be better than telling you.

When he did finally say it, he shut his eyes tightly. 

“Oh,” you said. “Well, that’s certainly a surprise.”

Remus would sputter out apologies and acceptances of the break up and promises to leave you alone for the rest of eternity. He only stopped when he heard you laugh. That laugh. The laugh that he so fell in love with you for.  

“What? Who said anything about breaking up?” you shook your head with a grin. “You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me.”

Remus never felt more relief when you connected your hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Only thing that matters to me is that you don’t kick dogs and you don’t hate ABBA. Thas all.” 

Quick Snapshots of Dating

You were the first to say I love you.

You watched Remus help some lost First-Years find their way along the changing staircase.

He just looked so sweet and kind and made you laugh when he responded to some kids asking him about his scars

“I literally killed a bear, with my hands. A huge bear.”

You couldn’t help it but pull your lovely boyfriend into a corridor and press a long kiss to his lips.

“What’s that for?” Remus teased. “The idea of me fighting a bear that attractive to you?”

When you said it, Remus’ knees buckled. 

His mouth went dry, he couldn’t say anything

Despite VERY MUCH wanting to say he loved you too

Instead, his mouth fell open and you laughed and kissed his nose

“See you after Potions,”

Remus made sure, that night when you were cuddling, to hold you closer than ever, telling you how much he loved you.

“I love you, I do,” Remus whispered, but quickly became nervous “If that’s alright with you.”

Remus becomes quite grumpy on Friday mornings.

You aren’t totally sure why, considering you are so close to the weekend, however you’d always have a cup of steaming dark coffee for him.

Despite the cold weather that Scotland brings, you always insisted on going outside for at least an hour on weekends.

Remus was rather shy when it came to PDA

He much preferred to kiss you in the privacy of one of your beds with the curtains drawn.

But, on the rare occasion, he’d sneak you a kiss between classes.

He couldn’t help it.

You had a habit of giving him cute eyes and saying, “Kiss, please.”

One of the boys would always see and pretend to throw up.

Becoming increasingly closer to Remus’ friends as well,

James was rather proud of his little Moony, always nudging him and asking him how his dates were.

Sirius would complain, but would always allow you to braid his hair, sometimes you’d place little flowers in them as well.

You always knew how to make Peter snort with laughter, it became dangerous when you were around during dinner as something always flew out of his nose.

Remus being more than content, ecstatic and heavily in love with you.

[hes-writer]

Patreon Masterlist

These are exclusive fics that you can read on my Patreon!

* = complete, ^ = in-progress, + = will be posted on tumblr, (s) = smut (implied or mentioned) writing count: 78 pieces

**billing cycle currently paused** | new patrons will still be charged

This is a reupload of my masterlist with sneak peeks of each piece so you know what's up :D

Multi-Part Series | One Shots | Drabbles | Extras

* Unwavering (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) - 6.5k, the one where harry cheats (again)

"Right. Maybe we can go out tonight to grab some dinner," She suggested, a hopeful glint in her eyes and he almost felt guilty for putting her on the back burner of his mind. "I really have to go, baby," Peeking his head around her frame, he spotted the untouched toast and apple juice resting on where he should be. "I'm sorry."

^ + Roommate Series (3) (4) (5) (6) - 9.8k, the one where harry and y/n are roommates

He sighed, “I finished my coffee ages ago. I was just waiting for you to finish studying so we could leave together and go home,” Y/N dropped her fingers from his wrist, slouching the slightest bit as butterflies attacked her stomach. “Don’t look at me like that. I just wanted you to get home safe,” He nudged her forehead with the ball of his palm, his face contorting to annoyance.

^ + Notes on Camp (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) - 16.5k, the one where harry and y/n are camp counsellors

Y/N looked around to be met with puckered lips and clenched hands as the campers practically requested for her to kiss their favourite counsellor. Wide, hopeful stares were willing her to commit.

“Alright, alright,” She bent her upper body to reach his cheek, licking over her lips once before pressing it on his skin. It was only a quick peck and then she pulled back. He stayed unmoving.

Jacky and Emy poked their finger at him on opposite sides. His cheek dimpling with their small indents. “Maybe you should do it again?”

* Friends Don't (1) (2) (3)- 3k, the one where lines are crossed

“It’s Harry Styles fanfiction on Tumblr,” She suggested a conversation, shyly smiling in embarrassment. “I can see that,” He murmured, using his thumb to scroll through the rest of the story, “It’s . . . interesting. People write these about me?” His retort made the situation seem like an utter surprise.

* Digress, Progress, Regress Series - 5k, the one where harry falls out of love

Y/N wondered if there was a chance to fixing what has been lost--what has disappeared as the canvas soaked through in a permeated osmosis. Coating the brush of blue with white paint took several layers to completely cover the mistakes. There had to be an effort in wanting to make the faults and errors completely opaque from the eye; the bleary, watery irises soaked with tears, dampening her lashes in a thick haze as she cried.

Tickle Fights (1)  - 1.2k, the one where bff!y/n teases harry about his boner

“What’s going on here, Harry?” The light tone of her voice indicated that she was teasing him, paired with the subtle movements of her lower half. Harry whined in response, feeling the blood rush downwards to make him even stiffer. “Does this feel good? Got hard over me straddling you, huh?” It was almost degrading, the way Y/N formed her question yet Harry couldn’t help a whimper from lingering in the air. He nodded, hands sliding down to grip at her moving hips.

Real Mature (1)  (2)  - part two is patron exclusive! - 603 words, the one where bff!harry and y/!n fight

“You shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for being bitter about you and Ruby,” She rested her forearms on his shoulders in a slant when he stood to his full height. “I know you’re happy with her,” Harry gave her a shy smile that confirmed his words. Ruby is someone special to Harry now and Y/N had to learn how to share his time, attention, and affection. “I reckon I’m just missing you a lot more now,” Y/N’s tone was sad and despondent, trailing her gaze to the floor where she almost chuckled at Harry’s fuzzy bunny slippers which she had gotten him.

^ Fine Line Series: Adore You - 1.1k the one where harry and y/n are friends with benefits

Still, with her back against the wall and Harry’s fingers still gripping her hips—she waited for his response. I told you I loved you. Say it back, Y/N thought. “I love her, Y/N,” He mumbled against her neck in a drunken stupor. So close.

Kinkmas Blurbs (1 - 7) - 4.6k, the one where it’s all smutty

Maybe it was the way that his jaw ticked harshly every time he threw his head back at a particularly good stroke. You wondered what he was imagining that had him bucking his hips to his fist before realizing that the movements would probably cause you to wake up. Still, his hooded lids didn’t peel open—not until a core shaking fondle of his heavy balls forced a choked whine out of his throat.

Harry’s neck snapped to your figure, catching the way you looked at him as if you were in distress that he wasn’t cumming anytime soon—not when you were there, willing and able to help.

“Fuck, love. ‘M sorry,” He mumbled, not stopping the flicks of his wrist. In fact, you swore that you could hear the squelching of his clear pre-cum squishing between his fingers.

The Secretary (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) 11k, the one where harry is the CEO and y/n is the assistant (cheating fic)

Two months ago, Y/N unburied a not-so-hidden secret that Harry tried to bury. Two months ago, Y/N walked in on her boyfriend and his secretary fucking on his office table. Two months ago, Y/N experienced everything from pain and discomfort, to disappointment and being scornful. She threaded the line of confronting him or waiting for the day he came forward and admitted it himself. There was a desire for Y/N to see Harry sweat beneath her beady eyes, watching him scratch the back of his pants in a nervous manner. She wanted to hear him stutter as he spat an excuse, she yearned to see him pleading with his gorgeous green eyes for her to stay.  Y/N craved for his throat to close up, whimpers choked from his trachea because he was losing his stability as she walked away from him.

(s) Tension (1) (2) - 5.3k, the one where harry and y/n hate each other

“S’that why you hate me so much?”

His fingertips tapped his thigh methodically, crumpling a faint thud against his jeans. With how close they were sitting, Y/N’s bare knee brushed against his clothing. A burn of desire and anticipation lit inside of her like a dose of gasoline another in a flaming hot fire.

Harry shook his head, “Don’t hate you."

Champagne Problems- 4.4k, the one where marriage is a sensitive topic, the 1 - coming soon!

The freshly popped bottle of champagne poured into the flute on the table beside her bubbled and simmered, the sizzling reaction of the golden liquid ignited a moment of realization within her. The reason why her body felt more weighted, why tears filled her glazed eyes, pricking her corneas and threatening to spill down her face. Y/N’s heart had cracked–she was certain that everybody around her could hear it.

One Shot

(s) Achy Back - 813 words, the one where harry draws y/n a bath

A pout sat on her face as Harry stopped himself from ducking his head and catching her plush lips with his, craving the sweet taste of her and her strawberry lip balm. Her arms wrapped around his snatched waist, halting his breath at the tightness of her embrace and settling for a kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils, knowing that she had taken shower hours prior.

A Letter to the Man I’ve Loved - 1.5k, the one where harry receives a letter from his ex

Is it really worth it to look back in retrospect about ‘what had been’ when she can think about ‘what could have been’ if both of them realized their faults? Granted, he was more resilient in that sense than her, but he was no better at the time. She made mistakes and it had haunted her to this day, practically killing her with each moment she spent without him by her side.

Renegade - 981 words, the one where harry and y/n do a tiktok dance

“What are y’doing?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as his large palms ruffled the fluffy towel on his damp curls. The steam from the bathroom escaped to your bedroom where you were panting with effort, your chest heaving so hard that the peaks of your breasts rose with each breath.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You retorted slowly, hiding your hands behind your back were your fingers gripped your phone. Your thumb dug hard on the volume bottom, frantically trying to decrease the music from the phone speaker.

(s) Drop the Towel - 644 words, the one where harry does the ‘drop the towel’ challenge

You gasped at the sight, the knife clanging on the marble counter, “Ooh, hi there,”

He smirked cockily, watching your eyes observe his body, tongue subconsciously peeking out between your lips until you snapped your head to the window, “Oh my god! There are people out there, Harry!” You wailed in alarm, bending over to hand him his towel.

All I Ask - 2.2k, the one where feelings aren’t mutual

“I don’t want to be scared of what will happen tomorrow or if all we have is right now because we’ll have nothing left but I am,” A sob ripped through his throat, emotions were heightened tenfold because she was so close yet so far and they were still Harry and Y/N but at the same time they weren’t. They’ve changed over the span of one night. “All we have is tonight,”

Little Prince - 583 words, the one where 7-year-old harry takes care of his best friend

“Y/N? Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I swear I wasn’t mad at you, I was just jok- Why are you smiling?” Harry yelped, panic evident in his shrill voice. His hands wandered towards her face, tilting it left to right, up and down, searching for any visible and invisible injuries besides the bump on her forehead.

Stressed Out - 1.8k, the one where y/n has a huge term paper due

“What d’ya mean I don’t get it?” He closed the paperback, making sure to clip in his bookmark to save his spot.

A pregnant pause slithered the room. Her fingers typing against the keys of her laptop ceased as she shot him a glare, “You’re not studying, are you? All you do is write songs, fiddle with a few instruments and sing it in front of people who adore you,”

Valentine’s Day - 1.5k, the one where harry runs into trouble and y/n is there to save him

“Shit! Are you crazy?” Y/N gasped in surprise when the passengers seat was occupied, the door opening and slamming shut all while the car moved at a speed of 15 km/h —cursing her forgetfulness for not clicking the locks shut.

“Keep driving!” The passenger shouted, looking back through the windshield.

Dream With Me - 1.3k, the one where y/n has trouble sleeping

Harry’s admiration gets interrupted when a sudden jolt took over Y/N’s body. He dropped his mouth open a little in shock, rubbing her back soothingly when she whimpered quietly, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” She must have had experienced one of those moments when she was falling until her vision drooped to a shaded black.

Pet Name - 1.2k, the one where bff!harry just wants y/n to call him by his pet name again

His voice emulated a soft, syrupy tone that lingered in the air whenever he spoke. He was the colour honey itself–golden and yellow like the colour of the sun. Harry was bright in its sense of intelligence and the way he illuminated the whichever room he entered. His kindness catered to everyone’s needs and left pieces of his heart wherever he went.

Harry was honey.

Shave - 768 words, the one where harry helps y/n shave her coochie

She sniffles some more, “I’m trying to shave, H. It’s so itchy but I-I can’t reach down there,”

Y/N began to sob. The rattle of the razor clanking on the bathtub floor where she sat her bum on the edge. Her baby bump was causing her to teeter over the porcelain which urged Harry to swiftly plant his hands on her to keep her steady.

“I’m so huge! I’m the size of a house,” Y/N palmed the crest of her bump, rubbing it loosely as she admired the stretched skin yet slightly wishing that it would disappear and she was holding their baby in her arms instead.

(s) Don’t Worry, Darling - 1.5k, the one where y/n rides harry

He slipped down the headboard, resting his back flat on the mattress with Y/N sliding with him. She positioned her feet to rest near his knees, wrapping their limbs together so she could have some sort of sanity whilst Harry incepted on his shattering thrusts. Feet were planted on the mattress to give his lower half elevation to propel his hips against Y/N’s core. Harry’s fingers left white marks on her skin, gripping the plush flesh and essentially spreading Y/N open as he rapidly shoved his dick over and over inside of her with no signs of slowing down. He staggered for a few moments when her pulsing core emitted dazing throbs over his leaking cock but Y/N was quick to duplicate and resume the pace he had set with the movement of her hips.

To Be Loved - 2.3k, the one where y/n’s feelings are more than friendly

“I love you. Don’t you love me back?”

Harry’s eyes visibly widened, clearly taken aback by the question spewing from Y/N’s mouth. Her heat cheeks and a shy stance; knees knocking against his knobby ones while her dainty hands interlaced her fingers.

Revelation - 2.1k, the one where famous!y/n and harry are spotted together (pre-relationship)

Before there were Harry and Y/N--the power couple--there was Harry and Y/N.

Y/N, who was one of the most sought after female artists in the industry because of her angelic voice. The woman who had managed to catch the lingering stares of every household and the ears of many listeners with her truthful songs; narrative from the experiences she had gone through and shared through the art of songwriting.

Harry, who was quite the artist for the night. Harry’s limbs were being pulled metaphorically every which to ensure that the cameras captured him clapping respectfully in the audience. Others were asking him to stay for a bit more time backstage for content for an upcoming video. Right now, he was sat in his uncomfortable chair beside a handful of producers and well-known singers. A brief hug and whisper with Ariana Grande were enough for their fans to implode about a possible collaboration, granted that Harry had written a song for her album before. But Harry was certain that that feature wasn’t coming for a long while.

Apple Cheeks - 1.1k, the one where harry says something and y/n isn’t listening

Clearing his throat, he began, “I love you, Y/N. And I know that it might be too soon considering how short our relationship has been so far but I-I really do have strong feelings for you,”

Harry dropped his gaze as soon as he managed to peel off the first three words from his hoarse throat. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to let you know that I really care for you and me. I definitely something for us in the future and I hope you feel the same,”

Dreadful seconds shivered up Harry’s spine. His stare was still fixed on her shuffling feet and the floor. It was painful to hear nothing but silence so Harry decided to courageously lift his head up.

Affliction - 1.5k, the one where Harry breaks down (TW: depressive thoughts)

It wasn’t even that Harry did not know how to say ‘no’ because he truly did. However, anyone would be worn-out by the amount of exhaustion carried on his back. That cold shudder of loneliness--even when he wasn’t alone-- because nobody shared the experience of defeat with him. The twitch of his ears straining to listen when nobody would do the same for him. A subtle jerk of the corners of his lips because he could not keep the smile plastered on his face like paint chipping off the drywalls. The flutter of tired lids waiting to be shut tightly as tears were wrung from his green eyes, lashes tickling his skin underneath the violent colour of his eye bags.

From the Dining Table - 748 words, the one where y/n’s new boyfriend looks a lot like harry

Y/N wondered if her former lover shared the same thoughts as she did. The girl that he woke next to—was she still there? Did they share the bed together—not just in the morning—but the nights as well? If so, did Harry love her like he did with Y/N? Or was he just pretending to be okay like she was?

Blanket for Two - 990 words, the one where y/n kicks harry out of bed

And now, Harry was in bed with the woman he loves. Her light snores echoing in the dim room and he was staring up at the ceiling, shivering in his bones. If she were awake, Y/N probably would have made a snide, joking comment about how he shouldn’t sleep naked, especially in the winter.  Not like she didn’t do that either--she was practically naked with the thin camisole over her body.  The difference was that Y/N had an extra layer of blanket keeping her warm, shielding her skin from the night air and Harry only had the friction of his palms rubbing against his arms.  He was sure that he was a hint away from his teeth chattering. Harry had half the mind to dip his freezing feet beneath the blanket and jolt her awake with the change in temperature.

That’ll show her, he thought.

Around 1:32 - 3.2k, the one where y/n has a wet dream

“What?” Harry spat, tugging his shirt over his head, waiting for you to form a coherent excuse. “‘Think that jus’ because you woke up horny from a dream that y’can touch yourself? What a slut.  Are you that desperate?”

Your cheeks flamed at his words of degradation, doubling your arousal and one that had you smushing your thighs together to relieve the ache. You rolled your eyes as he continued his rant instead of using the time to keep you satisfied.  That was his job, wasn’t it? To make you cum and make you feel nothing but pleasure, yet here he was shaming you for touching yourself. Granted, you did it without his permission and done so while he was asleep beside you, but still.

“Wouldn’t have touched myself if you treated me well.”

+ Stories in My Eyes - 1.2k, the one where dad!Harry gets woken up in the middle of the night

And while he liked to think that he had gotten the hang of—quite literally— his kid dangling on his leg like some sort of koala, pulling on his hair every time he gave Beau a piggy back ride, and the random visits late at night where the small child would stand at the doorway with his teddy bear so quietly only to say, “Can I sleep with you and mumma?” He was not at all prepared for tonight’s’ events.

+ Feather Boa - 1.5k, the one where harry comes home after the Grammys

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Oh, stop that!”

“Stop what?” Harry nudged the strap of his custom tote bag higher on his shoulder.

“You just won a Grammy, you goose!”

Harry’s gaze softened, endeared at how happy Y/N was for him. She was jumping on the tips of her toes, hands clasped in front of her as she stared at him with admiration and awe.

(s) Roughed Up - 2.8k, the one where harry’s domestic and y/n’s mind wanders

You whimper in return, almost collapsing straight on his body when Harry uses your body to move you up and down his cock. His curls flop on the soft pillow beneath his head, sweat matting the tiny hairs to his face. The way he looks at you with such intensity and a certain kind of awe as if he couldn’t believe that this was really happening is rewarding. Hooded eyes observing how your body twitches in his grip, gasping at how strong he felt underneath you like you were merely a ragdoll to be played wit

Pudding Cups - 1k, the one after harry steals food from the kitchen (Notes on Camp Extras)

“So is it common practice for counsellors to steal food from the kitchen?”

Harry lifts his head up at inquiry, shifting his attention from gently taking out the contents of the reusable bag towards Y/N.  She was laying on his mattress, flat on her back as she stared at the wooden ceiling.  If she looked closely, Y/N was sure that his light bulb was flickering the tiniest bit and usually, she would’ve been freaking out over the fact that she was in the middle of the woods, hovering over a potential power cut.  But the fear subsided once she reminded herself that Harry was around.

“Hopefully not,” He muses with a suggestive eyebrow.

Drabbles:

(s) Drabble #1: Fratboy!Harry - 469 words, the one where y/n meets fratboy!harry at a party

Y/N snapped her head towards the member. When she applied for the rush, she didn’t expect that she would have to sleep with someone in order to officially join the sorority.  “What? Why him?

Sadie chuckled, sensing the panic in her voice. “Don’t worry, Harry’s nice. Besides, everybody does it,” She swirled her drink around, mixing the liquids together. Her lashes draped over her cheeks, almost touching the apples. “Are you in?”

Drabble #2: Asshole!Harry - 848 words, the one where harry cheats

You were calm, silent, and patient to see where he would take the conversation. Guilt was not present when you stood face to face in a battle of tranquility that pierced through your heart. His eyes gleamed in concealed smugness while his tongue curled in endless apologies. You knew him too well that he didn’t even stand a chance to hide his true intentions. But to Harry, you were a naive little girl that failed to acknowledge the difference between his acting and the truth.

(s) Drabble #3: Tease - 1.4k, the one where harry teases y/n

Harry plunged two fingers in her hole carefully, biting his lip to suppress the sound he was bound to release from the feeling of her wet walls suffocating his digits. He delivered punctual thrust, making sure to graze her sensitive spot to heighten her arousal. “Harry,”

He stepped back abruptly, pulling his fingers out and creating distance between them. “We have dinner to get to,”

(s) Drabble #4: Dessert - 1.7k, the one where y/n makes dinner but harry wants dessert

His thoughts were always about her no matter how hard he tried not to. And the fact that she took the time out of her day to prepare him something that he will enjoy; well, Harry’s heart just about swelled up to three times the size in his thumping chest.

She pulled away, shaking her head adamantly, “No way! I spent all day cooking and you’re not gonna skip it just to eat my pussy,”

He the corners of his eyes squinted in offence at her description, “Your pussy’s top tier, baby.” Harry ‘tsked’ his tongue, “If yeh didn’t know that already, then I’m doing a horrid job,”

(s) Drabble #5: Mine - 579 words, the one where harry is obsessed with y/ns tits

But he couldn’t exactly do that when all Harry wanted to do was do her. The smooth skin was supported by a navy blue push-up bra; he could tell by the lace mesh that he could see peeking out. It gave Y/N every favour because Harry was trying so hard not to let saliva pool in his mouth and drip out in a line of drool, his eyes widening with each movement she made with her arms, jostling her boobs a little bit here and there.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Y/N waved her arms to catch his attention. A frown creased her brows as he blinked sluggishly before finding enough coherence to recognize that she was trying to talk to him.

(s) Drabble #6: Early Mornings - 1k, the one where harry thinks y/n is prettiest in the morning

“Get to see ya’ when you’re most beautiful,” Harry tickled his nose on hers, smiling at the way the feature scrunched up as she giggled. He groaned at the contractions her walls gave while her tummy flipped in gentle laughter. “Oi! What’s so funny?” He smushed her face with kisses, pausing his thrust halfway through which had her whining.

Drabble #7: Getaway - 952 words, the one where harry is always cold in the mornings

"Y/N, have you taken my purple bathrobe?"

“No,” Y/N tugged the lavender coloured fabric by the sleeves first. Then, by the lapels draping over her chest, drawing them tighter to block the gust of wind currently caressing Harry’s floppy curls.

Twisting his body, a knowing look overtook Harry’s face as Y/N exited the cabin door. The sheepish smile on his lover’s face granting all the information he needed for this morning’s chilly inception.

There she was, clad in the said purple bathrobe.

Drabble #8: A Little Chilly - 451 words, the one where harry sleeps on the couch

“‘S my bed. Dunno why Lydia can’t jus’ stay on the couch,”

“It’s Y/N!” She wailed, walking closer to the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Dear, we didn’t know that you were coming home,” Anne tried reasoning with him, not seeing the gravity of the situation as Harry was making it out to be.

Text Messages:

Text Messages #1 - ‘would you love me if I was snail?’

Text Messages #2 - ‘did you know we had a quiz today?’

Text messages #3 - ‘did you steal my hoodie?’

Notes/Behind the Scenes

Notes: Tarnish

Notes: Stressed Out