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wososcripts · 3 months

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Tell Me of Your Grief

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: The fourteenth of March brings back some rather difficult memories, and you don't always make the healthiest decisions. Stina intervenes.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: sorry it's been a while, I've started uni again which means my writing is somewhat slower! With some luck I'll be able to get things up once a week? But that remains to be seen... I promise this is hurt/comfort and not just pain btw.

Warnings ⚠️: discussion of death, self harm behaviors (mild), angst angst angst

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You woke up that morning to a text from Jonas saying you didn’t have to come to training.

It felt weak to admit it, but part of you was relieved. You knew Katie must’ve talked to him, which was mortifying if you let yourself think about it too much, but she knew you needed this day to yourself.

It was the anniversary of your best friend’s passing—five years in the making. You hadn’t told many of your teammates what happened, or why you became so withdrawn and somber the week around the 14th of March. It was too difficult to explain. All of the dramatics that surrounded the event, the pain, what you had done wrong, what she had too, it was all still too delicate for eyes you didn’t completely trust.

You hadn’t even told your girlfriend Stina yet. You’d meant to, really, you had, but the days slipped by and there never seemed like a good time to do it. You knew it would ruin any good mood you were in, and honestly you enjoyed having Stina as your respite when the rest of the world seemed to be knocking against your skull. But it felt wrong that she didn’t know. It felt as though you were hiding something from her, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“Hi baby, I’m not feeling well today so I won’t be at practice. Don’t worry your head when I’m not there. It’s nothing too serious, though, so I’ll be back tomorrow.” You spoke into your phone, recording a voice note to send to her so she wouldn’t be left in the dark about where you were.

Stina was a worrier, something you yourself could understand, so you always made the effort to let her know if you were running late or not going to something. Otherwise you’d inevitably get a call with her anxious voice on the other line.

It was early, too early for even Stina to be up. The sun had barely begun cresting over the horizon, casting a slight glow to everything. You wanted to go back to sleep, particularly since you hadn't slept all that well to begin with. Your back hurt from being tensed all night as you were plagued with anxious dreams. On your palms were the remnants of nail indentations—some of them bloody from how hard you had been pressing.

You turned on a podcast and closed your eyes, hoping the sound of human voices would lull you to sleep. It must've worked for a little while, because the next time you opened your eyes it was truly morning, and the podcast had switched to another episode.

The dreams had continued, unsurprisingly considering your waking mental state, and the extra hour of sleep you might be able to get if you closed your eyes wasn't worth it. So you got out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to go for a run.

You weren't typically a runner—in fact you were practically ethically against doing it as a hobby—but it was useful for clearing your head. And with no training today, it would feel good to get out for at least a little while. So you blasted your music and took off into the streets of London, completely lost in your own world. Nobody spoke to you, nobody looked at you.

By the time you had finished, you were sweaty, red-faced, and exhausted. The endorphins began to flood your system as you stripped and started the shower. You turned it almost as high as it could go, hoping for the burn against your skin. You hissed, stepping under the spray, and tears sprung to your eyes. Your skin immediately began to redden. But you didn’t move to lower the heat, instead grabbing your shampoo, gritting your teeth, and bearing it.

—

“Morning, Blackstenius.” Beth called, clapping her on the back soundly as she wandered into the locker room.

Stina expected to find you there, sitting by your locker getting changed into your kit and reading your book as you always did, each morning. But you weren’t there. Your locker hadn’t even been touched. She furrowed her brow, then remembered that you had sent her a message earlier. Maybe you had asked her for a ride and she hadn’t seen? Maybe you were going to be late today? Maybe you had some kind of appointment you’d forgotten about until the last minute—you were notorious for that.

“Morning,” Katie said, sitting down next to Stina on the bench and pulling her kit out of her bag.

“Morning, Katie.” She replied, opening her phone to look at her message.

She brought the phone to her ear, confusion and concern filling her chest as she listened to your voice. Though your words weren’t all that worrying, she could hear in your voice that things weren’t right.

“How’s she doing?” Katie asked, having heard your voice coming from the phone. Her voice was cautious, something unusual for the Irish captain.

“Did you know she wouldn’t be here today?” Stina asked, confused as to why Katie seemed to be clued in to your mood before her. Maybe you had sent her a similar message? She was your best friend, after all. The two of you made a ridiculous pair—her loud and aggressive, you nearly silent and composed—but you’d known each other longer than anyone else on the team, and everyone knew Katie would do practically anything for you.

Katie was quiet, glancing around at the other girls in the room. Now Stina was worried. Even though you had told her not to be, that it wasn’t anything serious, she couldn’t help it now that Katie was acting so strangely.

Once it was just Stina and Katie in the locker room, Katie answered her question.

“Listen, it isn’t my place to tell you anything. You know how private she is…” Katie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you, probably didn’t want to worry you, the idiot,” she mumbled under her breath to an increasingly concerned Stina.

“Katie.” Stina said firmly, “What the fuck is going on?”

She wasn’t usually one to swear. But where you were concerned, the possibility that you were hurting, and had hidden it from her, that warranted much more than cursing.

“Today is difficult for her, very difficult. That’s all I feel comfortable saying. But if you want to go, Jonas is going to understand.”

Stina’s heart was in her stomach. Images flashed through her mind, a thousand different horrible things this could mean.

"Difficult?" She questioned, "Katie, is she safe? Do I have to be prepared for—"

"It's not like that, she isn't in physical danger."

The answer wasn't reassuring to Stina, who now felt a little ill at the thought of you home alone today. She should be there with you. Someone should be there, if you didn't want her (God, she hoped you wanted her, trusted her). The urge to press more information out of Katie was strong, but Stina held herself back. Katie was right—you needed to tell Stina yourself. Otherwise any insight into your head would be forced entry, a violation of the trust you had both with Katie and with her.

So Stina simply nodded and looked back at her phone to reply to your message.

Okay, I hope you're feeling all right. Can I swing by later and bring you something? I'd love to see you <3

She wanted to give you an option to say no to her visit—though she would prefer to just go over there now. At least now if you didn't answer before she showed up she could say she had reached out.

—

You waited until the water ran cold to get out of the shower. Your skin was raw to the touch, and still a subtle red color after you had dried yourself off and began braiding your hair. You could hardly stand to look at yourself.

You threw on the only clothes you could stand on your skin—a pair of soft sweatpants and fuzzy socks—along with Stina's old Häcken hoodie she left at your place a few days ago. It smelled of her which comforted you even if she wasn't here.

Your phone dinged with a message. Upon opening it, you saw Stina and Katie had messaged, and that you had two missed calls.

"Eat something." Was all your message from Katie said.

She knew you, and knew you wouldn't want to eat today. But you had to.

You went to open Stina's text when your phone lit up with another incoming call. It was from Sandra, the mother of your friend. She did this every year, and every year you told yourself you wouldn't pick up. It wasn't healthy for either of you—it reopened wounds that were barely scabbing over as it was. She inevitably cried, and asked why you had left her daughter alone that night, and you bit your lip raw trying to keep quiet and apologize.

But even though you knew the script, you picked up the phone.

"Hi," you said, your voice noticeably smaller.

You heard a sigh of relief on the other end.

"How are you, Sandra?" You continued, your fingers picking at your lip anxiously. You felt it start to bleed and did nothing.

"Are you still in Limerick?" You continued your flood of questions, waiting for her onslaught to begin.

A few minutes later, once you were on your tenth question and you'd switched from your lip to pressing your nails into your bloodied palm, you heard her begin to cry.

You weren't sure how you managed this every year. Memories of the funeral flashed behind your eyes, and how you hadn't been allowed to stand near the front with the rest of the friends and family. How Sandra had wailed, and smacked you across the face in the parking lot. You stared at your kitchen backsplash and just listened.

"Why, why did you do it?" She cried, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

"You left her alone, you killed her, you always brought her home expect that one fucking night and look what happened. It should've been you, it should've been you, you don't deserve this—"

And so it continued. Tears streamed down your face as your brain began to shut down as a defense mechanism. You just felt numb. Nobody else existed in the world except for you and this woman whose life you had ruined. No Katie, No Stina, Nobody that gave you their love and wanted you here. You didn't deserve what you had, not your success where it should've been your friend's, not your team, not your girlfriend. You were an imposter on this planet, a thief.

—

It turned out that going over to your place wasn't as simple as it seemed. Stina tried asking Jonas if she could be excused from practice, but he insisted that she stay just for an hour. Arsenal had a match with the Spurs in four days and Jonas wanted to go over strategies with the forwards. No skipping.

So Stina stayed—looking at her phone every thirty seconds for a text from you. There was nothing, and it freaked her out even more.

Whatever Jonas was saying, none of it was registering. She would ride the bench if she had to, it didn't matter to her now. Her leg bounced nervously, and Viv looked at her with concern on her face every couple of minutes. When Jonas went outside to take a quick call, she turned to Stina and immediately asked after her.

"What's wrong, is it something with Odi?"

Stina nodded, her tight lipped expression telling Viv all she needed to know. She gave Stina a look of sympathy and glanced at her watch, clearly wondering when the meeting would be over as well.

"Odi, something's wrong with her?" Beth butted in unabashedly.

You'd gotten the nickname for a few reasons: you'd danced for years as a child as a ballerina, which showed in your play. You were showy, and graceful, not the aggressive type. Like a swan, someone had once said to you—and the swan lake association stuck: Odette, or Odi for short. Arsenal's dancer.

Jonas re-entered the room before Beth could ask any more questions, saving Stina the struggle.

"For Christ's sake, let the poor girl go," Beth called out as Stina checked her phone for the hundredth time.

Jonas sent a look Beth's way, but decided to be merciful.

"Alright, Blackstenius, you're excused. But I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Stina practically ran back to the locker room, throwing her kit into her bag and getting changed as fast as she could. A steady sense of dread was building in her. She decided to call you as she left the training grounds and walked to her car, hoping she could catch you and tell you she was coming. It would soothe her mind just to hear your voice.

But instead of your voice on the other end, Stina was met with the busy signal. That confused her even more—you weren't a fan of phone calls necessarily, and she knew your parents would be working now, so it was unlikely they would have called you.

She tried once more, hoping she had just happened to catch you at the tail end of a call, but you still didn't answer.

—

You had barely hung up the phone with Sandra before the tears began to pour from your eyes. It was as though time had made no difference and you were hearing of your friend's death for the first time. All the pain, all the self loathing that had fallen down upon you then still crushed your shoulders with its weight.

Your phone dinged again—a message from Katie.

Respond to me or I'm coming over there myself.

You didn't want Katie here. She had been there in years past, and for her to see you no better despite the time and therapy you put in, well you couldn't handle the shame.

I'm alive and well - see you tomorrow at training

You replied, knowing if you told her you were fine and left it at that she might kill you herself.

You giggled at the thought of her huffing and puffing at you, demanding you take better care of yourself like a surrogate mother. When your mother wasn’t around, Katie did a damn good impression of her. You never got away with anything if Katie had a say. You laughed through your tears, feeling like every nerve of yours was on a razor's edge.

A knock at the door barely registered in your mind as you wandered over to the couch, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and waste away for the next twelve hours. Your head was beginning to hurt from all the crying, which only soured your mood further. For the first time you had the thought: I don't want to be alone.

You thought it must’ve been a hallucination, the way Stina appeared in front of you.

—

Stina wasn’t sure what to expect when she knocked on the door of your apartment. She had spent the entire drive over worrying about how she could find you, partially cursing Katie for giving her just enough info to get her mind going in a million unhelpful directions. The fact that you weren’t texting her back hadn’t helped either. The road before her blurred as she drove without thinking, her body getting her to your apartment building on instinct.

The elevator dinged at each floor and with it her heartbeat increased.

When you didn’t answer the door it dropped.

“Hello?” Stina called out, having opened the door with the spare key you had given her a few months ago. She cursed herself for not staying with you last night when you looked so weighed down, so tired. She’d let you convince her you were fine—something she wouldn’t do again anytime soon.

When she turned the corner from your kitchen into the open space of your living room she spotted you. There you were, curled up on the couch in a small ball, silent.

“Did you hear me knock?” She asked softly, approaching you.

You didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her.

She slowly reached out a hand to place it on your head gently, when you turned and looked at her. It frightened her—the look in your eyes. She hadn’t ever seen them so empty.

“Stina?” you whispered, confusion present in your tone.

“Yes, min kärlek, jag är här.”

She put a hand softly on your face, cupping your cheek.

“You’re really here?”

There were tears beginning to gather in your already red eyes. Stina felt her throat constrict. You’d been crying, clearly a lot by how swollen your face was.

Stina pulled you up and into her arms easily, shifting you so she could sit on the couch with you in her lap.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, remembering that you had said once that hearing her speak her native Swedish calmed you down.

You wiped your eyes, lip still trembling slightly.

“Did Katie say something? Or Jonas?”

Stina wiped your cheeks with the pad of her thumb, brow creased with worry.

“Katie said today was hard for you, that’s it. Promise.”

You went silent, thinking.

“I was going to tell you. I promise, I meant to. But it just never seemed like a good time, or I just wanted to avoid it as long as possible…you see, Katie met me not long after it happened, she was there, it’s different. I didn’t trust her with this and not you on purpose. She can’t help but know.” You shifted off of Stina’s lap, curling in on yourself next to her so your skin wasn’t touching.

“I hate myself for it. I do, really. And every time I tell someone, they might hate me too, I know that. And I just couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t give you the chance to hate me.”

Stina put a hand on your shoulder, biting her lip to contain a small sob when you flinched away from her. It was as if you weren’t even there in front of her. All of the grace and kindness and light that had been there just a few days ago seemed to have been swallowed by darkness. To hear you say the words ‘I hate myself’? Stina could cry at the thought of it. Those were words that should never come from your mouth. It was like a knife in her ribcage.

“Min söta… älskling”

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed, putting your hands over your eyes and hiding your face from her.

"Snälla, låt mig hjälpa dig, please, I want to help.”

You shook your head, face still obscured from Stina’s view.

This was horrible. Stina felt as though she’d eaten something rotten the way her stomach churned. She was helpless, completely in the dark. Here she was, the person who was supposed to take care of you and love you, and she could hardly do anything. All she could think to do as you cried quietly was pull you into her side and rock you slowly. A melody popped into her head—one her mother had sang to her as a child when she was ill.

Stina softly sang, trying not to feel embarrassed by her voice. You were beginning to calm, your hands dropping from your face to her shirt, holding it close. By the time she was finished, the room was quiet, empty of your cries. You were clinging to her, your face buried in the crook of her neck as if you were ashamed of the comfort you needed.

“What was that song?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“It’s a lullaby. I can’t remember the name.”

Stina felt you nod against her skin.

She opted not to say anything further. You were exhausted, she could tell. Anything you wanted to say, you needed to volunteer.

After a few moments, she felt your grip on her shirt tighten.

“When I was nineteen, my best friend died.”

Whatever Stina had been expecting to come out of your mouth, that wasn’t it. She sucked in a breath, trying to remain unaffected. You needed her strength.

“We had been friends for years, since we were kids. And we’d gotten in this huge fight over something… uni I think. I had an offer to play professionally. I had been drinking, so had she. And I always walked her home, always, when she had been drinking. The way to her house was a bit sketchy, you know? So I figured two people were better than one if anything happened. But the things she said to me that night… I’d never been so upset in my life.”

You took a breath,

“So I refused to walk her. She didn’t press, just turned up her nose and walked away, didn’t even say goodbye. And I waited for my bus. The next morning I get a call from her mum—she’s been killed.”

Stina could barely trust herself to breathe.

“I let it happen, I’m the reason she died.”

“No—” Stina began, but you cut her off.

“When they held the funeral, I wasn’t allowed to say anything. I wasn’t allowed anywhere but the very back of the church, because they all knew it was my fault. And still, they know it, they remind me of what happened, what I’ve done. I stole her life!”

“Stop!” Stina demanded, her face flushed with anger. You were taken aback by her passion, and quieted. “You did not steal anything, you didn’t kill her, it isn’t your fault!” She grabbed your hand as you pulled back from her.

“You lost your best friend in such a horrible way, and nobody checked in? Nobody held you?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but this time Stina silenced you.

“I want you to tell me what you mean by ‘they remind you’ of what happened.”

You refused to meet her eyes.

“It’s not good. Not for me or her… she calls me, my friend’s mom, to talk.” You hesitated, but explained the routine to your girlfriend when she fixed you with a look.

“That’s…” Stina seemed at a loss for words, “you are the strongest person I know. And you rake yourself across hot coals for a crime that isn’t even yours. For a woman who wants to see you suffer, who can’t accept your healing. That isn’t right. You did not kill her. That is someone else’s burden to carry.”

You burst into tears again.

—

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because the next time you wake up you’re in bed, and Stina is wrapped protectively around you. Her warmth encases you; she holds you more protectively than usual, her arms shielding you from the world.

Eventually the two of you get back up, though not before Stina wraps you in a crushing embrace and lets you know she’s staying for a couple of days. No negotiating.

She makes dinner, you clean. It’s the first time you’ve eaten all day, and you think she can tell by the way she watches you intently. You feel cared for, and it’s a little overwhelming. Stina doesn’t let you out of her sight save a few trips to the bathroom and one brief call from her sister that she has to take.

You didn’t expect things to shake her up so much.

She helps you clean the wounds on your palms, grimacing at the sight of them once you unfurl your fingers for her. You try to tell her you can deal with them yourself—especially with how much it seems to upset her—but she isn't having it. You see her set her brow and concentrate on cleaning and bandaging the damaged skin, tears only glazing her eyes as you hiss in pain.

Eventually you convince her that you're fine enough to settle down on the couch and watch a movie. She insists on having you in her lap—something that you find equally as comforting. Stina isn't typically all that tactile, but now each moment apart from you seems to worry her.

You're about halfway into the film and slowly drifting off into her chest when you feel her whisper something into your skin. You think she assumes you're asleep (and you nearly are) but you make out her voice slightly.

"Tack Gud att du är här." She repeats it, and soon you can feel the drops of her tears hitting your shoulder.

"Stina…" you whisper, repositioning yourself to face her.

"förlåt" she says, wiping her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry… It was an intense day." You press a kiss to her cheek.

"I was so worried," Stina starts, and you figure it's best not to interrupt her, "when Katie said that you might be struggling, I couldn't think of anything else. You can't hurt yourself anymore, please." Stina takes your bandaged hand.

"If you were gone one day, I don't know how I'd cope."

"You don't have to worry about that, ever."

"You are the most important thing in my life." Stina's lip trembles, and you wonder how you're managing to keep it together.

You pull her into another kiss, lips sore from how you had abused them earlier. The pain reminds you of the struggle of the day, but Stina's hand holds the depths in front of you at bay.

"I'll always be here." She promises.

You begin to think of something lighter. Of an ounce of forgiveness. Of a year that does not revolve around the rising and setting of the sun on this one day. A moment of peace afforded to yourself. The thought passes your mind—you do not deserve this. You instead think of love.

#woso x reader #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #stina blackstenius #woso #woso community #arsenal x reader #swewnt x reader #my writing #i hope this satisfies some of the stina girls #and happy new year (belated lol)

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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{8} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Jongho this chapter)

Words: 9,844

Warnings: Blood mentioned, mentions and allusion to past sexual assault, sleazy comments (not said by any of the guys), violence. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is! Part one of what was only supposed to be one chapter. I almost debated splitting it into three parts given how much I still need to write for the next part, but I think two separate chapters instead of one should be fine. Anyways, I just wanted to get this out for you guys since I know you’ve all been waiting so patiently. The next part should be out tomorrow. I was going to do my best to have it all finished b tonight, but I have a really bad headache and feel like I'm ready to pass out soon. So, anyways, I still think you’ll enjoy what this chapter has in store, and I hope it makes you eager for the next chapter as well. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Mini Masterlist

The next day, you end up sleeping in later than usual. When you do wake, you feel slightly more groggy than normal, movements sluggish as you pull yourself out of bed. Heading towards the bathroom, you freshen yourself up a bit before trudging out of your room and down the hall.

Blinking a few times, you bring a hand up to rub at your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips. Though, as soon as you reach the main foyer and your gaze refocusses, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“What the fuck!” Your voice ringing out, loud and clear, echoes throughout the room.

In an instant, all eight men are surrounding you, worry on all of their features. You can tell some of them seemingly also had a late start to their day, toothbrushes hanging out of both Jongho’s and San’s mouths, while Wooyoung still looks like he’s in his pyjamas.

“What? What’s wrong?” Wooyoung takes a step towards you cautiously.

You blink, caught off guard momentarily by his newly skunk dyed hair. Though, from the looks of things, he’s not the only one who’s suddenly changed his hair colour overnight.

Both San and Seonghwa sport pink strands now. Seonghwa’s is more of a pastel shade of pink, contrasting his stark black hair you had become so used to on him. San’s, on the other hand, is a bright hot pink, pushed slightly away from his forehead for the moment with a headband. Even Hongjoong sports an almost electric blue, his locks shorter than they were when you saw him last night.

One thing is for sure, though. They all look good.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, shaking your head to clear your thoughts in the next second. Then, you’re motion to the ground before your feet. “Why are there drops of blood everywhere? Are you guys okay?”

This time, it’s their turn to blink at you. Their mild jealous anger that still lingers from last night almost dissipating completely as they hear the concern clear in your voice. Truly, you have no idea what this means to them - for you to worry about them like this. Warmth floods their chests as soft smiles paint their features.

“What happened?” You continue to scan your gaze over the area, seemingly paying no mind to how fond they’re looking at you so suddenly. “Is this why you guys were so late getting back last night?” Then, as if realizing something, you practically freeze in your spot. “When did you guys get back last night?”

“The council meeting took us longer than we thought it would,” Yunho is the first to respond.

“Did something happen?” Your brow is furrowed as you look towards him, and Yunho cannot deny the way that his heart races in his chest at having your concerned filled gaze be directed entirely at him.

“You could say that.” Seonghwa sighs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

It’s then that you shift your gaze to him, his spine straightening slightly beneath that same look on your features now being projected towards him.

“I repeat,” you glance around at all of them, “are you all okay?”

“We’re all fine,” Yeosang assures you with a soft smile painting his features.

“Never better,” Jongho pulls the toothbrush out of his mouth long enough to respond.

“Then why-“

“It’s not our blood.” Hongjoong cuts you off, and immediately you’re locking eyes with him.

“Oh, thank fuck.” The relieved sigh that escapes you is probably much louder than you intend, but at this point, you don’t care. Then, it’s as if his words finally sink in. “Wait, what?”

“We had some business to attend to after the council had finished for the evening.” Mingi informs you.

Realization crosses your features as you nod once, “I see.”

“Believe me, the other guys look worse,” Wooyoung jokes.

“I should hope so,” you snort, surprising even yourself by how unafraid you are in this moment. “Someone challenge your rule or something?”

“You have no idea,” finally, San speaks, holding his own toothbrush inches away from his mouth as he sighs.

“Okay,” your eyebrows raise, slightly amused. “Remind me not to cross you guys at any point in time.”

“My Love, you know we would never hurt you.” Hongjoong’s brow furrows slightly. Even if he knows you’re saying it partially as a joke, he cannot help but worry that you’re not taking that particular vow of theirs seriously.

“I know.” You hum, and they all look taken aback by your admission as your eyes roam over the dried droplets of blood on the floor once more. “I believe you.”

Really, you have no idea how much those words mean to them. Especially right now, as you say them in such a casual tone. Almost like a second thought.

First, you show clear worry for them. Now, you’re admitting to trusting them? Well, there is simply no greater feeling in the world. Despite what they believe to be a huge setback based on the events of last night, perhaps they’ve made more progress with you than they originally thought. Maybe they should leave you by yourself more often, especially if you act like this the very next day.

Still, they’d prefer not coming back to the same events as last night ever again.

“What time did you get back last night, anyways?” You turn back to look at them, failing to notice the way they all seem to stiffen the slightest bit at your inquiry.

San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi all have to suppress the growls that want to build in their chests as they recall the incident they stumbled home upon last night. Though, the other four aren’t doing much better. They’re just able to hide it well.

“Sometime after one, probably,” Yeosang is quick to break the building silence between all of you.

“Ah, I see,” you nod. If you recall correctly, you passed out just shortly before then.

A tense twitch upwards of your lips. You cut it real close then, last night. Thank fuck they got home later, just like you thought they would.

“We apologize if we worried you,” Yunho adds, and they all watch your reaction carefully.

“No, no,” you wave him off, a slight heat rising to your cheeks as you think back to how you were feeling while getting ready for bed last night. You fail to see the way his own lips twitch upwards in response, brow quirking ever so slightly. “Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting you guys to be gone for so long, is all.”

“We won’t ever make you wait that long for us again.” It’s Seonghwa who says this, meeting your gaze with an intense sincerity shining within his own that you’ve not quite seen from him before.

Besides, if they had gotten home sooner, maybe then one of them could have helped you out, in more ways than one.

“It’s fine,” you chuckle, leaning back on the desk behind you where you notice one of their hats to be sitting. “Really.”

“We don’t necessarily enjoy leaving you by yourself for long periods of time.” Hongjoong voices, and you notice the way he seems to swallow, his throat bobbing with the movement.

“Oh, believe me,” you let out an amused huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “I noticed. Though, I have to admit, it was nice not having to worry about you guys reading my thoughts all the time.”

Something within their eyes flash, and this time, San and Mingi cannot suppress their growls. Besides, it has been a bit more difficult to read your thoughts lately thanks to that damn void you constantly think of now. You fail to see the way the two eldest shoot a side eyed glance in Yunho’s direction.

Your eyebrows raise dramatically, “is something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Jongho replies, a tight smile tugging at his lips.

“Right,” you drawl out the word, brow quirked as you look around at all of them once more. “Anyways, since you’re all here, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything,” Yeosang breathes out almost immediately, taking a small step towards you somewhat eagerly.

“I would like to go to the mall.”

They all blink at you in response, slightly caught off guard by your admission.

“Why?” There’s no malice in Wooyoung’s voice, only genuine curiosity.

“As much as I enjoy spending time in this house, I could use some human interaction.” You reply. “Plus, I need to get a few things for myself while we’re out.”

“Just tell us what you need and we’ll get it for you.” San’s response is immediate, him blinking at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

The retort you originally had been going to say dies in your throat as you think of something much better. An idea which has your lips twitching upwards in the corner as your brow quirks at all of them.

“So, you don’t want to spend the day out with me?” The smirk that pulls onto your features is deadly, and from the way they all stiffen, you know you’ve got them right where you want them. You begin to push yourself off of the desk you’re leaning against, “I understand if you’re all busy-“

In the blink of an eye, Jongho disappears, and then reappears, looking slightly more put together. His toothbrush is no longer held in his hand, and his hair is now brushed. He takes a step towards you, “let’s go.”

“Woah, hold on a second,” you chuckle, raising your one hand in a ‘wait’ gesture. “I need to change first.”

“We’ll go as soon as you’re ready, then.” It’s Hongjoong who answers you, already sitting on one of the couches in the foyer seeing as he’s already dressed for the day.

“Great!” You smile, excitedly scurrying back down the hallway and to your room. Then, from over your shoulder, you call, “give me half an hour!”

You’re so eager to get out of the house that it really only takes you twenty minutes to change and finish getting ready for the day. There’s a small spring to your step as you traverse back down the hallway, your purse slung over your shoulder as it practically bounces off of your side with every move you make.

Stepping back into the foyer, you notice that the blood has seemingly been cleaned up since you left to get ready. The hat that was previously on the desk is missing, too.

“Alright,” you cross your arms expectantly over your chest, a smile on your face as all eight of them turn towards you, “let’s go.”

“What mall do you want to go to?” Mingi asks, already making his way over to stand beside you before any one of his brothers can.

“Uh,” you blink, “honestly, I didn’t think I would get this far…” you trail off, before your eyebrow quirks playfully. “The one I used to work at should be fine.”

A few ‘okay’s and ‘alright’s echo around the room as Mingi moves to place his hand onto the small of your back. However, before he does so, he looks to you for confirmation. A fact which makes you blink slightly in shock, the simple act warming your heart more than you expect it to.

As soon as he gets a nod from you, your lips pulling into a soft smile, his hand is on your back. In the blink of an eye, he’s transported you outside one of the lesser known employee entrances, his brothers appearing right beside you.

You take a step forward, “gosh, this brings back memories.”

“Yeah?” San quirks a brow as he opens the side door for you.

“Yeah,” you nod in thanks as you walk past, the others following close behind. “On break, my coworkers and I would always hide out here during the holiday season so we wouldn’t get bothered by angry shoppers. I can’t count the amount of times people would try and stop us in the hallways, asking us about products from other stores which we didn’t work at, only to get mad at us when we told them that.”

“That’s stupid,” Yeosang’s brow furrows into a frown.

“You’re telling me,” you roll your eyes, leading them through the back hallways until you’re reaching the doors that will actually lead you into the main section of the mall. “Honestly, working retail is hell.”

“Now, that I can believe,” Wooyoung nods, hopping forwards to open the next door that appears just as you go to reach for it.

“Now I know why you weren’t that afraid at first when your friend summoned us,” Yunho jokes as you all step into the main hallway.

“Probably,” you snort, nodding slightly as your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “Retail workers are braver than anybody I know. The shit we have to put up with is remarkable.”

“I bet,” Mingi grins, along with his brothers. Really, they’re all more than ecstatic that you’re opening up to them like this.

“Where to first?” Seonghwa steps up beside you on your left as your head scans the hallway.

In an instant, your eyes are lighting up, lips parting slightly as your jaw drops. Your one hand comes up to tap excitedly at Jongho’s arm, who stands beside you to your right.

“Look!” You motion with your head as a large smile paints your features, already grabbing his hand in yours to drag him towards the bookstore a little ways down the hall. “The new book is out!”

The others can only blink in shock as Jongho turns to shoot them a smug grin as you lead him across the way and down to the bookstore. Immediately, the others are following close behind, San and Wooyoung grumbling in their minds about wanting you to drag them around with you next. Even Mingi cannot hide the pout that pulls onto his features at the way you so animatedly talk to Jongho for the moment about this new book.

“The cover is even more beautiful that I thought it would be,” you say, picking it up to run your fingers over the detailing of the design. You open the front cover, eyes catching on what’s printed there before turning it around to show Jongho. “And it’s a special edition!”

You begin to ramble as you walk into the store beside him, the other seven following close behind like lost puppies. Each so desperately wants to be able to share in this moment with you, and they do, in their own ways, but it’s not the same. At least Jongho knows what you’re talking about as you begin discussing the events in the past book, and your predictions for this new one.

Jealous wouldn’t even begin to describe them right now, and they’ve only just gotten here.

Then, as if you’ve read their minds, you’re turning to the seven of them. “I am so sorry for the person I become when I enter a bookstore.”

“My Love, there is no reason to apologize for who you are,” Hongjoong is the first to respond, a soft smile gracing his features.

Despite the jealous pit burning within him once more, it still warms his heart to see you so passionate about something. The way your eyes shine as you quickly glance around the store only makes him fall even harder for you in this very moment. A fact which he knows all of his brothers are revelling in, too.

You smile softly, almost bashfully, as you avert your gaze. “Anyways, I’m probably going to be, like, an hour or so in here. So, you guys don’t need to hover around me the whole time.”

They all quirk a brow, save for Jongho who still stands right beside you.

“Let me rephrase that,” you begin. “Please don’t hover. I’ll feel crowded and rushed. I’ll be with Jongho, anyways, so you don’t need to worry.”

Before any of them can respond, Jongho is grabbing your hand in his once more, that same smug smirk tugging at his lips. “You heard her.”

This time, it’s him that drags you away from the others, leading you to the second story of the store to start there before any of them can protest.

You little shit. Yunho blinks in disbelief, gaze locked on Jongho’s back as he watches the two of you head up the escalators.

What can I say? He turns to shoot a pointed look down at the seven of them who have yet to move from their spots. You snooze, you lose.

Remind me to rip his head off later. San grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Hey! Jongho whines. That’s not very nice!

Neither is stealing our love away to spend some alone time together when we’re supposed to all be spending the day with her. Yeosang retorts, casually looking over the table beside him which houses some books on music that catch his interest.

Whether we like it or not, this is something that we’ll have to get used to. Hongjoong adds, walking over to a display with a bunch of horror novels on it.

We’ll all have our moment, soon enough. Mingi is hopeful, saying this more to reassure himself than anything.

Yeah, well, I just wish it was sooner, rather than later. Seonghwa grumbles.

We all do, Wooyoung responds, heading over to the escalators with San to follow you and Jongho upstairs. Let’s just take it one step at a time.

That’s rich, coming from you. Yunho nearly snorts as he begins to browse the lower level, finding a section on art fairly quickly and smiling as he takes in all of the different books.

Hey! This time it’s Wooyoung who whines. At least I’m not the most impatient.

You’re definitely up there. Yeosang smirks, grabbing a book off of the table to flip through it briefly.

Let’s just enjoy today while we can, yeah? San voices, heading over to the cookbooks with Wooyoung in tow.

Considering the night we had, I’m living for the fact that she actually wanted to spend some time with us today. Seonghwa is the next to head over to the escalators, eyes scanning the entirety of the store and taking it all in as he heads upstairs.

Exactly. Mingi practically sighs in bliss. San’s right. Let’s enjoy it while we can.

Have you guys noticed she seems much more chipper today? Jongho comments. Like, more open and accepting towards us?

The fact that she was clearly worried about us when she saw the blood on the floor makes me wonder, too. Yunho hums, somewhat knowingly.

You know, I hate to say it, Wooyoung begins, somewhat exasperatedly, but that’s what a good orgasm can do. Especially when you’re frustrated.

Were it not for the fact that they’re all in public, the snarls that build in their throats would have long since been vocalized.

Let’s just make sure that the next time she needs some relief, she comes to one of us, then. Seonghwa’s voice is firm, the others immediately agreeing right along with him.

How about we not put a damper on today? Hongjoong sighs, placing the horror novel that he was looking at back onto the display before picking up another one. I don’t like it anymore than all of you do, but what’s passed has passed. We’re not going to change it now. Seonghwa is right, let’s just make sure she calls for one of us if something like that were to happen again. I don’t want our sour moods from last night to affect what could be the start of a beautiful day out with our love.

A chorus of agreements come from every single one of them as they all continue to browse the store.

Still sucks, though. San grumbles. Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Mingi all mumbling their agreement soon after.

Though, what truly gets them to shut up is a mental image projected into all of their minds a moment later, curtesy of Jongho. You seem to be standing in front of the Manga section, a large smile on your face as you turn to look at him from over your shoulder. Either you or him have just said something funny, for you’re letting out the most melodic laugh that they’ve ever heard in their entire lives in the next second.

They all go quiet, hearts warming at this small intimacy shared between all of them. Hell, San, Yunho, and Seonghwa nearly all drop the books that they had been holding at the time when the image first appeared in their minds.

Thank you, Jongho. It’s Yeosang who breaks the silence between all of them first. I really needed that right now.

I think we all did. Mingi’s reply is soft, lips tugging upwards gently as he blinks a few times to clear away the sudden tears that spring to his eyes from the intimacy of this shared memory.

I knew you’d all appreciate that as much as I did. There’s a smile in Jongho’s reply. They can hear it reflected in the fondness echoing throughout their heads as they’re sure he’s still watching you with that same lovestruck expression on his face that they know is mirrored on all of their own.

Sure enough, his gaze is loving as he watches you turn to face him once more, adjusting the strap of your purse over your one shoulder.

You grin, “this is why I keep a list of volumes I still need to collect on my phone.”

In an instant, you’re pulling out said object, unlocking it and opening the notes application. Scrolling through, you start at the beginning, taking your time to look through all of the titles to see if this bookstore has any of the volumes that you’re missing. It’s been a while since you’ve added to your collection, anyways.

Taking a step forwards, Jongho casually leans in to peer around your shoulder. Sure, he’s been close to you in the past, but not like this. A fact which just makes a hum of content build in his chest, especially since he can practically feel your body heat radiating against his own.

You don’t seem to be uncomfortable, save for the slight way you stiffen at first when he gets in close, but he chalks that up to you simply being surprised by his sudden proximity. In fact, if Jongho didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re practically melting into him right now, as if you’re eager to lean into his grip, and he’s not even touching you yet.

That’s when he steps closer, practically pressing himself into your back as his hands find purchase on your waist. The best part is, you let him.

“What ones are you missing?” He asks, voice low right by your ear and sending a shiver down your spine involuntarily. A fact in which he notices, causing a subtle smirk to pull at his lips.

“Uh,” you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat as you scroll to the bottom of the list, “if you want to look for these ones,” you motion to the five bottom titles that appear on the screen vaguely with your thumb, “that would be great.”

“Of course, Darling,” his breath ghosts against the skin of your neck, causing a pleasant shiver to trail down your spine.

Then, just as quickly as the moment comes, it passes. In the blink of an eye, Jongho is already down by the opposite end of the shelves, crouching down to begin looking for the volumes of manga you just told him about.

You swallow once more, turning your attention to the shelves in front of you. Though, now, you find you can hardly focus on the titles, too caught up in the way his hands felt against your body. The ghost of his breath, and touch, still warms your skin.

Little do you know of the smirk that still tugs at the corner of his lips. He can feel you gazing at him out of the corner of your eyes. Fleeting glances as if you don’t want to be caught staring. Yet, Jongho doesn’t mind. In fact, he revels in your gaze. So much so, that he cannot help but take a knee. Leaning into the shelf a bit as if he’s looking at a series you’ve just told him to search for - which he is, in a way - Jongho extends his one leg out slightly, opposite knee raised in the air as he purposely flexes the muscle of his thigh.

The way he can hear your breath hitch in your throat has a pleased rumble building in his chest. He can’t count the amount of times he’s caught you sneaking glances at his body, especially at his thighs. To know that he can have this effect on you, without so much as doing anything, is profound. Truly, there is no greater feeling than knowing that he can affect you as badly as you affect him.

Then, as if he hadn’t just been putting himself on display for you, he reaches out to grab a volume off of the shelf. An innocent smile pulls at his features as he turns to look at you, showcasing the manga in his hand excitedly, “found one!”

Your smile is genuine, if not somewhat embarrassed at the possibility that you’ve just been caught checking him out. “Great!”

Intently, you stare at the shelf in front of you once you turn your attention back to it. At least five minutes must pass by until you’re blinking, finally able to clear your thoughts for the moment as you focus on the task at hand. Ten minutes later, and you’ve pulled five other volumes off of the shelf that you’re missing, Jongho managing to grab three more for you, too.

As soon as you attempt to take the manga from his hands, he’s quirking a brow at you. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to hold my books,” you reply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What’s that?” He grins, teasingly. “You want me to hold all of your books for you? I’d love to.”

In the blink of an eye, he has your entire stack of books in his hands, a bright smile on his face. You have no idea how he managed to do that, given that your stack of books had been securely held in your own hands only moments before.

You blink at him before a huff is escaping your lips, muttering under your breath, “damn demons and their damn powers."

Jongho only chuckles in response, motioning for you to lead on with his head.

Shaking your own, you smile to yourself, leading him on the the next section you usually peruse when you enter a bookshop. Only, when you reach where you remember it being last, it’s suddenly not there anymore.

Your brow furrows slightly, looking around for an employee to help guide you in the right direction.

“You know, if there’s anything that you want to check out, just let me know,” you say casually as you walk back out into one of the main aisles, spotting a worker at one of the kiosks.

“Oh, believe me,” Jongho, again, has to suppress the growl that wants to escape him at the suggestive undertone of your words. Sure, you may not particularly mean them in that way, but he cannot help but to think of all of the ways in which he wants to check you out. Especially after last night. “I will.”

Soon, your voice manages to pull him out of his much too vivid thoughts about pushing you up against one of these shelves and claiming your lips with his own in a passionate kiss while no one’s around.

“Excuse me,” you begin, grabbing the attention of the worker at the kiosk. As soon as they turn around, your eyes are widening right alongside their own, “oh my god, Lainie?"

An excited squeal of your name is all you get in response as she wraps you in a hug. One of which you eagerly return.

“It’s so good to see you!” She says, pulling away to stare into your eyes as she holds you at arms length. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“I know, right?” You grin. “I’m well, just busy. You know, the usual. How are you? How’s the team? I miss them.”

“Oh, I get that,” she nods, dropping her hands as her eyes widen in understanding. “And I’ve been good, just working on some final projects for school. It’s been good here, same old, same old. Customers are good, some are bad.” She shrugs, then she’s smiling softly. “We all miss you, too. You should come visit more often!”

“I’ve been meaning to, I swear,” you reply, eyes briefly glancing over at Jongho who stands a little ways off to the side, making himself look busy by browsing through the books on display in front of him. “I promise I’ll try and stop by more often.”

“You better,” she threatens teasingly, wagging her finger at you. “We still have to hang out sometime, remember?”

“Of course!” You smile, nodding your head. “Is anyone else from the team in today that I know?”

“Ops was in earlier, but they all left already, unfortunately.” She tells you.

“Damn, I was hoping to say ‘hi’,” you sigh. “Next time, then.”

“Actually, unfortunately, I think Henry is still in,” she grimaces, and you both share a look. “So, be careful.”

“Who’s Henry?” Of course it would be now that Jongho decides it best to insert himself into the conversation.

“Oh, who’s this?” Lainie begins to look between Jongho and you with a quirked eyebrow, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“He’s not-“

“Pleasure to meet you, Lainie,” Jongho smiles, turning on the charm as he extends a hand out for her to shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Of course Jongho would take every and any opportunity he can get to make people think he’s your significant other. It’s only been one of his greatest desires since he first saw you all those months ago. He’s not about to let you deny him that simple pleasure, especially not after the events of last night. Even if you turn to shoot him a pointed look from beside him as a result, nudging him slightly with your elbow subtly.

So far, he likes Lainie, hearing no malcontent in her thoughts towards you. Plus, you have talked about her a few times briefly in passing when you mention books you’ve been recommended in the past. In fact, he can tell just how much you adore each other as friends, even without hearing her thoughts projecting themselves shamelessly throughout the room. That’s why he didn’t bother interrupting until now. Both of your reactions, not to mention her own thoughts when she said this other male’s name, nearly had a scowl pulling at his lips.

“Oh, have you now?” She shoots you another knowing look as she shakes his hand, a giggle on her lips. It’s then that she sees your stack of books held in his opposite arm. “I see you’ve found yourself a gentleman.” At the topmost book she sees laying on the pile, of which he must have just added, she grins widely at you. “A gentleman who likes to read.”

“Lainie,” you shoot her a look, tight smile on your features as you can practically feel Jongho revelling in her praise.

It may be small, but knowing he’s gotten one of your friend’s approval means more to him than you’ll ever know. Which is exactly why when he did a brief examination of her thoughts, he grabbed her favourite book off of the shelf to seek that acceptance, especially if it meant her saying something in front of you. If others can see how good he is for you, then it’s only a matter of time before you do as well.

Little do you know of the three sets of ears on the same floor eavesdropping from around a few shelves, scowls resting on their faces as they can hear Jongho’s smug thoughts echoing Lainie’s compliments. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose to torture them, San and Wooyoung no longer focussing on the cookbooks in front of them as they share a brief look between each other. Even Seonghwa, who had been browsing through the romance section, nearly tears the novel in his hands to shreds.

The youngest is really pushing his luck right now, but at least there’s one thing that they can all agree on. None of them like this Henry guy, and they don’t even know what he looks like yet.

Only, before Jongho can bring up the point again, you’re cutting him off.

“Hey, where did we move fantasy to? It’s not where it usually is.” You say, drawing her attention back to you once more.

“Oh, follow me!” She immediately starts leading you to the opposite side of the store on the same level. “Yeah, we just moved sci-fi and fantasy the other week. Confused the shit out of our regulars.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle, noticing how Jongho remains silent for the moment.

“Anyways, here you go,” she motions down one of the last aisles of the floor. “I don’t want to keep you guys for too long, and I should probably get back to actually doing my job. If you need anything else, you know where to find me!”

“Thanks, Lainie,” you smile at her, waving after her as she walks off. “Will do.”

As soon as you see her disappear, you’re heading into the fantasy section. Only, you barely make it two steps in when Jongho is rounding on you, a fire lighting behind his eyes as he watches you carefully.

“Who’s Henry?” His voice is stern, but for some reason, you have a feeling it’s more out of concern for you than anything else.

You spare a brief glance in Jongho’s direction before you let out a sigh, “not a coworker I enjoy talking about.”

From the way he takes a small step towards you, you know that he’s begging to ask you why, but from the way he hesitates, you know that he’s doing his best to respect your boundaries and not pry. A fact which warms your heart for the moment, comforting you even if only slightly.

The last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable, for this topic already seems to be making you tense. A fact in which drives him insane knowing that there’s nothing he can do to alleviate your distress for the moment.

“I’ll tell you later,” you shoot him a tight smile. “For now, let’s just leave it at the fact that he makes me, and a lot of my other female presenting friends and coworkers, uncomfortable.”

“He’s one of those guys.” Jongho’s eyes widen in acknowledgement, the disgust clear in his tone.

“Thinks he can get away with anything just because he’s the boss’ son.” You spit, somewhat harshly, turning back to the shelves in front of you.

This time, Jongho doesn’t suppress the low growl that builds in his throat, eyes dark as he attempts to put a leash on his anger for the moment. Slowly, he puts the stack of your books in his hands down on one of the shelves beside him. It’s taking everything in him right now not to hunt this fucker down in the store right now and make him pay for everything he’s done to both you, and to others that you care about.

“Has he-“ Jongho practically snarls, lips curling over bared teeth at the mere thought of this bastard hurting you in any way. “Has he-“

You blink, sparing him a glance out of the corner of your eyes. “He’s tried, but so far, I’ve been lucky. He’s just really touchy with me. Makes comments, too.”

Jongho doesn’t even need to ask, he can tell just from your body language the types of advances this slug has made on you. He growls lowly once more, echoed by another, one aisle over.

Your eyebrows raise ever so slightly, “honestly, if I can’t tell you guys apart by snarls alone in a few month’s time, it’ll be a miracle.”

Within the next moment, Seonghwa is rounding the corner, a stack of five books held in his own hands.

“It’s a miracle we don’t tear this bastard apart for what he’s done to you.” He keeps his voice low, a scowl pulling at his features as he comes to stand beside Jongho.

Your eyes go wide, “okay, maybe don’t do that.”

“Believe me, it’s not the worst thing we’re thinking about doing to him.” Jongho briefly meets Seonghwa’s gaze, their eyes flashing beneath the artificial lights of the shop.

“I don’t think tearing him apart, or whatever you’re thinking of doing, in the middle of the store is going to be as effective as you think,” you smile tightly, a slight nervousness to your voice.

A moment of silence passes between you.

“Wooyoung’s complaining you won’t let him at least rip one of his arms off.” Seonghwa states casually, as if it’s the most normal conversation ever.

“Shhh,” your eyes go wide, “keep your voice down!”

Carefully, you look side to side, worried you might be overheard by other customers in the general area.

“Is that why you look like a deer in headlights right now?” Jongho chuckles. “Cause you’re worried about someone overhearing us?”

Your lips purse into a tight line, eyes darting between the two males standing across from you. “Perhaps.”

“Don’t worry, Darling,” Jongho smirks, “there’s no one around to overhear this conversation right now. Well, other than us, of course.”

You shake your head, turning back to the books in front of you and scanning over the titles briefly. “Damn demons and their damn powers.”

Jongho chuckles, recognizing your words from earlier.

“Have you all been eavesdropping this whole time?” You turn to shoot a pointed look at Seonghwa, knowing the other six can hear you right now as well.

“No!” Seonghwa is quick to respond, brow furrowing as he shakes his head.

Jongho nearly scoffs, hearing a resounding ’yes’ come from his other brothers scattered throughout the store.

Even you don’t look convinced as you hum to yourself, turning back to the shelf in front of you only to pull two novels off of it in the next second.

“Wooyoung still wants to know if the dismemberment is completely off of the table.” Seonghwa says casually, browsing the shelf to his left and no longer even looking at you.

You hesitate for a moment, lips parting as a small ‘uh’ escapes you.

That’s when Jongho’s eyes are widening ever so slightly in amusement as realization crosses his features. “You’ve thought about it before.”

She’s picturing it right now. Yunho’s voice in all of their heads nearly has a pleased groan escaping all of them. Though, none are as affected as Hongjoong, who suddenly has to support himself using one hand on the table that he had been perusing.

A brief moment of silence passes between the three of you as you place the two books in your hand beside the stack you already have going.

“Perhaps.” You shrug. “Though, it’s a little too bloody considering all of the books around here. It’d be a shame to damage such beautiful products with such a vile man’s blood.”

Where the hell is this coming from? San’s voice resounds, almost eagerly, in all of their heads.

Are you really complaining? Mingi quirks a brow as he browses a table full of mystery books, even though he knows none of them can see him right now.

Seems as if our love isn’t as innocent as we thought. Yeosang hums, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine as both he and Yunho lock eyes from across the store, smirks pulling onto their features.

“What would you have us do?” Seonghwa breathlessly replies as he places his own stack of books onto a shelf to his left. His gaze is desperate, pleading with you to see how ready and willing he is - how eager they all are - to serve you. Anything and everything you may want them to do right now, they would. No questions asked.

“Woah,” you raise a hand as if to say ‘slow down’, “I may have thought about it, but it doesn’t mean I actually want something bad to happen. I still have my own morals to consider-“

Suddenly, the sound of your name being called out from the opposite end of the aisle is drawing your attention. You freeze immediately, heart thundering in your chest as you turn around stiffly.

He snuck up on you. Probably came from one of the backrooms nearby.

“Henry,” you force a smile to your face as the two males behind you stiffen. “Hey.”

Immediately, you take a step backwards as said male approaches you with an overtly friendly smile on his face. Both Seonghwa and Jongho step forward, flanking you on either side as they stare down the sleazy male approaching you with open arms.

“What? No hug for an old friend?” He pouts as he stands directly across from you, a little too close for comfort.

Jongho’s free arm is around your lower back in a second, pulling you into him protectively. Likewise, the eldest takes another step in closer to you, his one arm slightly reaching out in front of you for added protection. Snarls nearly tug at both Jongho’s and Seonghwa’s lips as they feel Henry give them each a once over. His thoughts aren’t faring much better, either, only causing each demon’s anger to grow the longer you are kept in this situation.

“We were never friends.” You blink at him, and you can see how taken aback he is by your words. Hell, if it weren’t for both males standing protectively around you, you don’t think you would have had the courage to say such a thing to the man across from you.

“Oh, come on,” Henry huffs, a roll to his eyes. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart.”

Both males beside you can feel how physically repulsed you are when he says this, growls threatening to fall from their lips as they glare at the slug across from them. They want nothing more than to tear into this bastard’s flesh, ripping him limb from limb for even thinking he ever stood a chance with you. The fact that Henry has deluded himself into believing his advances were reciprocated disgusts them.

To say that they’re all furious would be a severe understatement.

Fuck it. Your voice resounding through their heads - all eight of them - as you drop your void for the moment, has each one of their hearts skipping a beat in their chests. If he so much as tries anything… they hang on to your every word with bated breath. Break his hands.

If Wooyoung could roar in happiness, he would do so this very instant. Instead, he begins to calmly make his way over to the section that you’re in, San following close behind with that same look of deadly calm on his own features. However, it’s Hongjoong that cannot suppress the maniacal grin that stretches across his lips as he focusses almost too intently on the summary of the book held in his hand.

“Don’t call me that.” Your tone is harsh, all forced sense of social etiquette disappearing from your features immediately.

“You never had an issue with it before,” he retorts with a huff. “Sweetheart.”

The disgust is clear on your features, fury bubbling beneath your skin and rolling through you like waves. The scowl that pulls at your features is dark enough to mirror both Seonghwa’s and Jongho’s own, leaning further into the younger male for support as his grip tightens around your waist.

“What’s with that sour look on your face?” Henry scoffs, quirking a brow. “I thought I told you that you’d be prettier if you smiled more.”

“Watch your fucking tongue, mortal.”

It takes Seonghwa all the strength he has in him not to lunge at the man standing directly across from him in that very moment. Nobody talks to his Queen like that and gets away with it. A sentiment that he knows is shared by all of his brothers, especially when he sees both San and Wooyoung round the opposite corner of the aisle, black eyes on full display. Each male’s teeth are bared in a growl, hands visibly shaking as they all attempt to put a leash on their anger for your sake.

The last thing that any of them want to do is scare you away. Especially not after all the progress they’ve been making with you in the past few weeks alone. Besides, you’ve essentially asked them all to control themselves for the moment, and that’s exactly what they’re going to do. For you.

Downstairs, the four remaining demons immediately head towards the escalators, making their way upstairs as calmly as they can. Though, internally, there are storms raging within each one of them.

Jongho can feel you beginning to tremble from anger in his arms, and as soon as you place a hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, he can feel it, too. Though, he doesn’t know if it’s more for you or for him at this point, but it helps to calm him, even if only the slightest bit.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes only momentarily to steady your nerves. Then, your entire body goes still as you exhale slowly through your nose.

Your eyes snap open, a harsh glare none of them have ever seen your wear gracing your features. “You’re not even worth my time."

It happens instantaneously. As soon as you go to turn around, Henry is reaching out to stop you. Only, a resounding crunch echoes through your ears as you shift to see Seonghwa harshly crushing Henry’s wrist in his hand, the human male’s fingers twitching as his face pales in horror.

Tears line Henry’s vision as his mouth falls open in a silent scream, as if his voice has suddenly been stolen away from him. Which it has.

“If you ever lay a single finger on My Divine again,” Seonghwa’s voice is low, ominous like the threat of an approaching storm as his eyes flash black, “I’ll destroy you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, blinking a few times in shock at the sudden turn of events. Sure, you may have given them permission to do so, but you didn’t actually think anything would happen. Then again, you shouldn’t really be surprised at this point. They have stated time and time again that they would do anything for you.

Still, you do not want to admit to yourself the way your heart simply fluttered at the fact that he not only listened to you, but defended you without a second thought. You also don’t want to admit how insanely attractive you just found that to be. Maybe having them protect you isn’t such a bad thing, after all.

The longer Seonghwa stands crushing Henry’s wrist in his hand, the more tears spring to Henry’s eyes. His mouth parts like a fish out of water, words stolen from him like he’s under some type of spell. That’s when you realize, he probably is.

Then, an insurmountable amount of rage burns behind Henry’s eyes, going to take a swing at Seonghwa with his free arm. Only, before he can so much as pull his fist back, two resounding cracks echo through the space before you.

Another silent scream tears from Henry’s throat as he is forced to his knees. Both Wooyoung and San now each hold one of his arms behind his back, his shoulders clearly broken and dislocated.

You don’t even need to turn to look at Jongho to know that his eyes are as black as each of his brother’s right now, his arm still securely wrapped around your waist.

“You’re fucking lucky we don’t kill you right now, you slug,” Wooyoung hisses into Henry’s ear, pulling harshly at his arm and causing a few more pops to be heard.

There’s something about the way you see pure, unaltered fear flash in Henry’s eyes that excites you in this moment. Finally, he is feeling an ounce of what you, and his other victims much unluckier than you, have felt whenever he’s in the same vicinity.

It is then that the other four round the corner behind you, stepping up to assess the situation. Smirks already adorn each of their features, eyes flashing black as they stare down at the man on his knees before them. Ideas swirl within their minds already about how they’re each going to torture him after this, each more creative than the last.

Only, your void dropping once more to let them all in to your thoughts have them pausing briefly in their movements.

Uh, won’t someone notice what’s going on? Your voice is full of worry, eyes flitting to the opposite end of the row of shelves where one of the openings reside.

Yeosang steps up beside you, a reassuring smile on his features as he shakes his head ‘no’.

What do you mean, ‘no’? Your brow furrows, looking between all of them that you can see for the moment as you are still held firm in Jongho’s grip.

We can alter people’s consciousness to avoid certain places for a while if we want. Mingi explains to you, stepping up beside Yeosang to your left.

What about the cameras? You look between them, worry clear on your features now.

Already taken care of. San draws your attention to him as the corner of his lips tug upwards in a smirk.

What? How? You head tilts ever so slightly in curiosity.

It’s almost second nature for us to mess with the frequencies nowadays. Mingi shrugs casually, a soft grin on his lips as he sees your eyes widen in wonder.

A moment of silence settles over you all as you let their words sink in. Then, an idea is springing into your mind.

Question. You blink, and they all turn to look at you with much softer gazes as they feel that familiar curiosity swirling within you once more after going so long without it. Can you ‘alter people’s consciousness’ full stop?

There’s not a hint of fear in your own mind as you ask. A fact which warms their hearts more than you’ll ever know. Then again, perhaps you’re not thinking about whether they have ever done it to you yet, or not. Not that they ever would.

Consciousness, emotions, memories, reality: you name it. Yunho tells you, and they watch as you nod along subtly to his words before your eyes are going wide. The mind is a fickle thing.

Geez, you let out a huff through your nose, is there anything you guys can’t do?

Well, I can’t cook. Mingi supplies, an almost sheepish shrug to his shoulder.

The statement catches you so off guard that you let out a small snort of laughter.

Sorry, sorry, you raise a hand to wave it slightly in front of you in an apologetic motion. I just wasn’t expecting that given the situation right now.

Mingi shares a grin with you, happy to know that he could at least make you laugh even during such a tense moment as this one.

You are taking this surprisingly well. Hongjoong comments, stepping around the others to stand beside Seonghwa who leans against one of the shelves with his arms crossed in front of his chest, still glaring at Henry before him.

Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are right now. You reply, honestly. Maybe it’s because I feel safe when I’m with you guys. You shrug casually, unaware of how much your meaningful words affect them in this very moment in time. Though, it’s more than likely because I feel no remorse for this fucker. Like, at all.

At that, you all turn to look at the man practically pleading with you using just his eyes. Disgust washes over you, and all eight men are privy to your thoughts of gouging Henry’s eyes out just to make him stop staring at you like that.

Little do you know of the way that your thoughts affect each and every single one of them. Though, none are as affected as Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa are at the moment, pleased rumbles building in their chests as they allow your thoughts to echo shamelessly through their minds. Even San cannot help but to tighten his grip subconsciously around Henry’s arm in response, a pleasant shiver running down his spine.

Anyways, your voice draws their attention back to you once more, I know this is asking a lot, but killing him would be too easy. The reason I wanted to know that particular detail of your powers - which, I’ll admit, is terrifyingly cool, by the way - (they all smile at that, a smugness washing over them at the fact that they could impress you like this right now), is because I have an idea.

Anything. Yeosang repeats his word from earlier that day, all of their eyes shining as they wait with bated breath for your next words.

What would you have us do? San repeats Seonghwa’s words from only minutes earlier, meeting your gaze from across the way as eagerness shines in his dark irises. Anticipation claws at his chest, a feeling of which he knows is shared by all of his brothers right now.

Slowly, you take a step forward and out of Jongho’s arms in order to crouch down in front of Henry who looks at you with pleading eyes. The silence stretching on around him must be eating him alive right now, the unknown terror of what’s going to happen to him next clear in his eyes.

Your own gaze is blank as you tilt your head at him, almost mockingly, blinking once as you rest your elbows on your bent knees. Then, you smile. A malicious quirk of your lips upwards as you stare the man before you down.

“You’re never going to know peace again.” Your words are directed right at Henry, who whimpers as both San and Wooyoung tug at his broken arms once more to keep him from looking away. “You will constantly live in fear of something creeping in the shadows, hiding around every corner and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike you down every chance it gets. You will constantly have to watch your back, too afraid of the dark and what solitude can bring. You will know the terror every single one of us feels when walking alone at night, always feeling like someone is following you, ready and willing to attack at a moment’s notice.”

A tear trails down his cheek, eyes pleading as his fingers begin to twitch on the hand with his crushed wrist. You catch the movement.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” You hum, mocking sympathy as your lips tug downwards in a fake pout. That is, until you’re smirking once more. “Every time you so much as think of touching another person, you will be reminded of exactly how it felt for both of your shoulders to be broken. You will remember how it felt to feel helpless and terrified of what is coming next, scared for your pathetic excuse of a life. Every time you so much as reach for someone else, you will experience the pain of your wrist shattering beneath your skin, and be reminded that you do not own anyone.”

He begins thrashing in the two male’s grips, drawing more whimpers from his throat as tears flow freely from his eyes. You remain passive, observing him carefully.

He’s begging for mercy, isn’t he? You tilt your head once more to the side, eyes blank as you stare at him.

Embarrassingly so. Hongjoong hums, watching the scene before him with an unbelievably fond gaze as he leans back onto the shelf behind him.

Good. You let out a small puff of air through your nose in amusement.

“You will beg for death until the end, but find no comfort in it. Always, you will cling onto life, not quite knowing how, or why a useless waste of space like you has lasted for this long.” You smile, but it is anything but comforting as shadows fall over your features. “And if I ever see you lay your hands on another person again, if I so much as catch whiff of your disgusting scent, I will not be so kind.”

Another whimper escapes his throat as he meets your piercing gaze.

“Pathetic excuse of a human.” You spit. “You make me sick.”

Growls of approval echo all around you, causing your heart to race in your chest for a reason you don’t quite want to acknowledge just yet.

“Oh, and if you so much as try to tell anyone about anything that has transpired here today, or about your little issues, your voice will fail you as you suddenly cannot find the words to speak.” You add, that malicious smile still tugging at your lips. “I know that will be so difficult for you, since you never seem to know when to shut up, but you will. Whether you want to or not.”

You stand back to your full height, looking down at the man who has brought a countless amount of grief and terror to you, your friends and coworkers, and probably a numerous amount of others as well.

You scowl, words like venom on your tongue. “The shadows are no longer your friends.”

Your final words resonate through the air as you turn your back to him. Bile rises in your throat as you think over everything that has just transpired in the past twenty minutes alone.

Your one hand comes up to cover the lower half of your face as your eyes close. Did you really just do that? Not only that, but why did you enjoy it so much?

Slowly, you lower your one hand back to your side, eyes flashing open once more. I’m done here.

You don’t even bother to meet any of their gazes as you begin to walk past them. The sound of your footsteps echo alongside Henry’s muffled screams as they implement your wishes in his mind. It takes them no more than three seconds to do so, allowing the now unconscious male to slump onto the ground in a pathetic pool of his own tears.

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salty-croissants · 5 months

Note

Could u write a fluff fic where the reader comforts ramon/rayman after a rough night or bad dream :3

I love this kinda scenario and would love to see it in your writing 💗

Thank you for the request !

A comfort scenario for my favorite limbless man ? Yes please :,) ❤️

I really enjoyed writing this , I’m always down to give him some well deserved affection !

Hope these turned out okay !

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

established relationships ;

presence of mild swearing in Ramon’s part and general angst with following fluff

Rayman 🧡

< Oh Rayman … are you seriously that stupid ?

We gave you one job , one simple job , and you managed to mess that up too ? >

< I … I’m sorry … >

Rayman fearfully looked up at the silhouettes of the Directors towering over him …

What did he even do wrong ? He couldn’t bring himself to remember …

He always did a good job , didn’t he ?

his performances were always met with enthusiasm by the public , weren’t they ?

< And to think that we gave you everything you could ever want , lifting you from the dirt when everyone thought of you as a monster … how ungrateful can you possibly be ? >

< I-I know that -

Just please , tell me what I did wrong , I’m sure I can fix it ! >

There was a moment of silence , before the Directors begun to fade away in the darkness , leaving Rayman completely alone .

< No - wait a second —

Please , PLEASE give me one more chance ! Whatever I did - I won’t do it again , I swear !!

DON’T LEAVE ME HERE !!! >

He tried to run behind them , hoping , praying that he would’ve been able to explain himself , but even though it felt like he was getting farther and farther away from where he was before they were just … gone .

< No … no no no … why is this happening … >

Rayman felt completely lost and abandoned in that moment … but the second he realized a familiar silhouette was approaching his eyes widened and a glimpse of hope appeared in his troubled mind .

< y/n !!

Oh thank god … thank god you’re here ! I’m so happy to see y - >

Then he saw it … the way you were looking at him : the sheer disappointment in your eyes made that little glimpse of hope crumble to dust … but could he really blame you ?

He knew that without his job and his fame he was nothing , so now that the Directors had thrown him out why would someone as wonderful as you want to be with a limbless freak ?

Those thoughts finally caused him to crack , and Rayman took a few steps in your direction to then drop on his knees , the sound of his tears falling on the ground and his helpless sobs filling the endless darkness all around …

< I’m sorry … I-I’m so sorry , y/n … I wasn’t good enough … I know I don’t deserve you , I know I don’t , but please …

P-please don’t leave me … don’t … leave … >

< Ray … ? >

The sound of your voice and the sensation of your hand gently caressing his cheek made Rayman slowly wake up from that terrible dream , and as soon as he saw your face he managed to calm himself down …

< H … hey , y/n …

Sorry , I didn’t mean to wake you … >

, he whispered , smiling at you weakly as an attempt to avoid making you worry about him .

< It’s okay sweetie , you don’t have to apologize , but … >

You stared at your boyfriend with concern while your fingers wiped away a few more of his tears .

< Are you alright ? >

Rayman sighed in response , leaving a kiss on your palm .

< … I’ve been better … >

< Wanna talk about it ? >

< Mm … maybe tomorrow .

You need to get some more rest , and I gotta be ready in time for that interview .

It’s not a big deal anyway … don’t worry about it too much , okay ? >

You weren’t exactly convinced by what he said , but still you nodded , locking him in a tight embrace and giving him a kiss on the nose .

< Okay … sleep well Ray , I love you … >

Those words were exactly what he needed to hear after what he saw , and as Rayman placed his head against your chest he couldn’t help but feel a beautiful peace melting all his fears away …

You were the only person in the world who could make him feel that way .

< Thank you …

I love you too y/n , so , so much … ~ >

Ramon 🖤

The sounds of shots being fired all around him was almost deafening , and as Ramon ran through the battlefield he just couldn’t bring himself to stop :

he needed to get out of there , far away from Eden … he needed to lead the both of you to safety , no matter how many of those assholes he would’ve had to kill .

< Come on y/n , this way !

We’re so close - >

When he turned around it took a few seconds for him to realize the fact that you weren’t behind him anymore …

And his heart sunk .

< y/n … ?

y/n where are you ?? >

Ramon instantly turned back , despite the knowing full well that it was probably a death sentence for him …

He had to find you .

That was all that mattered .

< y/n !! y/n where -

Agh - get off me you bastard —

Y/N !!! >

His voice was barely audible among the chaos … he couldn’t even think straight anymore , just shooting whoever tried to get in his way and moving forward while unsure about where he was going .

… then , he saw your silhouette laying on the ground , and he immediately rushed towards you , a strange mixture of panic and relief overwhelming his every thought .

< y/n - y/n I’m here !

I’m here love , you’re gonna be o … kay … >

When he got a better view of you , Ramon felt as if time around him had just stopped , leaving only him with that terrible vision of your bleeding body :

it looked like you had been shot all over … many , many times , and you didn’t seem to be moving anymore .

< No … no … ! >

His shaky hands held you close to him , as he found himself unable to hold back his tears .

< Oh god please no … not them … n-not them …

y/n , please … please come back … I need you , I-I need you so much … >

The last thing Ramon could do before everything faded to black was just scream , a terrible , devastating despair shattering him from the inside …

What was he even going to do now … ?

He had lost you , his beloved partner , his everything …

Was that … the end ?

Ramon gasped , getting into a sitting position with his heart pounding in his chest , and he immediately turned around to check if you were next to him …

And you were , thankfully :

you had started to wake up when you heard your boyfriend muttering your name in his sleep , and now you were looking up at him with a worried expression , wondering what he had seen .

< Ramon , honey … are you oka - >

He didn’t answer , he just laid back down to hold you in his arms , his breathing still sharp and abnormally fast .

< Please , please don’t … I can’t talk about it now .

I just need to feel you here with me , y/n … that’s … that’s all I need … >

Your gaze softened as you hugged him back , caressing his hair with one hand and feeling his tensed body slowly relax thanks to your loving gestures …

It wasn’t the first time Ramon had a nightmare , his nights were often tormented by visions of Eden finally catching up to the both of you , and while you couldn’t exactly make his fears go away completely you were always able to make him feel better .

< That’s fine … here , try to breathe a bit slower , okay ?

I got you Ram , I’m not going anywhere , I promise . >

He opened his eyes for a brief moment to look at you , before leaning forward to place a small kiss on your lips …

< Thanks …

I … don’t know what I’d do without you , my love . >

#captain laserhawk #x reader #rayman x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #rayman #gender neutral reader

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abiiors · 11 months

Text

Tomorrow

what even is this?? slice of life (pathetic version)?? no plot just vibes??? idk

wc: 950

‘Don’t forget to pack the sunscreen!’ she calls out from the bedroom while Ross trims his beard in front of the bathroom mirror. He hums a distracted reply and continues to carefully run the trimmer along his jawline.

She pokes her head into the bathroom, wondering, most likely, why she didn’t hear him. ‘Sunscreen, love. Don’t forg—’

‘Sunscreen, yes, I heard you,’ he interrupts and goes back to his task at hand. He doesn’t mean to be particularly curt or short with her but he’s just in one of his moods.

She frowns and lingers at the door; hesitating if she should come in or leave him be to sort it out. Secretly, he hopes she would choose the latter. He doesn’t want to accidentally lash out at her and upset her. Especially not today…

Unfortunately, she doesn’t.

‘You alright?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You have everything sorted?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay then,’ she concedes but stays rooted in her spot. If anything she leans against the doorframe and watches him leisurely.

Ross doesn’t speak. He’s worried that it would turn into A Thing if he opened his mouth right now. Instead, he sets the trimmer on the counter. Then he turns the tap on to splash some water on his face and dabs it dry with the towel around his neck; then gets closer to the mirror to look out for any uneven bits. All the while, she watches him curiously and tries to make sense of his mood.

‘You’re hovering, love,’ he chides softly while he passes her out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.

The room is a chaotic mess. His suitcase sits in one corner on the floor; maw wide open and ready to consume his life for the next seven months. His clothes are everywhere, half packed in, half still outside and waiting to be sorted into piles. His soft cashmere sweater sits neatly folded on the bed; he’s undecided on whether he wants to take it or not.

‘Will you tell me what’s wrong?’ she asks, coming up behind him. Her tone is still mild but he senses the note of impatience that has crept in.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he answers on autopilot, then sighs and turns around. She’s wearing his t-shirt and some old leggings, hair loosely held in place with a claw clip. Her mouth is turned downward in a frown, her eyes huge and curious. And Ross loses all his steam. ‘Actually, no,’ he takes two large strides to bridge the gap between them and envelops her in a hug. ‘I…I don’t want to leave tomorrow.’

She relaxes as everything clicks into place. And he marvels at how perfectly she fits into his arms.

‘Oh, my love…’ she strokes his cheek and smiles softly. ‘Let’s forget about packing for now. Let’s just get into bed, okay?’

‘But I have to leav—’

‘Not right now,’ she takes a hold of his hand. ‘We can worry about that tomorrow.’

The fist around his heart loosens slightly as she moves the duvet to get in and motions for him to follow once she has settled. He does; wraps his arms around her and rests his head on her chest.

‘I’m going to miss your tits so much,’ he mumbles, only half joking as he snuggles further.

She giggles at his words and gently starts finger-combing his hair. ‘Only my tits?’

‘No,’ he swallows past the lump in his throat, ‘you, I’m going to miss you.’

‘I know, baby,’ she sighs. For a moment he feels guilty about making her sad. There’s no reason she has to be sulky with him. He’s going to be with his friends, travelling the world while she’s the one who has to come home to an empty house. He knows he still has it so much better. But then she continues.

‘Just think of it as a series of tomorrows. So that way, one day you’ll wake up and realise that tomorrow you get to come home.’

He hums, still unsure, ‘I guess…’

They lie in silence; her playing with his hair and him listening to her steady heartbeat.

‘And you’ll be here when I come back.’ It’s not a question. It’s a statement. Because in his mind, an alternative simply does not exist.

‘And I’ll be here when you come back,’ she confirms and presses a kiss to his head. ‘As always.’

‘I should put you in my suitcase and take you with me,’ he jokes lamely but she still laughs.

‘Like Matty?’

‘Like Matty.’

‘Did he really fit into it?’ she asks, genuinely puzzled this time and a surprised laugh spills out of him.

‘He did, you know? I didn’t think he would, honestly.’

They go on and on, talking until he finally starts to feel at ease and the fist loosens some more. They talk about all the cities he will go to and what she wants from each one of them. As always she begs for sweets and candy from all the different countries. They talk about silly things and important things and how he’s not looking forward to all the long-haul flights and the people crowding at the airport. But they also talk about how excited he is for all the shows and to experience winter in Japan.

‘Speaking of…’ she interrupts, ‘you’re not taking your cashmere sweater?’

‘Mmm,’ he shrugs lightly and looks at the sweater, still folded neatly on the pillow next to him. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

Ross rests his chin on her stomach so he can look at her and give her a sweet smile. ‘I can’t do that to you, love. What if you get cold without me?’

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mr-and-mr-diaz · 3 years

Note

I just. I just thought about Eddie holding baby Jee-Yun? And singing to her while she clutches at his finger with her tiny meaty baby hand??

Maybe Buck freaked out a little because she was being fussy and wouldn't settle, and its probably nothing but hey, who better to call than Eddie, who conveniently has the day off and cuts off Buck's panicked rambling with a soothing;

"Its okay, Buck. Give me ten minutes, okay? You're doing great. She's probably just restless."

Eddie gets there and sends Buck off to cook dinner or shower or take a nap, scooping Jee-Yun out of her travel crib and making sure she's changed, warm, fed and content. And its been so long since Christopher was this tiny, but holding Jee-Yun makes him think back to that tiny, wriggly little bundle in his arms for the first time, back before it all went to shit.

Eddie pacing slowly around the lower loft, singing quietly, tickling her little chin, grinning when she giggles and gurgles at him. And he can see so much of Maddie and Chimney in her already. She's got Maddie's eyes and Chimney's lopsided grin.

(And for a little crack, maybe Buck catches this scene and is so overwhelmed he just blurts out; "put a baby in me!" And Eddie is like; "... What?" 👁👄👁 Which cues a hilariously awkward but heartfelt confession of feelings on both sides.)

Hey hey! So I like I told you I started this a while ago and then got SEVERE AND DEBILITATING writers block, and it sat waiting for new life. And then 5x03 happened, so Hello, new life! I hope you love it!

With You, My Life, I Will Get Married

Warning: mild spoilers for 9-1-1 season 5 episode 3.

Chimney was out searching for Maddie.

After shifts, on weekends, whenever he had a second, he was either spending time with Jee or out searching for her mom.

In times when he was on the search everyone at the 118 was making time to watch Jee Yun. Mrs. Lee was doing what she could, but couldn't always be available, and when that happened, Jee would spend some time at Bobby and Athena's or by Hen and Karen. And when they had too much going on, or when either of the uncles felt like they weren't getting enough time with their beautiful niece, she would spend time at her Uncle Buck's or Uncle Albert's.

Uncle Buck got lucky this time.

Eight hours in and everything had gone wrong. Buck shoulders were damp with spit-up, baby drool, and snot and all Jee seemed capable of doing was crying, crying, crying.

"I'm so sorry! I don't know what I did wrong, and, and now--just, Jee, please, it's okay, I'm here--!"

She continued to yell and Buck got more and more panicked. "Your Uncle Albert's gonna be here in like 5 minutes, Jee, okay? And then, maybe, maybe he's better with you? And will make you happy, and then--Oh God, what have I done wrong--"

A knocking at the door sent him back on his feet, swaying toward the loft entrance. It opened before he could get there, however, and he stopped where he was, a furious Jee Yun screaming in his ears as Eddie Diaz, not Albert Han, walked in.

"You look like you're having fun." Eddie's eyebrow was raised and his mouth quirked in a teasing smile.

"Eddie...?" Buck's momentary shock was interrupted as Jee let out another wail. "Um, sorry, this isn't the best time at the moment, but Albert--"

"--has a date tonight and sent me as his relief." Eddie reached out and plucked Jee Yun from Buck's arms. "And you have a date with your shower and a few hours' sleep."

"I--no, it's okay, I know you just got off shift--"

"Buck." Eddie shifted Jee to one arm, and the other rested on Buck's chest, over his pattering heartbeat. He met Buck's eyes, his own calm despite the bundle of adorable chaos still screaming bloody murder into his shoulder. "Go shower."

"...Yeah, okay."

***

She truly was one of the cutest babies, even when she was liable to wake up the neighborhood with her noise, Eddie thought with a smile as he re-seated her over one shoulder and began to firmly but gently tap her back.

"Your Tio Eddie is going to assume this is a gas issue, okay, chiquita? Christopher used to have this all the time, and he would scream and cry." Eddie huffed ruefully. "I was useless at it then, but Shannon showed me what to do." He kept tapping at her back. "Good set of lungs means a healthy baby, good job, Jee. Now, let's see if we can't get this gas out of you so you can calm down and you and your Tio Buck can get some sleep, okay?"

Eddie started circling the room, the sun beginning to set as he heard he shower turn on.

"There you go, see? Your Buck is going to get all showered since you drooled all over him, and then you both can get some sleep, how's that sound?"

He was answered with a burp far louder than Jee's small body should be capable of making. Then a sweet gurgling sound as she nestled her chin into his shoulder.

"There, feel better, mi princesa?" Eddie whispered against her soft, downy hair. "When I was small and got upset, and my parents got annoyed with my sulking, they'd send me to Abuela. And she would sit me down on her lap, just like this," he sat down on Buck's couch, and settled Jee Yun against his broad chest, rubbing her small back with a large warm hand. "And she would hug me until I forgot what I was so upset about. All I could think about was the smell of her perfume and how much I wanted to be like her one day.

"Then Pepa would come out and yell at both of us that it's about damn time we came into the house, dinner doesn't make itself." Eddie laughed at the memory. Jee made a small discontented noise and Eddie stood up again, walking toward the kitchen, where he saw the half-formed works of bottle making on the counter. "Shhh, princesa, Tio Eddie's gonna make you a bottle." With Jee over his shoulder, sounding more and more on the edge of hunger-panic, Eddie quickly assembled a bottle then leaned back against the kitchen island and cradled Jee Yun in his arms, pressing the nipple to her mouth, which she accepted gratefully.

"Better, yeah? Where was I...? Oh." Eddie smiled. "Once we were inside, Pepa, Abuela and I would make arroz con leche. Abuella would wash the rice, Pepa would be tutting the whole time about too much sugar, but she would always wink at me and add just a bit more before the cinnamon." Eddie couldn't help the smile that stole over his face as he remembered Abuela's warm kitchen in her El Paso ranch house before she and Pepa relocated to LA. In winter, the windows would fog over from the heat of whatever was on the stove. When she left, a lot of Eddie's heart left with her.

"They used to sing me the song too, you know?" Jee gurgled around her dinner and Eddie smiled again. "Well, I wasn't planning to sing it, but you drive a hard bargain." Eddie's poked Jee's soft cheek with a finger and began to sing.

Arroz con leche se quiere casar con una viudita de la capital, que sepa tejer, que sepa bordar, que ponga la aguja en su campanal.

(English translation: Rice with milk (rice pudding) Wishes to get married With a little widow from the capital. Who knows how to weave (or knit), Who knows how to embroider, Who puts the church steeple in the bell tower.)

***

Eddie was no American Idol contestant, but his voice was soothing and good. Strong. Listening to him sing from his seat on the stairs, Buck almost felt like he was where Jee currently snuggled, right against Eddie's chest, as his bass voice sung the gentle Spanish lyrics, harmonized by the occasional happy noise from Jee Yun.

Yo soy la viudita la hija del rey. Me quiero casar y no sé con quien. Contigo sí, contigo no, Contigo mi vida me casaré yo.

(English translation: I am the widow The daughter of the king, I want to get married and I don’t know with whom. With you, yes. With you, no. With you, my life, I will get married.)

Buck's head knocked lightly against the banister, body relaxing. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just the softest sweatpants he owned with a towel draped over his shoulders to catch water from the mess of wet curls on his head.

Eddie's so hard on himself all the time. I don't get it. He's such a good dad.

Dazedly, Buck's eyes fixed on Eddie's mouth as he repeated the verses again. Then Eddie sighed.

"Afterward Pepa would ask me who I want to marry and Abuela would laugh at me, and I'd always complain--" Jee gurgled again. "Like that, yes. But honestly, it was nice... Even though between you and me, Pepa can't sing very well at all." Eddie's lips quirked again in a smile. "Kind of like your Uncle Buck."

Buck startled at his name and looked up at Eddie's eyes. They twinkled back at him in the dying last light of the day, Eddie's golden skin lit by the last rays of the sun. Buck felt his face heat with a blush, knew there was nothing to do about it.

"Sorry, I should've--"

"Feel better after your shower?"

Buck sighed and smiled. "Yeah. World's better." He stood, stretching out his long legs as he descended the stairs. It was full dark now, but Buck didn't feel like turning on a light. "I can take her now."

"Nope." Eddie met him midway, hand on Buck's shoulder turning him around. "You're both getting some sleep now." One hand on Buck's shoulder, the other holding a drowsy Jee Yun, Eddie guided him back up the stairs, and pressed Buck down until he was sitting on his bed.

"Eddie, are you sure--"

"Shhh." Eddie deposited Jee into Buck's arms, then sat down behind him. "You can hold her for now." Eddie's hands skimmed up Buck's warm back then pulled the towel off Buck's shoulders, laying it on top of Buck's head, where a corner flopped over his eyes.

"Eddie?"

"Hold still, Buck."

Eddie's strong hands curled into the towel and Buck's hair, rubbing vigorously to get it dry. "Seriously, anyone who has ever seen your hair at work would marvel at how different it looks before you comb and gel all the life out of it." He rubbed vigorously, and Buck felt himself relaxing back against Eddie's chest. Tomorrow, he might look back at this and feel embarrassed. He might have to apologize. Tomorrow, he would go back to hiding how much he felt for the man who was drying his hair, still absent-mindedly humming the Arroz con leche tune under his breath. But for now, Eddie was too near and too warm and too... Eddie. And Buck found that he couldn't deny himself Eddie right now.

Buck cleared his throat and made himself focus on their conversation. "I used to wear my hair naturally, but people said it looked floppy. Made me look like a puppy."

"People are stupid sometimes, Buck. You know this." Eddie's thumb traced the shell of Buck's ear. "And if you think slicking back your hair makes you look less like a puppy, you really shouldn't be bothering." He snickered as Buck tried to shoulder his chest and Jee made a noise of complaint.

"So I just look like a puppy all the time, huh?"

The towel dropped. Eddie's arms came around, holding onto Buck and Jee Yun both. "I think you're a beautiful man, Buck."

The air in Buck's chest hiccupped out of his mouth. His heart picked up speed as the places where Eddie's hands rested on his stomach seemed to heat from within. "Y... Eddie?"

"Shhh. Sleep now. Jee's asleep, but who knows for how long." Eddie's voice was gruff, embarrassed. "I'll just--"

"Stay?" It came out too high, too soft. Buck cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean, if it isn't any trouble, and--"

"I can stay." Eddie's arms tightened around Buck again and he pulled him backwards until Buck could lay out flat on his back, before pressing Buck's head down on his pillow. Then Eddie pulled Jee from Buck's arms and sat back against the headrest, legs folded together, Buck's niece cuddled again against his chest. "Sleep now."

"Okay." There was so much Buck wanted to know. To say. It all got stopped in his throat as fear tamped it all down to squirm in his chest.

"Eddie?" The word found its way out.

"Hm?"

"...Nothing."

A sigh. Then, "Come here."

Buck didn't hesitate, moving his head off the pillow and onto Eddie's lap. Eddie's spare hand found its way back into his curls and tugged lightly before stroking through them, gently, so gently.

"Sleep now."

"Okay. But," Buck's jaw cracked around a large yawn. "Before... you have to know..."

"Hm?"

"You are... so beautiful... Eddie Diaz."

Buck felt Eddie's hand tighten in his hair again, before releasing, fingers wandering down to trace his eyebrows, his nose, his lips.

"Sleep, querido."

As Buck's eyes slipped closed, and awareness almost dropped away, he swore he could feel lips press lightly right above his eye, on his birth mark.

"Contigo mi vida me casaré yo."

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

hello i have a prompt ☺️; we know for a fact ian and mickey have to sleep close so im picturing them getting into a silly argument and one of them willingly goes to sleep on the couch and when they wake up from their restless sleep at like 1am the other is sleeping on the floor next to the couch, or wakes them up climbing onto the couch. you get it !!

This has already been done SO WELL by @southside-forever in Hold Me Now and just yesterday by @sunnyian here that I don't want to do something too similar, so I twisted it just a bit. Hope you don't mind!

When Ian gets home, he goes to the bedroom first.

He’s been keeping himself away for hours, at this point, and he’s desperate to see his husband. He hadn’t really wanted to leave at all, but his mind had been racing all day, his body twitching right along with it. He couldn’t keep still next to Mickey when they went to bed, and the other man had huffed at him the third time Ian’s knee had gotten him in the gut.

“Jesus Christ, Ian, stop fuckin’ movin’“ he had growled, shoving himself back to put some space between them. “Will you just calm down already?”

His eyes had been cold and hard in the moonlight coming in around the curtains, and Ian had tried, he really had. He had managed to lay still just long enough to Mickey to doze off, his light snores filling the room. There was enough distance between them that for once, Ian couldn’t feel the vibrations.

Then he had the urge to move, again, so he slipped out of bed rather than wake his husband and carefully tiptoed out of the room.

He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t want to bother Mickey, either. So he walked right past the sofa, right past the kitchen, grabbed his coat from a hook by the front door and his shoes from against the wall, and headed out into the cool night.

He’d spent a while wandering around, at first. Sat by the empty, quiet pool outside, watching the water move with the breeze. Walked the edge of the property a few times. Headed out into the Westside proper, past the young bar-goers and vendors that roamed the streets at night.

There was a time he might have enjoyed all of that. He vaguely remembered it, even--wanting to be part of that life, one of the people that never slept, always out and about and having the time of their lives.

But that wasn’t him anymore. His life was back in the apartment, sleeping peacefully in their bed.

So he turned, and went home.

Now, looking into the bedroom, he thinks he should have stayed out longer. Not for himself--there was nothing for him out there. But for Mickey, who slept on without a care in the world, taking up the whole bed despite his short limbs, pillow smashed into his cheek where Ian’s chest would be any other night. Mickey who was doing just fine without him there.

He shuts the door again quietly. It’s not the place for him to be right now. He goes to the living room and settles on the sofa instead, folding his long legs so that he fits. He doesn’t bother with a blanket, or a pillow; he doesn’t expect to sleep anyway. No, he just lies there. Lies there and thinks of Mickey alone in the next room.

At some point, he finally drifts off.

When Ian wakes again, he’s surprised to find that enough time has passed that the shadows in the room have moved.

And that’s not all that moved: instead of in the bedroom, on their soft downy mattress, Mickey is here. Wrapped in blankets, laying on the floor, with one hand raised to clutch at Ian’s bicep up on the sofa.

He’s sleeping, a mild frown marring his otherwise relaxed face, and Ian doesn’t know what’s happening here.

“Hey,” Ian says softly, sitting up. Mickey’s hand falls from his arm and lands on the edge of the cushion, arm bent awkwardly. He blinks awake slowly at the change.

“Hey,” he croaks out, and it makes Ian smile before he remembers why they’re here.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, then bites his lip as how needy he sounds. “Thought you were mad at me,” he adds anyway, figuring the damage was done.

“Woke up and you weren’t there. Not mad at you,” Mickey mumbles sleepily, patting around until his hand lands on Ian’s knee. He squeezes once, gently, strokes the bone with his thumb. His eyes are squinted and bleary, but he looks up at Ian from the floor the same way he always does: achingly sweet.

“The fuck were you thinkin’ that for?” he asks, and Ian doesn’t really have an answer.

“You seemed upset,” he whispers anyway, and Mickey hums, sitting up without letting go.

“Cause I was,” he answers simply, and Ian feels his heart drop before Mickey gives his leg another soft squeeze. “Don’t like seein’ you all tense like that, man,” he finishes, licking dry lips. “Like you’re not really there.”

It hurts, to hear it. But Mickey isn’t wrong, either, even if they both wish he was.

Still, it isn’t all that bad. Ian is on a swing, sure, but they both know it. They knew it well before tonight. And he’s taking his meds, and keeping his schedule (aside from his late-night roaming); he has an appointment tomorrow with his counselor, and one next week with his doctor just in case. It’s under control, as much as it can be, and they have to embrace that, too.

So Ian tries.

“I’m here now,” he offers, covering Mickey’s hand with his own. Mickey flips his over to put them palm to sweaty palm, gripping just this side of too tight.

“Yeah,” Mickey acknowledges, with just the barest hint of a relieved smile. “You are.”

Ian shifts on the sofa, pushing himself back into the worn cushions, and tugs on Mickey’s hand. Mickey follows, leaving behind the tangle of blankets on the floor to settle against Ian chest to chest, his head tucked into Ian’s neck. He’s practically falling off the edge, but Ian wraps a protective arm around him to keep him stable.

Stable, like Mickey helps keep him.

“Love you,” he whispers into Mickey’s soft hair, his breath so light the edges barely flutter.

“I know,” Mickey murmurs into the skin of his neck, and to Ian, it’s the best response he could get.

#i'm so tired it isn't funny you guys #i was out way past my bedtime last night and work today sucked as per usual #i had half a glass of wine and now i'm practically asleep #daily speedwrite #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #hurt/comfort #kinda?#fanfic

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faithfulwarrior-og · 3 years

Text

Drunken Confessions

Rating: T | Word Count: 1,449 | Warnings: swearing, mild suggestive content

Raya has a little too much fun at a party and gets drunk. Namaari takes her back to her room and long story short: drunk Raya is a handful.

Raya is drunk off her ass. She had gotten a little too into the dance party and lost count of how many drinks she’d had. Now Namaari is carrying Raya bridal style up a freaking flight of steps in Heart castle to get her to her room.

Raya is giggling and swatting Namaari’s ear cuff so it swings back and forth.

Namaari sighs. “Please don’t yank that out of my ear.”

“Pfffft you’re so *hiccup* silly…”

“You’re going to be so fun to be around tomorrow,” Namaari mumbles, shaking her head.

“HELL YEAH I AM!!”

Namaari practically drops her. “Dragons! Can you not flail like that?”

Raya wraps her arms around Namaari’s neck and snuggles into her. “This better?”

Namaari swallows. “Sure.”

Raya sighs. “Mmmm you smell so good. Do you *hiccup* like snuggles? Cuz I do.”

Namaari rounds the corner leading to Raya’s quarters. “That’s nice,” she says.

Raya nuzzles her face into Namaari’s hair. “It’s wayyy better than nice,” she adds, hiccuping again.

Namaari is unable to keep from chuckling at how funny Raya is behaving. “Oh yeah?”

Raya tosses her hand into the air. “FuCk yeah dude!”

Namaari laughs despite herself. “Raya, there’s people trying to sleep.”

Raya wipes her nose. “That’s cool. I’m gonna go sleep.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.”

Raya starts tracing Namaari’s collarbone with her finger. Namaari tries not to blush but fails miserably.

“‘Maari, one time Snisu suggled with me and that was so cool.”

Namaari nods. “Mmhm.”

“She is the fluffiest Sisu ever,” Raya says.

Namaari chuckles. “Oh really.”

Raya hiccups, “Uh-huh,” then begins counting on her fingers. “She snuggles me, Tuk Tuk snuggles me…” Raya pokes Namaari’s nose. “Boop! Do you like snuggles?”

Namaari blinks. “Umm sure.”

Raya giggles drunkenly. “Fang princess likes snuggles.”

Namaari frowns at her. “I will drop you.”

Raya gasps and clings to her. “No!”

Namaari coughs. “Okay, stop. You’re choking.”

Raya loosens her grip. “Hehe you like it.”

“Raya.” Namaari goes beet red while Raya just giggles.

Then Raya bursts into tears.

Namaari stops at Raya’s door and sets her down. “What? What’s wrong, dep la?”

Raya collapses against her and Namaari caresses her back, hoping she’s offering some comfort.

Raya sniffles. “You snuggle.”

Namaari squints. “Is that... bad?”

Raya nods into the crook of Namaari’s neck. “Mmhm. No. But yeah.”

Namaari gently pulls her back so she can see her face. “Dep la, I don’t know what you mean, how about we go get you tucked in.”

Raya slumps against Namaari as she is practically carried into the room and over to her bed.

Raya hiccups. “How come you teld— didn’t tell me you had a human?”

Namaari looks down at her. “A human? What—”

Raya flails her arms up. “A human. Y’know. To snuggle!”

Namaari watches as Raya flops onto the bed face first. “Raya.”

“What,” she says, her voice muffled.

“I snuggle with my serlot, okay? Now let’s get you into bed—”

Raya starts crying again, flipping over onto her back and wiping her eyes.

Namaari crosses to the bed. “What??”

Raya whimpers. “That’s so precious…”

Namaari sighs and takes Raya’s cape off for her. “Come on, lightweight. Sleep time.”

Raya smirks and sidles up to Namaari. “Taking my clothes off and *hiccup* everything, dep la?”

Namaari flushes. “Raya, you’re drunk.”

“Pffft. Not.. drunk.”

“Raya—”

Raya begins to unwrap her top. “You missed a couples layers dep la—”

Namaari grabs her wrists and puts the loose part of the shirt back. “No no no, let’s—why don’t you just sleep in your clothes?”

Raya pulls Namaari against her and brings her lips within inches of hers. “But I don’t want to…”

Namaari clears her throat and gently pushes Raya away. “O-okay, well, let’s change into your night clothes over there then.” She inclines her head toward the changing shade.

Raya slumps against Namaari and exhales. “You’re no fun, binturi!”

Namaari rolls her eyes. “I know. So cruel of me.”

Raya looks up at her suddenly. “We should dance.”

“No.”

Raya pulls Namaari close and starts swaying. “C’monnn jus a lil dance?”

Namaari gently pushes her back. “Raya, you need to rest. We just finished dancing.”

Raya pouts. “I knowww but I wanna dance moreee…”

Namaari shakes her head. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Raya scowls. “Yer NO FUN!” She then proceeds to mumble all manners of expletives.

Namaari rolls her eyes again. “Okay, bed time.”

Raya swats her hand away. “But I didn’t change!”

Namaari sighs. “Okay. Fine. Go change.”

Raya shuffles to her changing screen and nearly topples over halfway there. Namaari pinches her nose as Raya finds the fall incredibly funny.

Namaari waits as clothes are thrown all over the place—Raya also seems to find this hilarious—and then Raya says, “Ok ready?”

Namaari squints. “Ready for wha—”

Raya steps out with a smirk from behind the screen in very provocative sleep-ware and Namaari would swear her neck cracked with how fast she stared at the opposite wall.

“Damn it Raya!” she exclaims, her face a deep red. “What are you doing?? And where the hell did you even...” Namaari shakes her head at that. “Never mind. Just..get into bed okay?”

And then Raya is behind her, wrapping her arms around her abdomen. “What’s the matter, dep la?”

Raya’s breath tickles the back of her neck.

Namaari gulps and makes to gently pry her hands away when she feels soft lips press where Raya’s breath was a moment before.

Namaari manages to turn in Raya’s arms. “Raya, no. We can’t. You are drunk. It’s time for bed.”

Namaari goes to push her back but the look Raya gives her then makes her heart constrict.

“You don’t want me?” she asks, clumsily caressing Namaari’s cheek.

Namaari huffs. “No I—” She stops. “I— it’s not that…” She huffs again. “You’re drunk. I’ll be happy to talk about this with you later. Another time. When you’re not drunk. Okay?”

Raya is softly crying again. Namaari pulls her into a hug and murmurs, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s not that I don’t want you, dep la. Don’t think that.”

“Just wanna kiss you…” she slurs against Namaari’s neck. “I keep telling me.. to tell you that. And I never do.”

Namaari freezes, telling herself over and over that everything Raya is saying and doing means absolutely nothing.

The Heart princess snuggles her head against Namaari. “Please don’t leave. Stay and snuggle, please?”

“Raya…”

“Please?”

Namaari sighs. Why does she have to give those damned puppy-dog eyes? “Okay, but just for a minute.”

Raya grins and sprints to the bed to dive onto it. Namaari can’t believe she doesn’t fall on her way there with how wobbly she was.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wear something more comfy, dep la?” Namaari asks. She doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea when she wakes up. The last thing she wants is for Raya to not be able to trust her again.

Raya is already burrowing into the covers. “Nah I’m too sleepy.” *hiccup*

Namaari shakes her head, smirking despite herself. “Okay.”

Raya pokes her arms out and beckons Namaari over. The latter chuckles and climes in beside her. Raya immediately puts her arm over Namaari’s torso and snuggles into her neck. Namaari reminds herself to breathe. She gently brushes Raya’s hair out of her face and her hand lingers, softly combing through silken locks.

“Thet fels nice,” Raya mumbles, barely awake.

“Good,” Namaari whispers back. “Sleep well, dep la.”

“You too binturi,” Raya whispers.

Namaari laughs softly then stops altogether as Raya kisses her cheek.

“I love you,” she says.

Namaari’s eyes well with tears as Raya drifts to sleep. She continues to massage her scalp until her breathing evens out and she begins to snore lightly.

“I love you too,” Namaari whispers.

The Fang warrior slowly worms her way out of Raya’s embrace, careful not to wake her as she replaces the covers and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiles at how peaceful Raya looks, still breathtaking even with a little trail of drool pooling onto the pillow. Namaari scoffs in amusement. That woman is going to have the worst hangover in the morning and be a literal gremlin. Namaari wouldn’t have it any other way, though. She loves that gremlin.

She retrieves a blanket from the end of the bed and curls up on the little seating area that Raya has in the corner of her room. It’s surprisingly comfy due to the millions of pillows that all smell like the soap Raya uses on her hair. Namaari falls asleep quickly, trying not to worry about what today might mean for their friendship.

#drunk raya #namaari of fang #raya #namaari #ratld #ratld fic #fic #fanfic #ratld fanfic #rayaari #rayamaari #raymaari #ramaari #raya and the last dragon #raya and namaari #raya x namaari

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paperpocalypse · 4 years

Text

on the way to nothing.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 37. Making sure to be quiet while they’re taking a nap.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 1,198 words

Warning: Mild swearing

Every evening, the sunset reminds Five that the world has ended.

It’s a strange thing to watch in the aftermath of an apocalypse; even after three years, he still hasn’t gotten used to the sight. Maybe he’s just surprised that the Earth’s still turning – round and round and round, a carousel with only two riders. Behind the veil of dust and smoke, the sun glows red as it sinks, staining the sky in a haunting rust of grayish-yellows and blood orange.

Dragging his supply wagon behind him, Five squints forward into the garish horizon and frowns. “It’ll be dark soon,” he says, pulling his scarf over his mouth and nose as a gust of wind picks up dust.

Beside him, you nod. Your own wagon clanks and rattles behind you, less filled with food and water than it had been this morning. “I still don’t see the town.”

He looks down at the faded roadmap in his hands. “We have about thirteen miles to go. Our best bet is to keep walking until we reach it, while it’s getting cooler.” As he speaks, the sun dips lower and lower. No matter. Both your eyes and his will adjust. “It’ll be easier than walking in one-hundred-degree weather tomorrow.”

“… Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you agree.

Your tone, however, makes Five stop and look over at you. You stop in return but don’t meet his gaze, staring instead at the dry emptiness ahead.

“Something wrong?” he prompts.

As if snapped out of a trance, you shake your head quickly. “No. I’m fine, I just –” you jerk your wagon forward again – “I’m just a little tired, that’s all. Let’s go.”

Eyes narrowing, Five quickly catches up and grabs your shoulder. You don’t shake him off. “Hey. If you need a break, we can take one right now and still get there before sunrise.”

You shake your head again. “No,” you insist, “I can keep going until –”

“No, you can’t. Cut the crap,” he retorts. You have a habit of sugarcoating your complaints – something he learned the hard way a few days after meeting you – and he isn’t having any of that today. “Look, take a nap or something and I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go. Deal?”

You grow quiet. Then, finally meeting his eyes, you sigh and nod. “Deal. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.”

“Then I take it back,” you reply dryly. Five rolls his eyes.

Your shoulder slips out from under his hand as you retrieve a tattered blanket and spare jacket from your wagon, then begin clearing out a space on the ground to lay down on. There’s nothing very meticulous about your work; over time, Five has learned that you can fall asleep quickly and nearly anywhere – convenient for the post-apocalyptic life. It’s like your body takes any chance it can to escape this hell.

Soon enough, you’re satisfied with the arrangement and lie down, hands tucked behind your head. There’s a chunk of space left on one side and Five is surprised when you say his name, reaching down to pat the vacant spot.

“You can sit,” you say, voice soft. The sun is now gone, leaving the darkening sky a chalky, brownish gray that deepens the shadows on your face. (Soon he won’t be able to read your eyes.)

Five obliges silently and sits at the edge next to your legs. Only then does the fatigue from a day’s worth of walking hit him, his sore feet suddenly relieved of work. Neither of you had really taken a break since this afternoon, too focused on finding another place with food and water. It makes him wonder how tired you actually are.

“[Y/n] –” he starts, but closes his mouth when he glances down and sees that your eyes are closed. When he listens, he hears the slowness of your breaths. Yeah, you’ve passed out already. That’s good.

Crossing his legs, Five takes a small sip of water from his canteen while he watches you sleep. Something about this moment, sitting so close to you for no discernable reason other than the fact that you had requested it, fills him with a strange sense of peace. A sense of normalcy.

It’s ridiculous, but it’s also not. You’re the most normal person he’s ever met – no powers, no special talents. Just an ordinary person who didn’t die along with literally everything else on the planet.

He had found that oddly comforting.

He wonders what it would have been like if your aunt hadn’t happened to have powers. You definitely wouldn’t have survived, and he would have landed in the apocalypse completely and utterly alone – nobody to tell him what had happened, nobody to scavenge and travel with. Nobody to talk to. Despite never being very social, Five knows that the solitude would have messed with his head. Running into you was the one good thing that came out of this hellhole.

Out of the blue, he notices how cool the air has gotten. As quietly as he can, Five stands up and goes over to his wagon, taking out his own blanket. He unfurls it carefully, then slinks back over to where you’re dozing. You’re a bit of a light sleeper, so he takes extra care not to be too hasty as he lays the blanket over you, pulling it up to your shoulders.

Suddenly, you shift. Five freezes as you curl up, burrowing under his blanket as you turn onto your side. Only when your breaths even out does he relax.

What the hell am I doing, he asks himself as he sits back. You could take care of yourself. He didn’t have to do that.

One of your hands peeks out past the edge of the blanket. After a moment of hesitation, Five reaches over and grasps your fingers gently, nudging them back under the cover. Your hand is very warm. He pushes that thought away much more quickly.

He’s not sure what he’ll do once he figures out how to get back. Logically, the best thing to do is to leave you here. Bringing you back to a time before you’re born, or even worse, when you have been born already, could complicate the timeline even more, so it’d be best to go alone.

But then you’d be alone.

Five continues to stare at you, trying to make out the minute details of your face in the darkness. He’s gotten attached to you. And sure, that’s fine for now – maybe even good – but farther down the line, it’s going to bite him in the ass. He’d never forgive himself for leaving you to die.

You probably would. You’re that much of an optimist.

“… Five? Should we go now?”

Your voice, hoarse and sleepy, causes him to shake his head and clear it enough to respond. “Ten more minutes. Go back to sleep,” he murmurs, patting your shoulder once.

“Oh, thank goodness.”

Within seconds of saying that, you drowse off again. Five shuts his eyes and releases an inaudible sigh, then opens them again to look up at the black, starless sky. Goddammit.

He hopes you’ll understand when he goes.

#wordless ways to say i love you #source: @50-item-writing-prompts #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy five #the umbrella academy #tua #five x reader #five imagine #tua fanfic #fanfic #reader insert #fluff #time travel-induced angst #this was going to be happier but then #this happened #so enjoy #apocaverse

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machinegunbun · 3 years

Note

Is there gonna be a third part for Deserved It🥺

Deserve You+#

Word count:1.7k

A/N: Everyone say thank youu anon for reminding me lmaoo. This was supposed to be posted tomorrow but I got excited soo

“Pete, please just let me explain.” You whimpered, your voice and spirit growing weak. It felt hopeless, like maybe you really had lost him for good.

Your fist knocked lightly against the wood of the hotel room door, the sound reverberating down the silent hallway. Anxiety filled you, this wasn’t your first time knocking. You had been here for fifteen minutes and were completely unsuccessful so far.

You were pleasantly surprised when you heard fumbling from inside, not expecting them to answer. When the door swung open you were met with the sight of Colson towering over you, an unimpressed glare being shot your way

“He can’t hear you, he’s in the shower. Now stop, you’re pissing me off.”

“Please.”

“What do you want?” The question was more of a statement, letting you talk only to get you to leave.

“Is he okay?” You ask, sniffling.

“What the fuck do you think?”

“Please, I just wanna make it better.“ You plead

“Then go the fuck home.” He replies, shutting the door halfway before opening it again “And stop fucking knocking.” He adds, shutting the door in your face. Sighing, your back slides down the door, admitting defeat.

As you sat in the all too quiet hallway you found yourself wondering if maybe it meant more than you would like to admit. Maybe Colson was right, would you have kissed Shawn if he had never walked in? Would you have even ever told Pete if you did? Would you even regret it?

Tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought. Who were you kidding? Of course you’d regret it, who cares what everyone else thinks? You knew better than anyone that leaving Pete for Shawn would be the downgrade of a lifetime, and the fact that people based the opposite assumption purely over their own ideals of beauty was fucked up. Pete treated you better than Shawn ever did, he made you feel more than Shawn ever could. He made you a better person, you couldn’t believe your judgement had lapsed that badly, even for so much as a second.

Your head knocked against the door twice, trying to bang the anxious thoughts directly from their source, before the door swung open, the tall blonde giving you a single disapproving look when he spotted you on the floor.

“Is it the pizza?” You could hear Pete ask from inside. Right, you hadn’t gotten the chance to eat dinner

“Nah, it’s just Rook. I’ll be right back, you got the door for me?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Pete replied, his voice hoarse. You could only imagine he’d been crying.

You glanced up at Colson from your place on the floor, embarrassed.

“Just let me talk to him.”

“No.”

“He's not a baby, he doesn't need you to protect him.” You mumble

“No, but he cares about you. A lot. A-fucking-lot a lot, and I know if I let him out here and he sees you crying he’ll run right back into your arms.”

“I just wanna see him. I hurt him and it's killing me to know I can't hold him and make him feel better. I just wanna hold him.” You say, your voice cracking.

“Why don’t you just leave him alone and call Shawn instead so he can cheat on you again and you can go on another fucking bender and pretend like theres something interesting about your life.”

“Fuck you.” You retort, although you know his anger is the only reason for his words

“Fuck you too, (Y/N). Who took care of you after you went on your little fucking bender? Pete. Who helped you through the breakup? Pete. Who was with you when you felt like the whole world hated you even though you did nothing wrong? Pete. Who was there for you, romantic or not, whenever you needed him? Pete.If you really want to apologize you need to wipe those fucking tears, take a breath, clean yourself up, and fucking apologize without guilting him into saying its okay.”

“Okay, Okay. I’m not Casie.”

“Damn right you’re not, cause my daughter would’ve never pulled this dumb shit in the first place. And get off the fucking floor, you look pathetic.” He scolds, watching as you stand up, still almost a foot shorter than him. Colson turns around, pushing the door open as it was only half shut. You peer inside, trying to catch sight of Pete, but seeing only a piece of the hallway.

You remained on the floor, not daring to knock once again out of fear Colson might call security on you.

Your head ticked up curiously when you heard someone walking down the hallway, looking up to see Rook making his way towards you. Glancing down at you, he knocked, waiting for a moment before Colson was walking out of the door. Colson looked down at you as well, mild disgust gracing his features before he was walking down the hallway alongside Rook, the two boys disappearing into the elevator.

Pete walked out five minutes later, hoping you hadn’t given up and left. His eyes lit up when he saw you, first reaction being to fix the pout that was stamped on your face.

“Oooh, you got in trouble.” Pete teases, shutting the door behind himself and taking a seat next to you on the carpeted floor, not entirely caring that it was dirty as long as you were right down there with him.

“You heard?”

“It’s a hotel door, not a soundproof barrier.” He jokes, looking at you “Yeah, I heard everything. Listen, he shouldn’t have said any of that to you. He was angry, that’s all.”

“Don’t defend me.” You reply, looking over to meet his eyes. Pete purses his lips, his eyes filling with tears

“I’m always gonna defend you.” He says, his eyes leaving yours as he does, landing on the floor instead. The tone of his words are less reassuring and more disappointed. You thought for a moment he would cry, but he didn’t. His hand never even so much as came up to wipe his tears. Another brief silence fell over you, one more and you think you’d rip your hair out. You were unsure if you should wrap your arms around him the way you wanted to, the last thing you wanted to do was manipulate him into telling you what you did wasn’t a problem.

“I get it.” Pete says, breaking the silence.

“What?” You ask, your voice surprising even you in the midst of such stillness, feeling foreign and unlike your own

“I get if you want to be with him,” Your eyes meet once again as he says this “I won’t hate you.” He assures, his lips pushing together in a sad, half smile. You stared at him, examining his features and what you had done to him, but in Pete’s mind you were weighing out your options, and everytime Shawn came out on top. He was so caught up in his own mind he almost didn’t catch it when you began shaking your head.

“Oh thank god, cause he’s back at our place right now and we fucked on our bed-” Pete’s head tilted down in disappointment, focusing on his tattooed fingers. You laughed, punching his arm lightly “No, I want you dummy. Why else would I be humiliating myself by crying in a la quinta hallway. What's up with that, by the way? Colson doesn’t have the money to put you up somewhere better? You just got your heart broken.” Pete cracked a smile, his gaze shifting up to the door.

“I know the breakup was hard for you, and everything after it too. I guess I can understand just wanting something before it felt like the world turned it’s back to you.”

“No. I don’t want that, I don’t want Shawn. Sappy love songs, extravagant vacations, waking up early to exercise, flirting publicly as fan service, the perfect family-”

“Okay, okay we get it. He has a dad.” He laughs “Stop rubbing it in.”

“And actually nice hotels, seriously what the fuck is this.” You laughed, your heart swelling with love when you managed to make Pete smile “It’s just not who I am anymore. I’m late nights watching TV, laughing by the fridge when we get up at 3am to make snacks cause we have the munchies. I'm sitting in your backyard with you, your mom and your sister while we eat dinner and breathe the fresh air and look at the stars. I’m going on walks cause we’re depressed and need the sun to convince us we’re okay again. You changed me in the best ways, baby. I don’t want anything else.” You stared at the ceiling, vivid images flashing through your mind, thinking who you are now is so much more beautiful than who you were then.

You hadn’t even realized Pete was crying until he sniffled, your gaze drifting back over to him, the sight breaking your heart.

“Fucking lame.” He replies, both of his hands coming up to wipe his eyes, his sweatshirt pulled over his hands. You reach over, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your grasp. Laying there in peaceful silence, you find yourself running your hands through his hair, inhaling his scent and letting his body warm your own. You felt yourself calm down for the first time tonight with him in your arms.

The moment was broken as someone exited their hotel room, glancing down at the two of you on the floor before making their way to the pool, towel flung over their shoulder. Pete and you shared a look of amusement as he walked away, stifling your laughter until he made it to the elevator.

“Come on, let's go inside.” He says, trying the doorknob. There’s a thump sound as it moves a bit and stops, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before giving it another try. You tilted your head, looking at the doorknob and to Pete as a look of realization overtook his features.

“I forgot my key.” He sucks his teeth, shaking his head as you laugh from your place on the floor.

#Pete davidson #pete davidson angst #pete davidson fluff #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fanfic #colson baker #mgk #machinegunkelly #machinegunkelly fanfic #colson baker fanfic #mgk fanfic

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carelessannie · 3 years

Note

Dark/Hydra Steve x Bucky - Breeding kink/ Cum denail (a/b/o)

Thank you anon for the horniest prompt I’ve gotten so far— I honestly sat up last night just thinking about this.

(I didn’t do the cum denial though... hope everything else is pretty satisfying...)

Plus, I’m really excited to write some Stucky, so thank you anon!

Warnings: general Hydra Trash Party warnings, dubcon and coercion, omegaverse, forced heat/rut, drugging, captivity, breeding and forced pregnancy, identity porn, mild violence

---

“The Omega’s in there."

Bucky hears the muted instruction, and tried to shrink against the wall. The cell they threw him in is small, mostly white with tall walls and chrome vents. He’s not sure how long he’s been here, how many hours or days since he was taken from his and Steve’s apartment— drugged and brought here.

He’s well versed in enduring captivity, he has to be. Three tours with the Army Rangers and a day job working for Nick Fury don’t provide him room for anything else. He’s more concerned for his mate— the sweet, beefy Alpha who is more than likely captive in a nearby room, an innocent bystander in Hydra’s nazi quest to dominate... humanity, probably. Bucky’s lost track.

Five men file into the room, and Bucky studies each of them, surprised when the last one is devastatingly familiar.

“Steve! Thank god you’re alright. Did they hurt—"

He’s kicked in the side roughly by one of the Hydra agents, throwing him violently back to the cell floor. He coughs, hacking up a wad of blood that he spits at their feet. Rude.

“Quiet, Agent Barnes, and listen. We’ve brought you the perfect Alpha, able to provide us with the vital results we need. He will stay with you until extraction."

The man speaking nods to the others, quickly backing away and out the door until it’s just Steve left standing in the cell, face drawn and conflicted.

When the door shuts, Bucky stumbles to his feet and into Steve’s arms. The Alpha scents so clinical, distressed and empty, but Bucky still burrows close and holds him tight.

“I’m so sorry Steve, I should have told you... I should never have put you in danger."

Steve strokes his hair and presses a kiss into the crown of his head, “It’s okay Buck, we’ll get through it."

They end up sitting together in a corner of the cell, wrapped in each other’s arms as Bucky fills him in, sharing details about his job and the possible rescue that could be coming for them. Steve listens and nods along, his face drawn and worried as Bucky keeps explaining, trying to comfort him.

“I know Director Fury will assume Hydra took us. They’ll probably come for us in the next 48 hours."

“What if they don’t, Buck?” Steve holds him closer, scenting under his ear, “They told me what they want extracted."

Bucky stutters, “O-oh, what... what is it?"

There’s silences as Steve ducks his head, face riddled with an array of emotion, “They want a pup."

Oh.

“So... vital results is actually code for..."

“A baby, yes. They told me... if we don’t fuck by Friday, they’ll send in another Alpha to do the job."

There’s an underlying growl to Steve’s words that makes Bucky shiver, wiggling closer at the possessive display by his Alpha.

“We’re gonna be okay, Steve. Shield will come for us tomorrow or the day after, and we won’t have to think about that."

It will be fine.

They take Steve from him soon after, injecting both of them with a blue liquid before leading Steve back out the door, away from Bucky. It’s probably a day later when Steve is dumped back in his cell, thankfully unmarked and mentally sound. He feels half way to insane in this white cell— he can’t imagine how a civilian would feel.

It’s a few hours before they take him again, and both of them spend it wrapped together, finding comfort in each other’s arms. They inject the blue liquid again before leaving, taking Steve away and leaving Bucky alone.

Day three is when Bucky starts to worry. He wakes up sweaty, his stomach in knots and heart pounding— usual signs for his heat, even though it isn’t due for another month. Dammit. Not only that, but there’s been no sign of rescue, not even a hint of being saved. Bucky spends most of the day pacing the room— looking for a way out and trying to work a plan of escape.

He keeps getting distracted, thinking of the steady heat building in his gut, and curses his damn Omega biology.

It only gets worse when Steve’s thrown in with him. Bucky’s hair stands on end, crouching low as the scent of Alpha rut hits him full force. There’s no where to go, no where to run.

“Omega,” the Alpha rumbles, stalking closer and pinning Bucky up against the wall. He tries to resist his instincts, telling him to submit and roll over and show his throat. He growls in response and tries to shove the Alpha off— Steve, it’s Steve— but his wrists are easily trapped above his head, displaying the full length of his body for the Alpha to take.

His Alpha ducks down and fits his teeth over Bucky’s neck, right where they’d planned on putting a mating bite during his next heat. Fuck, “Steve, Alpha,” he whimpers, already drowning in his instincts, “I think they drugged us, Steve."

Steve nods, still holding Bucky in place, and he murmurs, “M’sorry, Buck,” against his pulse point.

Bucky pulls back, holding his Alpha’s face in his hands, “It’s okay. Not your fault. I was ready to be yours anyways."

A tear trickles out of Steve’s eye, betraying his despair and emotion. He gives Bucky a sad smile, a brief moment of humanity, before turning them and pushing Bucky to the floor.

The rough movement shocks Bucky’s instincts. Both of their scents flare, combining together into a viral, fertile mix of Alpha and Omega, perfect for each other. Bucky lands on his hands and knees, stretching his back temptingly as he feels Steve hook fingers into his waistband, ripping the cotton pants clean off his body.

“Alpha, please,” he begs, high and whiney, as Steve yanks him closer, baring his dripping, needy hole to the cool, cell air. There’s a wet slapping noise— most likely Steve touching his own dick— before a blunt pressure pushes at his rim, forcing it’s way inside.

Bucky cries out, half in shock and half in pleasure. He knew an Alpha’s rut could get violent, but he didn’t expect the abruptness, the complete lack of prep as Steve starts shoving himself in. He pulls Bucky back with a snarl, spearing the Omega open wide on his cock, before withdrawing and snapping himself back in, hips pressed flush together.

They both howl this time, Bucky’s body desperately clenching against the intrusion as his Alpha sets a relentless pace, fucking into Bucky harder and faster than they have done in the past. After having a moment to adjust, Bucky goes limp in Steve’s bruising grip— sinking into the floor and arching his back instinctively.

His smaller, Omega cock is dripping steadily onto the floor, betraying the insistent arousal of his heat. Steve’s knot is steadily expanding and teasing Bucky’s rim, so close to filling him, to blowing wide inside.

There’s an arm around his chest, pulling him up on his knees as Steve’s thrusts slow, grinding his knot against Bucky’s entrance until it slips in, locking them together. The width of it settles against Bucky’s sweet spot, pressing incessantly, as he pants in Bucky’s ear, “Come on, come for me, Omega, come on."

Bucky shudders, a sudden pain blooming in his shoulder as Steve bites down, bonding them together, and he falls over the edge. He trembles in his Alpha’s arms as they come together, their orgasms working to synch their emotions, their souls, into a sweet harmony.

They settle together on the ground, Steve curled up behind him. Bucky can feel him pumping load after load into his womb, filling him, putting a pup in his belly. He breathes deep and settles back into their bond— horrified to suddenly feel despair, agony and guilt radiating off his Alpha.

“S-steve? What’s wrong— are you okay?"

A sobbing hiccup follows, and Steve holds him tighter, whispering a litany of, “I’m sorry, Buck— I couldn’t... I’m so sorry, Omega,” into his hair.

It’s concerning. Bucky lets his Alpha hold him, trying to send reassurances through the bond as the knot goes down. He can’t imagine what has the Alpha so upset, feeling responsible, but they promised to get through this together. They will get through this together.

Almost the moment his knot deflates and they pull apart, the cell doors are opening, allowing five Hydra agents to file in. Steve jumps in front of Bucky, guarding his vulnerable mate from the agents.

“Stand down, Captain."

Steve freezes, looking between the agent and Bucky, before lowering his guard and standing to his feet. He tucks his softened cock back into his pants and stands at attention, and Bucky just stares, horrified.

“... Steve?"

They ignore him, turning to his Alpha, “Well done, Captain. You may return to your quarters."

“Alpha!” Bucky yells, trying to get Steve’s attention as the Alpha walks towards the door, eyes wide and expression devastated.

Before he leaves the room, Steve turns, suddenly, and meets Bucky’s eyes, “I didn’t have a choice.” They push him from the room before he can say any more, and Bucky can feel the deep, devastating guilt through their bond.

Bucky shakes his head. No. There’s no way his Alpha, his Stevie, could be working with Hydra.

His horror must show in his face because the agent in front of him laughs, “We thought you were better than this, Agent Barnes. But there is a reason why Captain Hydra is our greatest Asset."

They leave him there, in a puddle of their shared release, alone and undressed. And he gave them everything, told Steve everything. His mate for almost a year was just building trust, getting close, and now they have him. By the new mating bond bleeding from his neck, by the seed most likely catching in his womb, tying him to Steve with their shared pup.

He feels furious. He feels defeated. Everything in him wilts, melting in a heap of grief and anger in the same corner Steve just breaded him in, knocked him up and left him.

But most of all, he feels Steve’s guilt, strong and deep through the bond, calling to him. Begging for his forgiveness.

#stucky #htp #shrunkyclunks #drabble #prompt fill #omegaverse #omega bucky #alpha steve rogers #just... check the warnings above #there’s a lot #tw in the description #whump bucky #open ending #modern bucky

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catzula · 4 years

Note

Hi, can I get some scenarios or headcanons of whichever MHA characters you want taking care of their s/o who’s delirious with a fever? Thank you

As long as we’re together

A/N (a special one for the anon heh): thank you so much for the request! I hope it isn’t a problem that I wrote only one since I write long fics, but this was really cute, and I hope you like it!

Genre: mild angst with a good ending, fluff

Word count: 3k :)

Synopsis: you never thought a small cough could turn into something this big, a day Bakugou calls the scariest worst day of his life.

pairing: Bakugou x fem!reader

It started with a cough.

You didn't think of it as much, guessing taking a pill and herbal tea would suffice, and it would be gone the next morning. Katsuki was away for the weekend, apparently, Kirishima was having a hard time, and Katsuli wasn't the type to just let his friends down.

The house was so quiet and so lonely without him, his caramel scent fading with every moment he wasn't there. You thought it was his absence that caused your laziness and moodiness. So you just kept repeating to yourself that it wasn't anything serious and will disappear the next morning,

It didn't, in fact, go away. Instead, you even had a killer headache along with the now slightly worsened cough.

You weren't the kind to get sick often, and even when you did, it didn't last more than a few days. Always just a few coughs and sometimes a bit of haziness, and it would be gone. So when you were talking on the phone, your boyfriend asked you if anything was wrong, you said no. Why did you need to bother him? It would soon be gone, and you knew very well the second you told him you didn't feel good, he would jump on the very first plane or car or anything, walk if he needed to, and be by your side.

Not that you didn't want him next to you, but he was there because someone else needed him, and he would be home soon enough, anyway.

So instead of telling him the slight cough and the headache, you just sighed. "I just missed you, babe."

"Of course, you did." He answered, and you could hear the grin in his voice. "I'm flying back tomorrow. I'll be home for dinner." He added, and you knew he had missed you just as much. "How is..." You started to ask, suddenly forgetting what you were even saying. There was an odd feeling in your brain that stopped you from thinking, your head felt lighter than usual, and your eyelids were closing on their own.

"Shitty hair is fine." He answered, not noticing your shift in mood. "Don't worry about him, dumbass. You eatin' good? I sure hope you're not eating those shitty fucking things again." By those shitty fucking things, he meant anything that didn't have enough spice and protein in it, but you didn't call him out for it. Instead, you stood silent, the kind of thing that caused Bakugou to furrow his brow on the other side of the line. Even though he was serious about you eating healthy, he expected you to laugh or tease him about it.

"Hey, dumbass. You still there?"

You wanted to say something, you really did, but the sudden dizziness that hit you prevented you from focusing on anything but not throwing up.

"Y/N?" You heard Katsuki's now worried voice. "Answer me this fucking second, or I'm coming there right now." He growled when he thought he heard a slight whimper.

"B-baby- I'm right here!" You finally managed to answer. "I was just- looking for the charger so I couldn't answer." You lied, still feeling dizzy, but at least you could talk with him now.

"Y/N, if you're fucking lying to me, I'm jumping on the first plane and coming right there." He told you, but you could hear his worry toning down. "No, no. You're coming home tomorrow anyway." You told him, smiling softly to yourself. "Just, come back to me as soon as you can, baby."

"Don't fucking tell that to me." He answered with a softer voice. "You know there's no need. Oh, shit, I gotta go now." He told you quickly, a shuffling coming from the other side of the line. "Take care, 'kay? And if anything happens, you're calling me."

"Y-yeah." You said weakly, the feeling of tiredness coming back. "You too, baby."

You knew you shouldn't feel sad when he closed the phone, but you did. Sighing to yourself, you thought it would be better if you just slept. You suddenly noticed you hadn't eaten anything the whole day, you had skipped both breakfast and lunch, but you were so tired that you thought it would be okay if you just ate when you woke up.

The room was awfully silent, and you didn't even have the strength to stand up and go to your bed. It would be okay if you slept on the couch, right?

With the thought of your lover coming back to you tomorrow, you smiled to yourself and finally gave in to the heaviness on your body and closed your eyes, thinking about how Katsuki would smile if you cooked his favorite food for him when he came back.

***

Bakugou called you the next morning but pouted when you didn't pick it up. He was an early riser anyway, so he thought you just slept in.

He knew you always woke up with him just for his sake but was also aware you could sleep the whole day if he let you. Still, he had an uneasy feeling in his chest, he knew you would wake up early just to talk to him. You sounded tired when you last talked, though, so he didn't call you one more time.

He called you again as he was eating lunch with Kirishima, you probably should have woken up and at least called him back by then. Maybe you just didn't see the missed call he had left.

The phone rang and rang, but you still weren't picking up. He called you again, and again after that, too, his brows furrowing and leaving a small crease of worry on his forehead.

"You good, Bakubro?" He heard Kirishima call to him, realizing he had been looking at his phone screen for the past few minutes. Bakugou clicked his tongue. "Yeah, let's just eat already." He answered grumpily and saw the cheeky smile on his best friend's face.

"Can't even be apart from Y/N a few days?" Kirishima teased and Bakugou clicked his tongue again. "Shut up, shitty hair. It's because of you I'm here."

You must be working, Bakugou thought. Or maybe you were tidying your place up since he knew how messy you could get when he wasn't around. That must be it, he thought. You knew how much he disliked untidiness and must be cleaning to surprise him.

He called and called after that, the uneasy feeling in his chest with every missed call, but he always found an excuse. He called you before his shower, after the shower, as he packed his luggage, after finishing, as he left the place, at the airport, before he got on the plane, but you just didn't pick your phone up.

He felt the strong taste of blood in his mouth, not even aware he was biting his lip. He was so uneasy throughout the flight, still feeling a bit at ease to be finally reunited with you, he could almost feel your sweet scent when he closed his eyes.

Maybe you were mad at him for leaving you the past two days, or he closed the phone too early the day before. You could also be teasing him for when he came back, right? Still, that wasn’t the kind of thing you would do.

He kept calling when he landed, the phone never spending a second without calling you. When he finally came in front of your door, he thought you would run to open the door for him when you heard the sound of the keys. He opened the door with a scowl on his face, ready to scold you when you jumped to his arms.

Or maybe he could hug and kiss you before he did so. Yeah, that would be better, he thought, he could give you a long kiss before he scolded you. "Oi, shitty-" he called out, but instead of seeing your bright smile and beautiful face, he was greeted with absolute silence. "Woman..." His voice trailed off.

The lights were still on, the TV playing in the background, but you were nowhere to be seen. "Babe?" He called out, every scenario playing in his mind, his usually collected movements turning into panicked ones.

"Y/N?!" He shouted again, throwing his luggage to somewhere he wasn't even sure where. He rushed into the living room, the untidy room making him grimace, which meant that you hadn't been cleaning up when he called.

"Y/N!" He shouted one more time, this time, his ruby gaze had finally landed on the small figure on the couch. You looked so small, squeezed between the big pillows of the couch, hugging your body tightly. He could feel his chest tightening at the sight, but the pained look on your face was what caused his breath to hitch in his lungs.

He ran towards you, noticed how your cheeks were bright red, your face glowing with a sheer layer of sweat. Despite the sweat and your red cheeks, you were trembling like a leaf as you hugged yourself for warmth. You were whimpering and mumbling to yourself, and even though he couldn't understand what you were saying, your face that twisted with pain and agony told him he didn't want to know.

His hand touched your forehead, but he pulled it back almost instantly. You were burning.

Bakugou suddenly forgot everything he knew, his thoughts blank, mind full of panic. "Shit!" He mumbled to himself, picking you up from the couch and rushing to the shower. Even your clothes were wet with sweat, though you still nuzzled your face to his neck, hugging him to find warmth.

"I'm so cold." He heard you mumble, a shiver running down your body. "I'm so cold." You repeated, your voice causing his heart to beat faster than it already was. "I know, baby." He told you as he started to run a lukewarm bath, frantically trying to get you out of your damp clothes.

Still, it was a good sign that you were at least somewhat conscious. Bakugou bit his lip anxiously when he heard you whimper his name. "Shh," he cooed, "I'm right here."

He didn't know why, but he could swear a pained look shadow your face when he told you that. Quickly placing you to the bathtub when it was ready, you clung on him weakly. "No- no, don't go, don't go, please!" He heard you cry out. "I'm right here, baby, I'm not leaving you." It was all he could say as tears slid down your cheeks.

Bakugou finally managed to settle you in the tub, the feeling of you unconscious in his arms like he was carrying a doll sending shivers down his spine. He finally let himself fall on the floor, sitting right next to you, burying his face in his hands. This explained why you acted weird the day before, and he was so mad that you didn't even tell him-

His mind blanked when he heard a soft sob coming your way. "Y/N?" He whispered when your sobs got more frequent and stronger. "What's wrong, baby? Are you hurting- why are you crying?" His hands caressing your burning cheek, pushing the hairs back from your face, Bakugou was in desperate need of an answer.

It took a few seconds for you to finally be able to answer. Your voice was so soft and so broken, he wouldn't have been able to understand if he hadn't listened so closely. "I don't want you to die." A sentence that sent shivers down your lover's spine.

"What? What are you-"

"I-I want- I wish we had more time together!" You sobbed, your shoulders shaking violently, and he had to hold you so that your head wouldn't fall into the water. Your face falling forward and back, you didn't have the strength to support your head. Why did you look so sad? What even was the nightmare you were having? Bakugou wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Baby I- I'm right here!" Bakugou called out to you hopelessly, well aware you weren't conscious and probably having a fever dream. He had never felt so hopeless, he would do anything to pull you out of this unconsciousness and tell you it was all a nightmare. So in a desperate hope to reach you, he kept repeating it, "I'm here, baby! I'm not dying, I'm right here, next to you. We're at home, we're together, please!"

"I know." You told him. "I'm happy we at least get to spend our last day together."

"No," He repeated, "please." He groaned, chewing his lip, trying to hold the tears that were forming because of seeing you like this.

"We're not- Y/N we're not dying." He repeated a thousand more times, the words causing a soft smile to form on your lips. Bakugou took a deep breath of relief, thinking the dream finally passed but grimaced when your tears kept coming.

"It's okay," you whispered. "I'm not- sad."

"Baby-" He repeated brokenly, feeling the tears form on his eyes. "We're not- you're not dying." He kept on telling, knowing it didn't reach you. He gasped when you pressed your face to his hand that caressed your cheek.

"I love you." You sighed weakly, and he noticed you were losing all consciousness. Your body felt heavier than it was before, Bakugou noticed, realizing you had probably passed out.

Still, the panic caused his heart to beat so hard in his chest that he thought it might break free, as he brought his hand to your neck and felt your heartbeats.

A deep breath of relief came out of Bakugou's lips, and only then did he notice that his cheeks were wet with tears.

***

Bakugou woke up when he heard you groan, not even aware he fell asleep.

He had carried you back to your bed after the bath, changing the cold compress on your forehead every hour. How long was he asleep?! Did your fever get higher again? He sprung to his legs, running to the bathroom to get a new cold compress, but he froze in his place when he heard your soft voice.

"Katsuki?" He heard you call out, eyes widening with relief and happiness, though the feeling immediately vanished when he realized you were probably hallucinating again. a heavy feeling in his chest when he realized you were hallucinating again. His chest tightened at the thought of you being stuck in those nightmares again.

You kept losing consciousness and regaining it throughout the night, and he felt like he was going to go mad if you begged for him not do die one more time.

"When did you come back?" You asked, you couldn't even open your eyes since they felt like they weighed a ton. Your throat was so dry that every word that came out of your mouth hurt. When you managed to open your eyes, trying to see where your boyfriend was, you knew he was here, you could hear his heavy breathing. Ah, shit. You had fallen asleep (?), he was probably mad at you since you hadn't greeted him.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to cook you dinner but I-" You mumbled, but before you could finish your sentence, you felt strong arms wrapping around your body, pulling you into the familiar chest of his. "Wh- what's wrong?" You asked, surprised by the sudden affection. He buried his face to your neck, his spiky hair tickling your face, his arms that were holding you felt like he was never going to let you go.

"I was so worried- I was so fucking worried!" He muttered into your neck, and you noticed how his voice was breaking. The silent sobs, you hadn't missed, or the way his shoulders shook ever so slightly, although he was trying to hide it, you always noticed.

You gave him the time he needed as he tried to get himself back together between your arms. You weren't exactly sure what happened, but you were positive he would be scolding you about it every day for the next few weeks.

"You shitty woman." He muttered as he pulled back, his hand still cupping your cheek and his ruby-red eyes softer than you had ever seen them. "You were fucking burning up when I came home, I had to run a bath and shit and you-" He suddenly stopped speaking, turning his gaze away from you, something very unlike him. Bakugou never missed the chance to either tease or scold you about something, you had never seen him holding back.

"What?" You asked, trying to find his gaze once again, and he grunted, annoyed, but rolled his eyes when you kept pushing. "What happened? What did I do?"

"You were fucking sick, okay?" He blurted out, "Why didn't you tell me, dumbass?" His ruby eyes glinted with worry, and you bit your lip not sure how to answer. "I thought it would get better if I just slept." You mumbled apologetically.

"Yeah, obviously." He growled and clicked his tongue in annoyance. You sighed as you tried to sit up, but the sharp pain in your head caused you to gasp and fall back to the pillow. "Don't you fucking move." He warned, and you smiled weakly.

"I wanted to cook for you, today." You muttered. "I'm sorry I couldn't greet you. I missed you a lot, you know."

A sliver of pain went across his face, and although he clicked his tongue and tried to hide it with an annoyed expression, you caught it still. "What's wrong, baby?" You asked softly, running your hands through his hair, the motion causing him to relax under your touch. It was something he never asked for, but you knew how much he liked it when you played with his hair.

You could feel it by the way he leaned into your touch, how he hid the sigh of relief and happiness whenever your fingers twirled his soft locks around them, how he always lay his head to somewhere your hand could easily reach.

"I- I'ts nothing." Bakugou mumbled, a small smile on his lips as he closed his eyes, snuggling even closer to you.

He could finally relax, knowing that you were here, here with him, out of that nightmare.

"Nothing," he told you. "I'm just happy you're here."

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x you #katsukibakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #bnha scenarios #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x fem!reader #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #mha imagines #mha x you

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smartycvnt · 3 years

Text

Need You Now

pairing: Rita Calhoun x Reader

summary: After Rita gets hurt, you realize that you don’t want to live your life without her in it.

warnings: hey, it’s a little angsty.

It felt wrong sleeping in the guest room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to spend the entire night in bed with Rita. You missed her dearly, but the rough patch the two of you were stuck in was looking more and more like the end every second. There were always things to fight about with Rita. Both of you had tendencies to clash and butt heads sometimes, but this was bad. Luckily your schedule was pretty flexible, so you spent most of your days in the apartment while Rita was working and then your nights were spent at work while she was home.

Today was a rare day where you both were home and not in any mood to go out in order to avoid each other. You could hear Rita going back and forth between the living room and her office. Not a word had been said to each other all day. You weren’t sure what hurt worse, the fact that Rita was ignoring you or the fact that it seemingly came easily to her. Your thoughts had begun to spiral a little, but a loud thud in the hallway dragged you out of them.

“Rita?” You opened up the door to the guest room and peeked your head out. Laying on the floor in the hallway was Rita. Panicked, you rushed over to her and tried to wake her up. When that didn’t work, you called an ambulance and rode with them to the hospital.

It was the slowest 45 minutes of your entire life waiting for the doctors to update you. Every single time someone came out through the emergency room doors, you’d sit up with the hope that they were there for you. You wanted to be sure that Rita was fine, but you couldn’t be. She had just been lying there on the floor and you didn’t even know what was wrong with her. You couldn’t answer any of the paramedics’ questions because you had been sitting and sulking in your room over a weeks long fight you’d been having with Rita. There were so many things you wanted to say to Rita that you didn’t know if you could anymore and it was like a giant weight crushing your chest.

“Miss Y/l/n?”

“Yes,” you said as you sat up. “Um, is Rita alright doctor?”

“She is fine ma’am. We think that it was a mixture of stress and mild malnutrition. Just make sure she gets enough to eat and is hydrated. You can take her home now if you’d like, just sign here.” The doctor held a form out towards you and you immediately signed it. He gave you her room number and you went back to get her.

“Come on, we’re going home,” you told her. Rita tilted her head down a little and stared at you. “We can stop and get something to eat on the way. The doctor said you’re malnourished, so I’ll switch my schedule to make sure you get a good breakfast and dinner. I want you to take one of my metal bottles with you to work, those keep the ice cold and I know you hate drinking warm water.”

“Y/n, slow down. I know we’re in a hospital, but I’d rather you not have a panic attack,” Rita said. She rubbed her hands over your biceps until you started to calm down. “We have some things to talk about.”

“No we don’t. I’m sorry. I want to go back to sleeping in your bed again at night because I’m so tired. I’m tired of avoiding you. I’m tired of feeling sad every single time I look at a picture of you. I’m tired of constantly worrying that every call is you telling me that we’re separating. I know that I could go on if we did, but I don’t want to.”

“That can’t be the end of this and you know it,” Rita told you. You knew that, but you had hoped for the time being, she’d let things be. You sniffled a little and looked at her, hoping to garner a bit of sympathy. You missed her so much and having thought you almost lost her just reminded you of how much you had grown to need her. “But there’s no harm in waiting until tomorrow to talk. Let’s just go home, I think that’s what both of us need right now.”

“Yeah, it is.”

==============

@svushots @alexbllake @storiesofsvu @wosoimagines @enduringalexblake @lesbianologist @hbkpop @wannabe-fic-reader @mmmmokdok @xixxiixx @mysticfalls01 @wandas-wife @ladysc @rosiewritesagain

#Rita Calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #rita calhoun imagine #rita calhoun imagines #Law & Order: SVU #SVU #svu imagine #svu imagines #svu x reader

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namariea · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Advocate | I

“So for argument’s sake... let’s just say Do Kyungsoo really is the boring square you say he is..”

“Don’t you want to find out what makes him tick?”

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

Words: 4.4k

Genre: Romance, Slowburn, Smut

It started with a knock on your door.

“Jongin is coming over tonight, that cool?”

Looking up from your laptop screen, you stared at your roommate who was leaning against your doorway. Blinking slowly, you processed her words.

“Jongin is coming over.”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.”

“And will Mr. Kim be staying over?”

“That would be a correct assumption, yes.”

“Sleeping in your room.”

“Why, did you want him to sleep here with you? Not what I was expecting, but I’m all down for polygamy.”

With a sigh, you saved the document you were working on and began to close your laptop. Collecting the various papers and books scattered around you, you began to tuck them away neatly into your backpack. Sliding off of the bed, you walked the length of the room and began to rifle through your drawers, pulling out some clothes.

Frowning, Jennie walked over to you and looked over your shoulder as you began refolding them and putting them in a gym bag.

“What are you doing?”

“I have a paper I need to finish proofing for tomorrow and I highly doubt I will get any work done with the two of you going at it like animals.”

Jennie didn’t even look fazed at the comment, shrugging non committedly while throwing some pajama shorts your way. Rolling your eyes you passed through the joined bathroom and threw in your toiletries. As you were zipping up your bag a knock came at the door causing you to pause.

Well, that was fast.

Turning around, you looked at the brunette behind you with raised eyebrows, and only then she had the decency to look the slightest bit sheepish.

“Have I told you how much I love you today?”

With your roommate trailing at your heels blabbering about how you are the greatest roommate ever and how she owes you a life debt, you opened the front door and were greeted with Jongin holding what appeared to be a party sized bucket of KFC. Before he could open his mouth you stuck out your hand, waiting.

Blinking down at your outstretched palm, he gave you a confused look.

“Keys. Since you are kicking me out of my bed I’m taking yours”

Jennie snorted behind you as Jongin’s face split into a wide grin.

“You know, I always knew you were a great person.” fishing out his keys from his pocket he handed them to you.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you gave the couple a wave of your hand and began to make your way down the hall. You were halfway to the elevators when Jongin's loud voice stopped you.

“Oh by the way, Kyungsoo isn’t around tonight, so feel free to raid the fridge before he gets back.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jongin’s presence at your apartment wasn’t a new occurrence.

In the beginning, it was just him coming over during the day to help Jennie with her design assignments. Which was ok, amazing actually, since it helped her out a lot and saved you dealing with her stress meltdowns.

Then it progressed to Jongin appearing at your dinner table every Friday to partake in Chinese takeout nights. Which was fine, again, since he picked it up on his way over and pitched in. He also somehow was able to sweet talk the old woman who owned the store and managed to get extra egg rolls. Can’t go wrong with that.

It wasn’t until Jennie gave you the look while the older boy excused himself to use the bathroom after one said dinner that you took the hint.

Now, Jongin occasionally stays over during the weekends, where you would find him in the living room at ungodly hours watching the Pirates of the Carribean all the while eating a family sized package of oreo’s. Which was mildly perturbing on two counts. First, was the fact that this was probably the 5th time you’ve seen him watch that movie, and second, those were your oreos.

The final straw was not until the weekend that just past where you were woken up a loud banging. It was not until you were halfway to Jennie’s door in a frantic scramble that your sleep deprived brain caught up with you and realized it was very much not a violent murder taking place in the room over.

Animals.

It was then you all agreed to establish some sort of door-sock system.

Which in essence was - if Jongin was coming over, it was probably best to just find somewhere else to crash.

You didn’t actually mind leaving as much as you thought you would. Jennie was one of your closests friends and it was clear as day that Jongin made her happy. You didn’t even mind hanging out with the guy, he was fun and always brought snacks in return for practically living at your place. Even if his tastes in movies were highly questionable.

It was just sometimes - like right now where you had a Business Ethics paper due at 7AM - where you needed all the quiet you could get.

Reaching the apartment, you slotted the key into the lock, you pushed open the door to Jongin and Kyungsoo’s apartment. Stepping through the threshold you were greeted by darkness.

Flicking on the lights you took in the apartment. You had been in the apartment a handful of times when Chanyeol threw parties, but this was the first time you had been there on your own, literally.

From the neatly organized coffee table to the dust-less surfaces as far as the eye can see, the state of the apartment very much reflected that of the other owner - there was no way anyone would believe the human tornado that was Kim Jongin lived here otherwise.

Speaking of the other owner -

“Kyungsoo?”

Thank goodness for small mercies.

Do Kyungsoo, best friend of Jongin and probably the biggest enigma you've ever met. Not only was he more reserved and mild tempered in comparison to his flatmate, but he was the only one in your mutual friend group that you couldn’t bring yourself to get close to.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying, mind you. And to Kyungsoo’s credit he has never been rude to you, though you wouldn’t necessarily call it friendly either. Cordial at best...maybe. His deposition towards you, and apparently anyone who didn’t know him before the year 2015 was polite but distant. He was so different from the rest of his friends that one day Jennie had asked Jongin how he and Kyungsoo even lived together.

“We met freshman year-” Jongin said while spooning a mountain of orange chicken onto his plate.

“We were paired up as roommates and we just clicked - Kyungsoo is a great guy, he’s actually pretty hilarious”

“Really?” Jennie leaned in, abandoning her lo mein to gape at the man next to her.

“Its true!” Jongin said defensively at her expression, “how do I explain it-"

"You kind of have to approach him first, and then see how he responds. He just needs time to warm up to you, you'll see."

Now, you weren’t sure if Kyungsoo had ‘warmed up to you’ yet, but you definitely saw the man’s look of disgust as he caught you making kraft dinner in the microwave that one time during finals last semester.

Hot tip - never make microwave kraft dinner in front of a Culinary Arts major.

Checking your watch and noting it was half past ten, you settled down cross-legged at the coffee table in the living room. Pulling out your laptop and notes, you organized it all in front of you before rolling your neck and flexing your fingers.

“Now, where was I-”

After what seems like the hundredth time going over the same words over and over again, desperately making sure you didn’t have any spelling mistakes and that your citations were all correct, you finally hit save for the last time. Tapping the screen of your phone you brought it up to your face as you leant back against the couch, squinting as the time appeared.

2:35 AM

Stretching, you lifted yourself from your sitting position and began packing your laptop and papers away.

Exhausted, you crawled your way up onto the couch, pulled the Captain America themed throw blanket over your tired body, and closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to take you.

Which should have been an easy task.

Except Jongin apparently decided to buy the cheapest couch in Ikea.

No wonder the man lived on your sofa, he has never known true comfort.

Huffing, you sat up begrudgingly, groaning as your body objected to the movement. You glanced down the darkened hallway and pursed your lips.

Taking your bags you began shuffling down the hallway and stopped in front of one of the doors that was ajar. Slowly pushing it open you hesitantly stuck your head in. The sight of the various Mangas scattered on the floor confirmed that you had found the right bedroom.

I mean, there are worse places to sleep.

Making your way further into the room, you kicked the door closed as you made quick work of stripping out of your clothes and changing into your pajamas. You all but dove into the bed, not caring that it was unmade or that you probably should have changed the sheets. A content sigh escaped you as you sank into the mattress, sleep taking over.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Waking with a start, you were momentarily disoriented as you took in your surroundings. Blinking blearily around, it took a few seconds to remember where you were and why your bed smelled like Old Spice.

Ah, right.

Groaning, you glanced at the window and took in the darkness still.

You tried to close your eyes in hopes that you would be able to catch a few more minutes of sleep. However, instead of slipping into blissful sleep you found yourself tossing and turning, body restless in any position you put it in.

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes you lay there for a few moments. Blindly reaching towards the side table you fumbled with your phone, squinting as the screen illuminated your vision.

5:50 am

There is no God.

Finally accepting that you were not going to get any more sleep, you begrudgingly slid out of bed. Stretching, you began to make your way to the door, stifling a yawn as you opened it.

And immediately screamed.

“WHAT THE F- Kyungsoo?”

Standing in front of you was a hooded figure, looking just as startled as you were. Hand grasping the handle leading to the room directly across the hall, Kyungsoo had turned at the sound of Jongin’s door opening and his eyes widened almost comically at your presence.

As the fuzziness of sleep was lifted you realized that it must have been the sound Kyungsoo entering the apartment that woke you up. And judging from the incredulous look he was giving you, Jongin must not have told him you were there. Taking in his baseball cap and casual attire, you felt your eyebrows furrow.

Did he just get back?

You watched as his eyes slid down and you were suddenly very much aware of the lopsided bun that had come half undone in your sleep and the thin material of your pajamas. His eyes then darted from your own to the bedroom and back, eyebrows furrowing.

Your eyes widened at the silent question glinting in those dark eyes. Your hands immediately flew up as you began sputtering.

“It's not what it looks like!“ you began frantically and he only lifted a dark brow higher in a silent bid for you to continue. “Jongin was staying over at our place last night and I came here to give them privacy, you know how they are, it’s like National Geographic except nobody asked for it”

He shot you a bemused look.

You felt yourself flush and looked at the space of the wall next to his head “And well, I didn't get kicked out of my own bed to sleep on a couch… So I slept... in here" gesturing to the bedroom behind you awkwardly.

There was another beat of silence.

Great. Fantastic. Realll smooth. It seemed that without fail, every time you are in the immediate presence of the man across from you, you feel yourself suddenly tense up. Which is stupid, considering the fact that you are friends (distant acquaintances), and have been around each other for months now and got along great (cordial at best), surely by now you can have a normal conversation at the very least.

Speaking of conversation, you also become hyperaware of the fact that the other person in the hallway has yet to say a single word to you. Palms beginning to sweat, you began to scramble to think of something - anything - to cut the silence. As if your insane ramblings weren’t bad enough. He probably thinks you’re even more of a raging lunatic, compounded with what happened last semester. Why, why, of all things why did you have to crave Kraft Dinner for fucks sake-

“I see.”

Your inner monologue was cut short by a low reply. it seemed Kyungsoo deemed your answer acceptable, nodding slowly to himself.

You almost felt your body sag in relief, shifting your weight on the balls of your feet.

As another beat of silence passed, you fidgeted again as you were regarded by the dark haired man. Kyungsoo had yet to make any move towards his own room and you suddenly didn’t know what to do with your hands.

Someone kill me.

You cleared your throat, “Umm...so now that that's cleared up… I’m just going to... go over...there” gesturing to the bathroom. You didn’t even wait for him to answer you as you powered your way past him and slipped into the bathroom, pressing your back against the door as it closed behind you.

You waited with baited breath as you heard silence from the hallway. Eventually after what felt like an eternity, there was a shuffling of feet, and the clicking of a door closing from down the hall.

Silently making the motion of bashing your head against the door, you let out a deep breath. Shaking your head you flicked on the light and picked up Jongin’s papaya face wash.

I mean, that could have been worse.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Making your way across campus, you faltered slightly as a yawn made its way through you. After submitting your paper to your professor's dropbox you had spent the day catching up on the never ending tasks you had on your to-do list. You had holed yourself up at the campus library and it wasn’t until your stomach decided to do its best impression of a Harley Davidson that you decided it was probably best to call it a day.

Pulling out your phone you pulled out a delivery app and started browsing the menu for the greek place a block down from your apartment. Flicking through the menu, you contemplated between the Pork Souvlaki or the Chicken gyro...maybe Jennie would be willing to go half and ha-.

You halted on the sidewalk.

Right.

Jennie.

Jennie who is currently still at your apartment.

With Jongin.

Well, shit.

Switching to your messages you sent a text to Jennie.

You: All clear?

You watched with bated breath as the three dots appeared at the bottom.

A sock emoji.

Lovely.

Sitting down at a nearby bench, you began sending out a barrage of texts.

After about 20 minutes of asking around you found out that Jisoo was out of town seeing her parents, Rose’s apartment building was apparently being fumigated for the second time this month and Seulgi was having Irene and Wendy over and you didn’t think you wanted to be part of whatever freaky party those three were going to have.

With every text that came in you felt yourself slowly deflate more and more. Placing your hand in your jacket, you grasped the keys that were in your pocket. They felt heavier than they should be.

There was one other option.

Grimacing, you flushed as you remembered the painfully awkward conversation you exchanged with a particular dark haired man this morning. There was no doubt in your mind that he would be home if you went over now, and you didn’t even want to begin imagining how this interaction will go.

You bit down on your bottom lip in worry as you brain tried playing out the various scenarios in your head. All in all, Kyungsoo didn’t seem to care all that much this morning, but then again when have you ever seen Kyungsoo care about anything.

Come on, think. Well, what do we know...

He is a mutual friend (questionable), for starters. If you both are able to get along with the dumperfire that is your friend group you have to have something in common.. Right?

You stopped fiddling with the keys in your pocket as the realization hit you.

Pulling up your contacts you scanned down the list before pressing ‘call’.

“Oi, Jongin. Does Kyungsoo like Greek?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Turns out no, Kyungsoo does not, in fact, like Greek.

According to Jongin, Kyungsoo is obsessed with this weird hole-in-the-wall Italian place that had handmade pasta. What was supposed to be a 10 minute walk ended up taking 45 minutes as you got lost 3 times, and once you finally found the store the doors were locked. What restaurant shuts down from 3 to 5 on a Friday?

Hipster pasta makers, apparently.

It was lost to you what the appeal was, but if there was anything that you learned in the years as a young adult living on their own, it was that there were two sure-fire ways to bond with someone:

Get drunk

Eat good food while drunk

The latter was not necessarily limited to ‘good’ food - after a few shots to you a McNugget is like a Michelen meal. However you had a gut feeling that Kyungsoo wouldn’t be too welcoming if you showed up with tacos and tequila.

So did you wait around for an hour and a half just to order something you could have bought as Lean Cuisine?

You bet your ass you did.

Because nothing says I’m sorry I know we barely know each other but our friends are banging so were kind of stuck together quite like overpriced spaghetti and meatballs.

Adjusting the paper bag in your arms you walked up to the familiar door. Fumbling with the key you finally managed to wedge it open and stepped through the threshold.

Unlike the last time you entered the apartment, this time you weren’t met with silence. The lights were already on and the sound of the TV filtered throughout the apartment. Toeing off your shoes and arranging them neatly next to the pair by the door.

Arms full of take out you were all of a sudden nervous to turn the corner.

You are once again reminded of the fact that you are very much not close with this man and this will probably be the first time you ever said more than 4 sentences to him in one sitting. And now you are about to have dinner together, alone.

"You kind of have to approach him first, and then see how he responds. He just needs time to warm up to you, you'll see"

Kim Jongin don’t you fail me now.

Kyungsoo was sitting on the couch looking at his phone when you entered the living room. He immediately looked up and you watched his eyes widen marginally at your presence, clearly not expecting you back.

“I…” The mini speech you had been preparing during the 12 minute walk to the apartment died in your throat as you made eye contact with the dark haired man in front of you. The look he gave you left you momentarily thrown, it was a look that instantly made you think that he was annoyed with you with the way his eyebrows were drawn and the slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It wasn’t until you saw Kyungsoo’s eyes slide to the bag in your arms briefly, and the slightest flicker of curiosity gave you the courage to push on.

“Jongin is still my place,” you offered, and watched as his eyes flit back to meet your own.

“So,” you continued, shifting the bag in your arms, “I brought some dinner, as a peace offering of sorts, I guess. I hope you’re hungry, because they gave us enough garlic bread to feed a small Italian village.” you let out an awkward laugh.

Kyungsoo looked at you as if you had grown a second head. You didn’t blame him, but you were too far gone to back down now, even if the man was giving you a shoulder so cold it could freeze Sahara.

Making your way into the kitchen you placed the bag on the counter and began taking plates out of the cabinets, trying to keep your trembling hands busy.

Stupid, stupid, this whole idea was stupid.

As you were transferring the food from the containers you heard a slight rustling behind you.

You almost turned around when you didn’t hear anything else, but then a deep voice spoke up, albeit hesitantly.

“Is that from Giulietta’s?”

Stiffening a smile you did not respond to the man immediately when he materialized at your side.

Humming in affirmation you handed him his plate, which he took slowly, eyeing the food suspiciously.

I swear, this guy.

It wasn’t until you had dished out your own plate that you turned to him finally and gave him what you hoped was a friendly smile.

“So, have you watched the new season of Great British Bakeoff?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Have a nice weekend? Actually don’t answer that, I really don’t want to know.” You didn’t even look up from your laptop as Jennie slid into the seat next to you at your morning lecture.

“Jongin has been doing ballet for years, I swear I never knew a body could bend like-”

“Ew. Gross Jennie, it’s 9AM”

“I have no concept of time anymore, the man wouldn’t let me sleep-”

“Jennifer, please, this is a sacred place.”

“This is Introduction to Environmental Science, most of the people here are too worried about cleaning baby ducks with Dawn soap than to eavesdrop”

Groaning you buried your head in your hands and took a deep breath. You really should have stopped by the Cafe next door and got some coffee, you aren’t nearly coherent enough to deal with this.

“Hey,” Jennie started, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Thanks again for stepping out and giving us the apartment for the weekend, I really appreciate it”

“You’re lucky I like you.

“Oh please-”

“-I barely got out of there alive.”

“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

It wasn’t, actually.

Last night you and Kyungoo had sat in their living room and watched the Great British Bakeoff while you ate your dinner. You thanked whatever higher power there was that Kyungsoo was not a stickler for eating at the dinner table. Or maybe he was, but also thought this situation was incredibly awkward and also wanted some sort of distraction to avoid having to make small talk.

It wasn’t wholly unpleasant, you actually found yourself mildly enjoying yourself. He was a man of a few words but every now and again he would sprinkle in some choice commentary here and there, making noncommittal noises when a contestant added a new ingredient.

Odd fellow, this one.

He was polite enough to stick around for a couple of episodes before standing and offering to take your plate.

“Would you like something else? Jongin keeps ice cream sandwiches in the fridge”

“Oh...no, I’m ok thanks”

You were absolutely going to have one later.

Giving a curt nod, he walked back to the kitchen to wash the dishes. After a few minutes he returned to the living room, shifting uneasily on his feet. He had this thoughtful, intense expression, almost searching. For what, you had no idea but it made you fidget nonetheless, breaking eye contact and pick at imaginary lint on your sweater.

You were about to make some excuse about needing to go back to the library - because you sure as hell weren’t going to stick around here - when he mumbled something about having papers to grade before disappearing down the hall to his room without another word.

A few more moments passed before you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Well, that’s that I guess.

“It went fine. He was...nice”

“Nice.”

“As nice as you can be with a stranger invading your space unnanounced.”

“So dramatic, it’s not like you two are strangers.”

“I don’t even think he knows my name.”

“We have all hung out loads of times before-”

“I have spoken to him more in the last 12 hours than I have in the last 12 months”

“And who’s fault is that? If anything, that's progress, you should be thanking me. Kyungsoo’s a hoot”

You leveled her with a look.

“...have I told you how much I love you today?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Had this in my drafts for over 2 years. Hoping by posting I’ll be motivated to actually finish it~

#muse: kyungsoo #genre: romance #genre: smut #do kyungsoo #kyungsoo fanfic #kyungsoo imagine #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo #kyungsoo #length: chaptered

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jeongi · 4 years

Text

cabin fever | jjk (m)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jungkook x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 8k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | fluff. smut. mild angst. exf2l au (?)

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. oral sex (f + m receiving), fingering, unprotected floor sex (dongs better be wrapped irl), light dirty talk, very soft, fluffy smut. jungkook is sad, soft babie.

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | trapped in a cabin with your ex-best friend jungkook, you’re forced to overcome the fallout between you two.

↣ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | cabin fever

“We're lost!” Seokjin shouts dramatically from behind the wheel. “Hopelessly and forever lost!” The van’s radio crackles and pops as the soft ooze of music sits underneath your friends’ bantering.

“You're such a baby,” says Namjoon as he smacks Seokjin with the map he's holding. “Relax. I know my maps.”

“You've only been here all of one time—” Seokjin spits back, his fingers clenching the wheel harder. You chuckle under your breath at their bickering, your body immediately tensing as you feel Jungkook adjust himself next to you. A part of you wonders if he’s still alive; you have no idea how he’s managed to sleep through the endless bickering- yet, there he sat, still snoring away. If you remembered correctly, Jungkook was almost impossible to wake up.

You ask yourself why you still felt somewhat nervous in Jungkook’s presence, and for the upteenth time, your memory reminds you of that giant nothingness that now separated you two.

Hoseok giggles behind you and your mood dampens further. His excessive, unwarranted giddiness irritates you on any given day, but today it seems extra warranted. How could you not feel irritated when your ex boyfriend is sat behind you, practically playing grab-ass with his new girlfriend?

You ask yourself again why you ever agreed to come on this trip, let alone agree to be stuffed in a van with an ex-boyfriend and an ex-best friend. And once again, you come up empty. You're sure there must be a reason.

“Hey, focus on the road!” Jyo-en shrills from the seat directly behind Namjoon. “Some of us want to arrive alive and unharmed.” Jungkook once again shifts in his seat, his shoulder pressing against your own and his mouth wide open. You can faintly hear the purrs of soft snoring escaping him.

Alas, your motives come to light. Frankly, you knew you were doing this as a favour to Jyo-en more than anything else. Her undying, one-sided pining after Seokjin had her on her knees begging you to go on this trip with her. There wasn't much that could ever reduce Jyo-en to such a state, but her affection for Seokjin's masculine wiles had been too much for her to bear. The fucker was just too damn charming and you couldn’t blame her either. From the broad expanse of his muscular shoulders, to the plump of his pink, full lips, you figure the chaos that naturally comes from his presence is usually heavily subdued by the sheer epitome of beauty that is Kim Seokjin.

Nonetheless, you had agreed to come on this trip, much against your initial refusal.

“Pipe down back there,” Namjoon shoots. “It could be worse.”

“Yeah,” says Hoseok, “Namjoon could be driving.”

Involuntarily, you snort. It isn't so much the humour that prompts such a response, but the bitterness you can't help but feel. However, that response is lost amidst the sea of laughter that now fills the van, save yours, Namjoon’s and a sleeping Jungkook’s.

Namjoon turns in his seat and glares at Hoseok. “Just because I don't have a license doesn't mean I can't drive.”

Seokjin chortles. “You literally almost drove us straight off a cliff the one time I let you drive.”

“You’re being dramatic. It wasn't even that tall a cliff…”

Beside you, Jungkook smacks his lips in his sleep, and sinks his shoulder further into yours. You absentmindedly wonder what he’s dreaming about.

Do you even care? Probably not. But the mental exercise in speculation offers some respite from the storm of emotion slowly and undeniably building within you. You glance back at Hoseok and Nancy, their disgusting buffet of PDA having no regard for anyone but themselves. You know for a fact you and Hoseok would have never done this. Turning away, your eyes once again fall on Jungkook.

You hope it's a dream better than this.

2:04pm [You]: ugh.

2:05pm [Yoongi]: Lol. What’s wrong?

2:07pm [You]: remind me again why i couldn't come tomorrow with you guys?

2:10pm [Yoongi]: Dude we've been over this, you couldn't swap spots with Jimin because he works tonight. It's the entire reason we're leaving tomorrow

2:10pm [Yoongi]: Is it that bad?

2:14pm [You]: between hoseok munching on his new gf and jungkook literally speaking to everyone but me,,, i’d say this is the car ride from hell

2:15pm [Yoongi]: Yikes

2:15pm [Yoongi]: Sounds about right, but I don't know what I can do from here...

2:25pm [You]: it’s whatever, tell jimin and tae i miss them dearly

2:26pm [Yoongi]: I’ll probably forget

2:27pm [You]: you’re the fucking worst.

You sigh heavily and lock your phone, haphazardly flinging it back into your lap. The van door opens with a whoosh and your eyes immediately squint against the intense albedo that now renders you temporarily blind.

“Did you just fucking hiss?” Seokjin asks, no trace of humour in his voice. You shoot him a silencing glare and he plays along to it, his hand shooting up to his chest as he fakes a few stumbles back. The effort to make you smile is that of triumph, the edges of your lips quirking up to a faint smile. Nonplussed, Seokjin continues. “Well, this is it!” He says with far too much enthusiasm for have driven nearly six hours. He reaches down towards the duffle bag by your feet and you swallow the bubble of discomfort that fills you when Nancy squeals behind you.

“This cabin is huge!” Her voice reminds you of Polystyrene rubbing together. It pierces your skull, scorches the skin on the back of your neck and you internally scream. Hoseok chuckles beside her and you can’t help but want to gouge out your eyeballs with a screwdriver.

When Seokjin swings the navy blue bag over his shoulder, his eyes briefly glance towards the still sleeping figure next to you, his face static in the grips of slumber.

“Hey!” Without warning, a red glove speeds past your face and smacks Jungkook in the nose with a surprisingly satisfying thwack. Immediately, Jungkook jolts awake, shooting you an accusing glare so icy, the snow around you may as well be a sunny beach. Before either of you can react, the glove’s partner in crime follows and smacks him in the face again. “Well, good morning, sleepy beauty,” jeers Seokjin. “Now that you're alive, how about you start helping us move our stuff?”

Blinking in the new light before his eyes, Jungkook sighs explosively, half yawn, half exclamation.

“It’s sleeping beauty, you imbecile.” You think you hear him grumble under his breath. A part of you wishes he’d acknowledge you again like old times. Another- and you convince yourself, a greater- part of you simply cannot be bothered to care anymore.

“I think that’s the last of it!” Namjoon yells from the trunk of the van. You hear him close it with a loud thud, one arm holding a cooler, the other locking the trunk. Seokjin stands by the porch of the cabin, nodding approvingly at the progress. He checks his watch.

“I’m hungry,” he says, “Should we go into town?”

You groan in protest. “Dude, we just got here. You want to hop back in a stuffy van and drive, again?”

“Yes,” he answers without a beat.

“Yup!” echoes Namjoon. You have no idea how he heard this.

“Ah, food would be so good,” Jyo-en says as she comes up from behind you, a hand patting her stomach and a frown adorning her face. You can't help but roll your eyes; she’s not hungry at all.

“Food it is,” Seokjin confirms. Despite the peckish feeling that jabbers at your stomach, you're not certain your appetite can handle another car ride with them so soon.

“You guys go ahead without me, I had a big breakfast this morning,” you lie.

“Suit yourself,” he says with a simple shrug of indifference. Turning away to head inside, you hear Seokjin yell for the others. You’re not sure where Hoseok and Nancy scurried off to, though the list of possibilities is disgustingly short. As if on cue, they near stumble out of the room they had chosen for the night, their lips swollen and clothing frayed. You think you’re going to be sick, and a subsequent twist of your innards does everything but confirm the sentiment.

You need to get out of here. You desperately need to get out of here.

As quietly as you can, you pull your boots on and stuff a spare water bottle in your jacket. The door before you opens, and with a breath, you crunch your way into the snow covered trees. You should have worn something warmer, you scold yourself as you cross your arms over your chest and blow out a huff of air.

The air is still- too still, you think. Even the melody of chickadees sound too far away. Your breath comes out in stiff clouds, hanging seconds in the air before fading away. You shove your nose deeper into your scarf as you aimlessly wander, allowing your thoughts to get as lost as you’re about to be.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost be convinced it was four years ago. The way the wind nips your face reminds you of waiting for the train at the worst possible hours of the morning, despite the fact you only had the one class that day.

The rest of the day was for the squad.

This could mean anything from half-attempted study sessions (in reality, a thinly veiled excuse to gossip about your classmates and munch on overpriced cafeteria food) to skipping down to the neighbourhood village just down the street from your university for the far better food that was just as expensive. It could mean sneaking off between classes to a quiet staircase and into Hoesoek’s arms for as many fleeting moments the two of you could steal in a day. It could mean a walk down to the university bar for curly fries and maybe one too many drinks. Sometimes it was the train ride home, hand in hand and falling asleep on each other’s shoulders.

The wind was just as cold as it has always been, but you haven’t been. Somewhere along the line, something had changed. A whole lot of somethings. At some point or another, it all just started to come crashing down until now you stand, here, in a snowy field standing ankle deep in fading memories.

You’d ask yourself how it managed to go to hell so much, so fast. But you don’t feel like opening that vault again— you’ve had it closed for good reason.

The piercing caw of a crow snaps you back to reality. Your eyes open, and the freezing train stations and too-warm classrooms fade away with the snowfall. You feel the first snowflake hit your cheek and when you look up, another hits your nose. Whichever way you go, whether it’s memory lane or the slow, cold walk back to the cabin, it’s going to be a bitch either way. It doesn’t take long for your boots to become soaked, and it takes even shorter for your toes to begin freezing. Your only regret is you find yourself wishing you’d have noticed it earlier; you were too preoccupied with watching the sun’s last stretch across the mountaintops.

Your laugh is what Jungkook remembers the most as you two walked towards the train station on those cold winter mornings. The light fragrance of your perfume that overpowered the icy winds had always made you feel like home to him. And your laugh, the thing he missed the most. When was the last time he’d seen you smile? When was the last time he’d even talked to you? It seems a lifetime ago now.

Jungkook’s fingers hesitantly hold the black pen against his sketchpad as he allows the natural skill of his hand overtake the paper. The desk he’s sat on faces towards the blanket of white snow against a crisp blue sky. He sighs, the view of the mountain sheathed in nothing but white bringing him back to old memories of you.

He can almost taste the pork bulgogi he’d always order at lunch with you. One look is all you had to give in order to silently invite him to eat after class. It was that cocked eyebrow, the slight tilt of the head and he was already transferring money into his bank account. And your scent- soft and subtle against the cold winter air. Even if his lungs were crystalized by the cool winter air, your perfumed scarf still lingered to his nose. You’d always felt somewhat like a distant lover than an old friend. What happened? He happened.

Just as Jungkook blasts his Spotify playlist through his earphones, you walk through the front door. Unbeknownst to you or him, the cause of your melancholy sits on the floor above you in his room. Your hands are freezing, a soft curse escaping your mouth as your teeth clatter and you stomp your way inside. You’re covered head to toe in snow, a sudden icy flurry hitting you on your way back. Perhaps a spontaneous walk down memory lane was one of your dumber ideas but if anything, it was nice to get away from this bullshit for even a little while. And by the looks of it, you’ll be able to escape a little while longer as you stand in the foyer of an empty cabin. You’re alone with your thoughts once again. How did you get here? You ask yourself a million times over.

Shrugging off the weight of your coat, you unravel your scarf and land with a loud sigh against the brown suede couch. It’s a cozy cabin, you’ll have to give Namjoon that much credit but his need to treat everyone as equal despite obvious differences landed you in this more than miserable situation. Your fingers hesitantly uncurl, the heat already uncoiling the ice in your veins. You reach for your phone, the only notification being a “Merry Christmas” email from your dentist. You almost laugh at yourself.

4:04pm [You]: yoongs, entertain me

No reply, instead a big fat, red “not delivered!” pops underneath the message. You frown, annoyed at the world and mostly Jyo-en for dragging you along this getaway from hell. On top of this, the three people you’ve been wanting to see and talk to the most in the world won’t be arriving for another excruciating twenty-four hours. Old Man Winter chuckles to himself as he prolongs your misery.

Jungkook is mindlessly working upstairs, watching the flurry of snow coat the mountains and area around the cabin further. If it weren’t for the gentle ooze of Keshi in his ears, he’d be concerned by the rapid snowfall. His hand works diligently, his sketch near finished as he watches the sun set outside. Somewhere between the last of his shading and perfecting does the lamp in his room suddenly give out.

Silence.

You freeze as the world surrounding you goes absolutely still. The sound of heat coming through the vents stops, the lights flicker off and you’re approaching darkness as the sun settles outside. Fuck, you think to yourself. This could not be happening.

Reaching for your phone, your fingers clamour as you hastily give Namjoon a call.

Straight to voicemail.

You try Seokjin; it doesn’t even ring.

Panic settles over you, your flight or fight kicking in as you think of what to possibly do. You scour the main floor for a landline, anything that could be of use in this situation. Surely there was a maintenance number somewhere? It’s when you’re in the kitchen that you hear the footsteps above you. You freeze again.

Now you’re almost positive it’s an intruder ready to murder you. Like in those horrible, terrible horror movies. Although you’ve played a lot of Outlast, you doubt you could handle whatever the fuck has spawned upstairs. As the footsteps shuffle some more, you grab a knife from the counter and decide if you should wait to be murdered or move towards the sound like every idiot in those movies. But just as you’re deciding, the steps move rapidly down the stairs until you’ve panicked and dropped your knife, shrieking out of pure terror with your eyes shut.

Jungkook stares at you in complete bewilderment.

“_____?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows strewn together in genuine concern. His eyes fall to the knife on the floor, further confusion littering his mind. “Are you okay?”

The voice sounds familiar, too familiar and it pangs you to know exactly who it is.

Your heart plummets to your stomach when you tentatively open one eye and see Jungkook’s big doe eyes staring right back at you.

“Jungkook? What the hell are you doing here?” You put your hand to your chest and sigh a heavy breath of relief. “I fucking...thought…” You look back up at him, the furrow in his eyebrows suddenly flooring you with emotion. You haven’t really looked at him in ages, it feels.

“You didn’t go with the others?” His lips form an innocent pout as he asks. You haven’t realized how much you missed his boyish charm. It’s then that you find yourself observing him head to toe for the first time in a long time. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and (unintentionally, you convince yourself), the plaid red pajama bottoms you got him for Christmas three years ago. Is that how long it’s been since you’ve last spoken? He looks different, more confident, more tone in his body. Although his hair remains the same shade of brunette, it’s slightly longer and rests in natural curls. His jawline is even sharper, you note. From the small mole just under his lip to the faint cleft in his chin, you find yourself completely absorbed in how good looking Jungkook has gotten.

“N-no,” you’re suddenly stuttering as you catch yourself out of flagrant staring. “I thought you did—”

“Nope.” The tension brews around you two, both of you stood across from one another as sudden realization dawns on you.

“The power’s out,” you say and Jungkook nods in agreement. You really didn’t think this day could get any worse yet here you were. “I-I tried calling Namjoon but it wouldn’t go through.” Jungkook taps his pointer finger to his lower lip in consideration.

“Phone lines must be out too,” he said half to himself. “Must be a hell of a blizzard out there.” You shudder involuntarily as you remember the way the wind tore through you on the return journey to the cabin, and with the memory comes the bittersweet nostalgia…

You mentally stomp the memories out. Not the time, not the place. Not anymore.

“Well, I don’t want to starve,” you say as you start to feel your stomach glare at you hungrily. Maybe you should have gone with them after all. An image of Hoseok and Nancy sucking face flashes before you. You shudder again. It might still be hell here, but at least it isn’t a hell so deep as watching them. Besides, this is the most Jungkook has spoken to you in years.

“Fortunately, they left us with the food,” Jungkook says to you. “If memory serves correct there should at least be a box or three of smokies floating around somewhere.” He pulls on a sweater and rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm them up.

“What about the fire?” You ask.

“What about it?”

“Well, I don’t know. Can you start one?” You know for a fact you might be able to, but this isn��t the time for you to test your skills.

“Probably. It isn’t exactly rocket science,” he replies with a smart grin. There’s a small door just under the staircase that Jungkook opens with little to no hesitation. You had always admired how unafraid of the world Jungkook had always been. Perhaps those values washed away when he too walked out of your life.

You snap yourself out of it and roll your eyes. “Jungkook, you’re the least handyman person I know.”

“At least I’m remembered for something,” he replies as he dips below the stairs to search for wood.

You damn near have to stop yourself from smiling.

You’re not certain if it’s just the natural dynamic you shared with him, or if it’s completely circumstantial, but one thing was for certain; like it or not, you found the pair of you swiftly falling back in step with one another in more ways than you’d care to admit… and more ways than you’d care to remember.

It’s almost as if he hadn’t just chosen to vanish from your life for nearly three years. It’s almost as if it were like old times. What had happened to you guys? Why did he stop calling you?

For the umpteenth time, you snap yourself away from this. It’s too late. There’s no use in thinking of the past. You sigh and return to the kitchen, scouring, searching every cabinet and square surface for candles and matches.

A heartbeat or three passes, and a clonking of feet on wood alerts you to Jungkook’s return.

“I've got good news and bad news,” He huffs as he steps back onto the main floor from the cellar.

“Oh, god,” you start. You feel a slight panic coming on again.

“Good news?” He hefts a frayed and worn burlap bag. “I found firewood.”

“And the bad news?” You ask tentatively.

He feigns sadness before he brings out two giant bottles of cabernet sauvignon from behind his back. “There's all this wine, and nobody around to drink it,” he finishes. “Except us, naturally.”

For however brief a moment it was, you knew for certain that the flash in his eyes, the quick smile he now wore, you hadn't seen for years. It seems as though, if only for a split second, the old Jungkook had returned. Somehow sensing your revelation, the moment passes as swiftly as it came, and then a stone faced Jungkook returns.

“I-if you want to, anyway.” The coolness returns without indication, a coolness you are now determined to thaw out.

“I’m insulted you even think you have to ask,” you return playfully. A hint of colour returns to his cheeks, and a fraction of a grin returns. Silently, he sets about starting the fire while you work on opening the wine.

It takes you a second to realize that the wine is in fact corked, and you had not a corkscrew between the two of you. You glance at Jungkook, his back still turned to you, rubbing two sticks together or something. You really don’t know, and he doesn’t share; in fact, he seems quite absorbed in his work.

You glance back at the wine bottle. Taking the lapse in effort, you ask yourself if this was really worth doing- if this was even a good idea.

“Aha!” You hear a whoosh followed by a golden radiance that now permeates the space. “And that,” Jungkook turns towards you, grin wide and proud, “is how you start a fire.”

You’re not only warm, but impressed- leave it to Jungkook to be perfect in literally every department. You suppose he hasn’t lost that talent yet.

Though the feeling of pride quickly fades as you see the can of body spray in one of his hands and a lighter in the other. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, silently calling him out on his middle school arson methods.

“It was ah, taking too long,” he adds sheepishly, rolling the can of body spray towards the corner and playfully tossing the lighter at you.

“Seokjin is going to kill you.”

“What for? Theft of his lighter, or his outrageous body spray? If anything, I’m doing him a favour…how are you making out with the wine?”

“We… don’t have a corkscrew,” you reply somewhat dejectedly. That half-serious face comes about his visage once more as you see him wracking his brain, trying to solve the problem.

His grin returns. “Don’t worry,” Jungkook says after a minute. “I have an idea.”

“What a waste of a fucking match, oh my God!” You’re sure to sound extra exasperated as you watch Jungkook wrap the loose piece of twine around the neck of wine bottle.

“Do you want to drink or not? Let me work my magic…” Jungkook wears determination on his face, a tongue poking out, eyebrows scrunched together as he ties it once, twice until you’re sure even a wine bottle could choke. You watch as he carefully takes a match and strikes it with the expertise of a pyrotechnic turned for the better. With little hesitation, he lights the twine on fire, a burning noose around the neck of the wine bottle. It doesn’t take ten seconds for the glass to crack open. He’s two for two; at this point, you find yourself enjoying his company more and more.

You’re honestly mesmerized. “How…?” You ask. He lets out a soft chuckle, barely audible.

“It’s magic,” you hear him say as he shrugs. “I don’t have to explain shit.” Another eye roll later, you’re returning to the kitchen and opening the cabinet above the sink in search of wine glasses. To no avail, you find stainless steel coffee mugs instead.

“Is this even safe to drink out of? I won’t choke on microscopic shards of glass?” You ask Jungkook after your third and fourth glasses. It’s a little too late to be asking such a question but you’re sure at this point, your words are a little slurred and nothing quite makes sense. Inwardly, you realize it’s a moot point anyway, and with that realization comes that for the first time in longer than you can remember, you’re just trying to strike up a conversation with him.

It’s hard not to when Jungkook has planted a pile of pillows and blankets in front of the fire, the pair of you sat and drinking potentially lethal wine. Before you lies half-finished board games you two attempted to play yet failed due to sheer anger at the game itself or each other. You’re sure if you were sober, this would be a lot more difficult.

“Magic, _____.” Jungkook slurs, his cheeks flushed and that half grin he does so well. Despite a certain flutter in your chest, you scoff into your mug of wine, small bubbles splashing back onto your upper lip.

“Magic?” You nearly spit. “This isn’t Harry Potter, Jungkook. How exactly do you personally quantify magic?”

A quiet moment passes as he swirls the final dregs of wine in his cup thoughtfully.

“I’d define it as the things you do to me, actually,” he replies before downing the rest of his cup.

Are you hearing things right? Did that actually come out of his mouth? Is this happening? You glance at your own cup. What the fuck is this wine, anyway? You’re drunk. Both of you are.

Jungkook stands and reaches for the bottle, filling up his cup before topping up your own. You still sit in a stunned silence, observing as he tosses another log into the fire, a shower of sparks floating up the chimney.

“Wh… Where did that come from?” You manage. He waves his hand dismissively, breaking eye contact a moment.

“Next question?” He asks as he sips.

Feeling bolder now, you pursue. He isn’t getting away that easily.

“Okay. I’ll put it another way.” You pause to sip, the confidence now flowing nominally through your system. “What exactly happened to us?” There, you’ve asked it.

A silence now spreads the two of you apart, despite the lack of inherent distance between you two presently. Now it seems to be Jungkook’s turn to be stunned into silence.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing this entire time,” he replies. The stone is slowly creeping up to his face.

“You can do better than that,” you egg him on.

“What, now you believe in me?” He shoots back. The venom in his words would take you off guard if it weren’t for how earnest his was before you. He drinks again, gulping this time. He must be on his sixth glass now. You can see the same sentiment in his eyes that you hold in your heart; a universal now-or-never. This is the chance to lay the cards on the table. You know it’s going to hurt, but you know it’s necessary. He rises slowly to his feet, swaying ever so slightly from the wine.

“How about you tell me what happened to us, _____?” Jungkook almost shouts. “We used to be close. We told each other everything. I used to stay up late just to make sure you got home from class or work, I made sure you ate your meals, that your homework was completed. I cared. We both did. Maybe a bit too much...” With this, he sighs explosively and flops down onto the dusty couch behind you, his chin resting on his hand. “We used to be something. I don't know what, but it was there. And now?” He waves an arm absentmindedly towards the window. “Nothing but cold.” The irony, you think. But it's an irony that's been a long time coming, and a certain sick irony that could only come from him.

But the question sticks with you, more than you'd care to admit. Something had slapped you deep inside, and even still it reverberated within you.

No, you're not going to stand here and take this.

“You tell me what happened, Jungkook.” You uncross your legs and rise to your feet, striding towards him. “You stopped texting, calling. You stopped wanting to hang out, and suddenly there was this wall between us. You never even told me what I did.”

For a moment, he looks hurt, as though a thousand predisposed assumptions has just come hurtling down. He regains his composure, though barely, and through shaken words, he continues.

“No, _____.” His face softens. “It isn't what you did. It isn't anything you did, not really.” He's nervous now; his knee bounces, his jaw clenches. You're fairly certain he's beginning to sweat.

What isn't he telling you?

“Tell me,” you whisper. No venom now, merely curiosity, and perhaps a hint of something more. Your hand finds its way onto his own, and your fingers slowly curl around his palm. Contrary to your assumptions, his hand remains there. Even more surprising, his hand reverses and his fingers interlace with your own. A heartbeat passes, and his eyes meet yours.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, _____. I don’t think either of us did anything wrong. Passing ships in the night? Too little, too late? Just bad timing, is that all? Hell if I know.” He takes a deep swig of the wine. “We vibed. Hard. Everything about us was natural and made sense.” You have to agree with this, even now, not talking after so long- you two felt real, felt right.

“No, Jungkook, that’s bullshit and we both know it!” You insist. “You stopped putting in the effort, you stopped wanting to be in my life, you….” It hurts you, a sinking feeling in your chest as you choke out your words. “You wouldn’t even look in my direction the past however long ago it was that you decided to walk away from my life without a single warning.” Perhaps it’s because you’re drunk that tears spring. It’s a deep-seated memory that you’ve brought back, a confrontation that you had always convinced yourself would never happen. “And I don’t even get an explanation why?” This whole situation had to have happened for a reason, you drunkenly tell yourself. If fate really was real, this moment would be its poster child.

Jungkook is staring at you with a look you can’t quite read. You can’t quite decide if he’s about to cry with you or angrily escape this situation. Instead, he places his cup on the wooden coffee table and stands up. His walk towards you in confident, as if he’s ready to expel whatever it is that riddled him in shades of torture for as long as it did. He takes your hands, a slight shake in the way he grasps them.

“I couldn’t stand seeing you with him,” he blurts.

A moment passes, your eyes unleaving as you try and process the weight of his words in your scrambled, drunken mess of a mind. You with who? Hoseok?

“Him?” You find yourself repeating. “Why would you…”

Jungkook sighs and lets your hands go, his fingers moving up to rake his brunette locks away from his face. He’s definitely sweating, you note.

“Wasn’t it obvious, _____?

“B-but what about after we broke up, you could’ve—”

“Could’ve what?” He laughs humorously. “Could have gone back to the way it was before?” He cranes his neck to the side, the palm of his hand rubbing against the skin. “It doesn’t work like that, _____. I’m selfish for you but not that selfish. Staying away was better anyway... neither of us would get hurt.”

But you were hurt, hurt more than the break up itself because at the end of the day, all you wanted was your best friend and even he had left. “You’re such an idiot.” You can’t help but say. “Stupid, stupid idiot. How could you do that?” You want to punch him, slap him as hard as you can for him to feel any amount of equivalence in physical pain that he gave you in emotional pain. All those nights you had laid wondering what you did wrong had all been for nothing?

Your frown deepens, more questions than ever before emerging. “You liked me?” Had you ever even thought of him as more than a friend? You’re not sure you should even be asking these questions with vigour liquor coursing through your veins yet, you remind yourself that the liquid courage has brought you two here thus far.

Jungkook laughs once more, no strain of humour in the vibrato. “That’s an understatement.” He then mumbles and you’re left racking your brain. For a brief second, it makes perfect sense before you completely lose your train of thought. “Besides,” he continues. “There’s no point in thinking what could have happened, I just—” There’s a pause as his chocolates in his doe eyes search yours for something. “Will you just let me kiss you right now?”

This takes you wholeheartedly off guard, your eyes widen as you speak with hesitance. “Y-you want to kiss me?”

“I’ve always wanted to, _____.” How does this phrase create such a powerful flutter in your chest? You wonder if it’s the alcohol or maybe, just maybe, a deep-rooted longing you;d never known you had in you.

Without answering his question, you kiss him first.

As your fingers reach for his face, Jungkook grapples your waist. You feel tiny in the palm of his hands, he thinks as he feels your lips against his for the first time. Jungkook feels as if he’s dreaming- perhaps the alcohol has something to do with that.

Red wine is what you taste the most, mixed with a subtle sweetness of mint. You drown in him, melt against him as he carefully engulfs you into his arms. The fireplace warming the space around is nothing in comparison to the sudden inferno in your chest. It’s then that you realize, this is what you’ve wanted all along.

Your hand slides down Jungkook’s face to his chest. He feels broad underneath your fingertips, a certain firmness to the touch that you hadn’t expected. He only brings you closer, arms wrapping around your torso as his lips press against you harder. His tongue is soft with your own, a gentle roll with your own as a certain heat builds up in your core.

Suddenly, it’s messier. Jungkook’s tongue swipes your bottom lip before planting a soft bite. It releases a whimper from you, earning a quiet groan from him. You’ve never thought this day would come. Are you dreaming?

When you pull away, Jungkook’s full attention is on you only. He runs a thumb over your wine-stained pout, his eyes large and completely enveloped in the sight of you. “I never thought I would get to kiss these lips.” He says.

You moan and lean in for another.

No matter how much your lips fuse together, how much you press yourself against his stronger hold, you cannot get enough nor do you want this to end. It feels right, comfortable to be in his embrace like this, his mouth against yours and chests connected. It’s not long before you’re both succumbing to the fall on your knees against the self-made bed Jungkook made of old blankets and pillows. It’s cozy, neither of you wasting time to run upstairs to a proper bed. You think this is the most romantic setting you could have ever hoped for.

It’s when you’re suddenly on top of Jungkook that you feel a growth settle underneath your core. You feel the sheer girth of it as your kissing intensifies, two large hands coming to rest upon your thighs as they persuade your hips to skim over it. You gasp at the feeling, sure that you’re already soaked beyond measure. It’s not hard for you to already feel him like this, the thin veil of his pajama bottoms being the only barrier away from you having it in you. The thought arouses you far too much, leading to a harsher grind that has you both moan out. You haven’t been touched in a long while.

Jungkook’s hands travel up your sides until he’s cupped both of your cheeks in each palm. Your lips are guided once again to his own as he places a hard kiss against you. With each fleeting moment, your want for him intensifies. You can’t help but think this was meant to be, that you’ve wanted this somewhere deep within you. Perhaps the old you was looking out for the future you.

It’s with both hesitance and confidence that Jungkook inches your sweater up. His hands feel warm against your bare torso, a shiver running through you when they lazily travels up and down your sides. As you pull away, Jungkook gives you that lopsided grin you hadn’t realized you’ve missed dearly until this moment. It almost feels as if nothing has changed, as if there hadn’t been a giant nothingness between you two for so long.

“You look so beautiful.” Jungkook whispers, his right hand reaching to push a strand of hair away from your face. He helps you guide your shirt off before a thumb strokes your cheek, and then your lips. You softly bite it and receive a contempt groan in response.

“Yours too,” you gently urge as you play with the hem of his white shirt. Jungkook grins and lifts his torso before pulling the fabric over his head. He does not hesitate to kiss you again.

With each kiss, the intensity grows until you’re sure you’ve caused a puddle in your pants as you shamelessly grind your cunt against a very erect bulge in Jungkook’s pants. He feels so firm, more built than you could have ever imagined as he pulls you tighter against him. You’re slowly losing your mind before you decide to take the initiative.

“Jungkook,” you mumble against his mouth.

“Hm?”

“Let me taste you.” Jungkook nearly unravels just from those words alone.

“Yeah?” You nod, a coy smile spreading across your face as surely a heavy blush riddles your cheeks in a crimson red. Jungkook merely chuckles, planting a feverish kiss against your mouth. “You’re so adorable.”

You trail kisses down his torso, the definition of muscles in his abdomen driving you absolutely mad. You’re still unable to fully comprehend what exactly was happening yet you’re equally unable to stop yourself. Jungkook helps you get rid of his pants, your mouth instantly watering when his erection lands against his torso with a soft thwack. It glistens against the golden aura surrounding you. He cocks his head to the side. “Think you can take it?”

If that’s a challenge you hear in his tone, it’s a challenge you’re willing to take. You might even think Jungkook remembers how competitive you are. You move down his body with ease before placing a tentative lick against the head of his cock. Jungkook’s hands immediately surrender to your hair, moving it out of your face until he’s made a makeshift ponytail out of his own hands.

“Fuuuck,” he drags out shakily when you take the whole of his head in your mouth. You suck just under his head, a certain ball of nerves that drives Jungkook absolutely mad. The hold he has on your hair acts as an invisible guide, in motion with his hips lifting does he simultaneously move your head down. “Just like that, baby.” You groan against his cock as you take more of him in your mouth. Jungkook is thick, girthy with a prominent vein that sits right where your tongue can trace it. He’s losing himself further and further into you as you begin a steady motion of sucking. Your hand holds the base of his cock as your mouth works wonders, earning you whimpers and curses from him. “So good, so good.” Jungkook gasps when you pick up the pace. It’s when he feels himself really about to lose control that he pulls you away from his cock, a satisfying pop following the disconnect.

“C’mere,” he murmurs before smashing his lips against yours. Though your lips are coated in saliva, his kisses have become sloppier, rougher as he cradles your torso with one arm before flipping you until you’re underneath him. “These have to go.” He pulls at your pants and you giggle with agreeance.

“That would be ideal.”

Jungkook undoes the buttons before tugging them down your legs. You’ve now got nothing on but your bra, a pale violet with a lacy trim on the top. Did you subconsciously know you were going to get fucked by none other than Jeon Jungkook today?

He pulls your legs apart, a satisfied hum escaping him as your glistening folds welcome him. “Fuck, _____.” He whispers as his thumb skims over your wetness. You suck in a sharp breath, the callous on his thumb sensitive against your cunt. You want him to touch you there.

It’s as if he can read your mind, the thumb now dragging over your clit. The sigh of relief you give only fuels Jungkook’s satisfaction more. He too would like to taste you.

You cry out, hands grappling for his torso as he begins circling the thumb over your sensitive nub. “So wet,” he groans.

“J-just for you.” This makes Jungkook move faster with his thumb. He wants to feel you. Jungkook slowly slides the defts of his index and middle finger into you, your cry filling the space. He takes his time, feeling your walls clench around his digits as his thumb simultaneously circles over your clit. He’s amazed by how each thrust of his fingers causes you to coat them farther in your arousal. And you’re amazed by how soon you’re about to come. It only makes his own erection angrier and your cunt clench tighter.

“You coming, baby?” Never would Jungkook have thought he’d get to call you baby. You nod with vigour, each pump of his finger along with the relentless rub of his fingers causing your legs to shake.

“S-so fucking close...oh my god.” You’re coming, you’re coming, you’re— “Jungkook!”

He dips his head in between your thighs, his mouth instantly suctioned to your clit as his fingers continue their torture. With his tongue replacing his thumb, you come undone almost instantly, the wave of pure white, hot filth overtaking your entire body. You shudder, legs trembling as your fingers thread through the lush of Jungkook’s brown locks. Jungkook continues licking against your clit, flicking and sucking until you can no longer take it.

“F-fuck me, Jungkook- please,” you beg as your cunt craves for more. You want absolutely all of him.

Jungkook’s cock is ready, heavy against his palm as he takes ahold of the base and spreads your legs apart. His mouth is wet with your arousal, his chest littered with beads of sweat. “Your pussy looks so fucking good.” He remarks, letting the pink tip of his dick rub against your wet folds. You both moan at the sensation.

With one more rub of his head, he lines himself against your entrance and slowly pushes his hips forward. You think you could come instantly again. Jungkook’s cock feels amazing, full as your tightness grips with so deliciously, even he has to hold himself back from not undoing quickly.

“Fuck.” You let out as you place a hand on his chest, letting the feel of his cock overtake your entire body. He stops when he’s reached the hilt, careful to rock his hips out before slamming them back into you. You can’t help but cry his name out. “You feel so good.” You’re whimpering, the hand on his chest and moving to the back of his neck as you push his head forward to kiss you. He follows suit, beginning a rhythmic pace of his hips as you lose yourself further and further into him.

Jungkook kisses you feverishly, hot and wet against your mouth as he continues to rick in and out of you. His breaths are laboured, filthy words and curses escaping him as you clench around him with each thrust.

“Yeah, baby?” You’re losing your mind, already close to a second undoing. You know you’re going to come again soon. Jungkook takes your legs and places your ankles on his shoulder, plummeting into you with a force so delicious, you’re about to go delirious. You’re so tight, Jungkook can feel himself edging closer to his own end. “Fuck, turn around for me.” You do as requested, turning to your stomach. Jungkook pulls your ass up towards him and lines himself up once again. Without hesitation this time, he pushes into you, a new type of fullness that overtakes your innards. He feels so fucking good.

It’s a steady rock, your ass hitting against his pelvis as he continues a continuous motion with his hips. He’s relentless in his movements, the new position allowing him to reach deeper, feeling you clench tighter.

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook is moaning out. He grabs a handful of your ass, using it as support while he rams into you with no plans of slowing down. The room is filled with the sound of your skin slapping and your deep breath and moans. Jungkook knows he’s so close.

He reaches forward, first and second digit immediately gravitating towards your clit. As he rubs, the familiar rubber band stretches in the pit of your guts. You’re going to come again, you feel it.

It’s when Jungkook whispers into your ear how much he wants to come inside you, that you give out. It washes over you, makes you tighten your grip on the blanket underneath you as you clench so hard around Jungkook that he too comes with you. You feel the spurts of him fill you to the brim until you’re nothing but a puddle underneath him. You lay still, letting his fluid mixed with yours dribble out of you as Jungkook pulls out. It burns to have him away from you. You want him to hold you all night.

“Was that okay?” Jungkook asks, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. You nod in reassurance, twisting your head around so he can kiss your lips.

It’s then that your phone blares, taking you both by surprise. You rush to your feet, arms reaching for your phone when you see Namjoon’s name flash across your screen.

“Hello?” You answer with no thought.

“_____! Oh my god! Are you okay? There was a huge storm, we’re trapped in town until Monday- did I ask if you were okay? I think Yoongi—” The line fizzles out.

There’s a pause as you look at a curious Jungkook.

“It looks like we’ll be here a while.”

a/n: hey babies! so sorry for the long wait for this one! i really hope you liked it! it’s been in the works for a little while haha. this is my first fic back in a WHILE! and more to come soon! let me know what you think as per usual. i love you so much!!!!!!! and happy holidays to you, your friends and families ✨💞

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts #bangtan smut #oneshot #fic #kpop

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

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Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: You Didn’t Get to Heaven But, You Made it Close

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Language, Fighting, possible typos, hospital scenes

-Words: 4.6K

Chapter 4: You Didn’t Get to Heaven But, You Made it Close

Words: 4.6K

The night was a typical one at the Holland household. Earlier that night, Rosie helped you cook dinner, spaghetti and meatballs, a Holland family dinner favorite. Dinner was quiet, Tom had been ignoring Parker for multiple reasons, mainly the ultimatum but also he was still angered by the recklessness of his son the other night.

Only the sound of slight flickering of the chandelier candles, could be heard. It was a deafening silence that consumed them. No one wanting to speak up and risk and argument forming. Dinner ended quicker than it began and everyone excused themselves.

Tom and you sat by the fire in the living room while their kids closed themselves off for the night. Not giving another thought to their kids. Little did they know, Parker had a date that night. And after dinner ceased, planned his escape.

“Tommy, I think it’s about time we turn in,” you said.

“Y/N, I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Tom whispered with a somber voice.

“About what baby?”

“Parker. The threat. Everything,” Tom was beyond stressed at the moment.

“Shh, we’ll figure it out. We always do,” you said rubbing the back of Tom’s head and Tom nodded in response

“Now come on, why don’t I put your mind at ease,” you whispered seductively.

“Are you talking about some good lovin’?” Tom inquired moving his eyebrows up and down.

“You’re such a dork. I was, we’ll see now.”

“Aww don’t be like that, you’re such a tease.” “Oh you love it,” you said. “Yes, I do,” Tom shouted following you up the stairs.

“I think I’m going to take a shower, care to join me?” You exclaimed cheekily.

“Love, you don’t have ask me twice” Tom said. How could you be anymore perfect? The day ended even more perfectly.

After they showered, you both changed into wannabe pajamas, for you, a tank top and some shorts and Tom wore a pair of boxers. They were all set to watch a little TV and hop under the covers when tiredness overcame them, falling asleep in each others arms. Absolutely content with everything in your life, everyone in the family was safe, nothing had come of the note yet.

“I love you, darling,” Tom whispered pressing his lips to your hairline.

You were already fast asleep. How did he get, you, this amazing woman to fall in love with him? The night soon fell into pitch darkness, however Tom’s phone ringing, startling him out of his deep sleep.

“Hello?” Tom answered it with a groggy voice.

“Is this Mr. Holland, father of Parker Holland?” A woman on the other line spoke.

“Yes, this is. Who the fuck is this?” Tom said rather rudely just being woken up.

“Sir, I’m calling from Kingston Memorial Hospital. Your son has been involved in an accident.”

“Fuck, I’m on my way.” Tom muttered as he hung up

“Angel wake up, something is wrong with Parker,” Tom whispered, shaking you awake.

“Tommy, what? What’s wrong?” You muttered as you stirred awake.

“Just get dressed.” Tom said.

Driving like a madman and disregarding all traffic signals, they all eventually arrived at the hospital. Not giving anything else a second thought.

They all piled into the Rolls Royce. Tom drove, for the first time in a long time, always having someone drive him. You sat in the passenger seat, clutching Tom’s hand and hoping to god your baby boy was okay.

You hadn’t even bothered to wear proper clothes, you wore mix-matched shoes, shorts, a tank top and an overcoat to stay warm. Rosie was like her mother, only wearing a hoodie and pajama bottoms. Tom on the other hand was more put together, wearing a regular t-shirt and pants along with the same pair of shoes, unlike, you, his wife.

Barging through the sliding doors, Tom made his presence known.

“Parker Holland, where is he?” Tom screamed as he marched up to the receptionist.

“I’m sorry sir, hold on a moment,” the nurse clad in light blue scrubs said.

“NO! Fuck this. Parker Holland, tell me where the fuck he is before I blow your brains out.” Tom shouted and flashed his pistol.

“Alright Sir, just please put the gun away,” the nurse pleaded.

“He is in room 202,” she concluded.

“Thank you, come on Tommy,” you replied, pulling your husband away.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the moment you saw your baby boy lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

“I’m sorry, are you family?” asked the doctor as everyone funneled in the room.

“Yes, we are his parents,” Tom concluded

“I’m his sister,” Rosie spoke up, trying not to be forgotten.

“Good. Parker has a mild concussion, a few broken ribs, and he came in with a ruptured spleen which was taken care of during surgery. The anesthesia should be wearing off any moment now,” the doctor explained.

“Parker? Baby? It’s mommy. Please wake up,” you whispered to your son while petting his head, trying not cry at his busted lip and swollen eye.

“Mr. Holland? Sorry to disturb you but, the police would like to talk with you” a nurse informed Tom. Tom nodded with a blank expression, not letting his eyes stray away from his son.

“Follow me, sir,” the nurse concluded as she led him out of the room.

“Mom, is Parker going to be okay?” Rosie inquired. “I hope so” you responded with a hoarse voice from crying. Rosie wrapped her arms around you, comforting you,

You were so used to you being the one waking up in a hospital bed. At first, dating Tom and eventually marrying him, put a huge target on your back. Never experiencing the crippling fear of losing the one you love most.

Meanwhile, Tom was conversing with the cops who were on the scene. “Sir, your son was a victim to an assault that happened earlier at The Luxe, a nightclub downtown,” explained one of the cops. They stood tall, attempting to act macho but failing. The notorious mobster scared them. The stories, alone, spread on the street was enough to make a grown man soil his pants.

One of them was a man around age 45, looked like he had a pension and drove a hybrid car. Old but tried too hard to be young again. The other was a woman, rather young, possibly new to force. Both of them oblivious to man they were questioning. Unaware of Tom’s business and status. “What? I don’t understand.” Tom was puzzled, he knew his son snuck out, but to a nightclub, why? “It seemed like the moment it was made known that he was a Holland, they let him in,” interjected one of the officers. “Alright, anything else? If you don’t mind I would like to get back to my family.” Tom concluded, bothered by their pestering. “Your son wasn’t alone?” “What?” “There was another body found at the scene. A female about 16 years old, her ID labeled her as Charlotte Owens. She was shot in the abdomen and found dead at the scene,” the officer informed Tom. “Did your son know this woman?” asked the first officer, holding up her driver’s license. “Nope. Never heard of her. I’m sorry to hear about her, wrong place wrong time I guess.” Tom couldn’t tell them the truth, he only needed to protect his family right now and if that meant blatantly lying to the authorities it was worth it. “Your son really had no connection to Ms. Owens?” asked the second policeman.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Mr. Holland, when we found your son he was covered in blood, not his own.” “What… are you accusing my son of murder? I’ll have you know I can have both your jobs in an instant,” Tom yelled, astounded at such an accusation.

“Sir, are you threatening us?” said the cops growing defensive. “No. Just making you aware of the situation. Tell Captain Reid I, Tom Holland, says ‘I’ll call him tomorrow, if you guys can’t do your jobs and leave me and my family alone”” Tom knew what he was doing. You don’t get to be the most powerful man in London by not having the police Captain in your pocket.

“We’re sorry sir, it won’t happen again,” the cops said, realizing they might have just made a very powerful enemy.

“I should hope so, if you have anymore questions here’s my business card and I suggest you don’t bother me again,” Tom concluded.

“Yes, sir. Have good rest of your night,” they said but Tom ignored them as he made a call.

“Tom? Do you know what time it is?” Harrison answered after a few rings, probably consumed by deep sleep.

“Haz I’m at the hospital.” Tom spoke with a somber voice.

“What? What happened?” Haz said all panicky. “Parker snuck out and got beaten up. A hit had to be on him. He was with his girlfriend. She didn’t make it.” “Jesus Christ. I’m on my way. Is it Kingston Memorial?” Harrison inquired. “Yes, also bring Henry I have a feeling Parker is going to need some moral support.” “Alright, be there soon mate.”

Parker was coming out of his deep sleep. His body begged for it, desperately needing to heal. He took quite a beating.

“Woah, woah. Where am I?” Parker asked, confused by his surroundings.

“Honey you’re at the hospital, don’t move you’ll hurt yourself.” You exclaimed. Parker soon realized everything that had transpired that night.

“They killed her,” Parker whispered as his eyes went cold. Every moment flashing before his eyes. One minute she was dancing, full of life and the next lying his arms dead.

“What? Who, honey?” You asked just relieved that your son was awake. “Charlotte.” Tom said walking in as you burst into tears at the vocalization of Charlotte’s name.

“What? Parker you need to tell me what happened. I thought you were in your room,” you pestered, only concerned about her son’s well being.

“I snuck out and my girlfriend got killed. What more is there to tell?” Parker said raising his voice and showing off his beloved Tom’s temper.

“I’m sorry. Charlotte just wanted me to be there to celebrate her birthday. I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me she would still be alive,” Parker explained, tears slipping from his eyes.

“Shh baby, you can explain later. Just get some rest,” you concluded and Parker nodded in response.

“Mom, I’m gonna get some air,” Rosie said, wanting to be sick at the thought of Charlotte’s demise. She walked aimlessly around the hospital, making her way outside by the ambulance entrance.

Her breathing rapidly increased, she was hyperventilating. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she whispered to herself.

Collapsing against the wall, she sunk to the ground and brought her knees to her chest. Parker being the older sibling, knew more of the family business and tried to shield Rosie as much as possible. Not wanting to see her dad littered with blood after a hard day’s work.

“Rosie?” Henry asked with concern, seeing her sitting on the ground with tears streaming down her face.

“Hey, hey, hey. I got you. You’re okay. I got you.” Henry whispered bringing her into his embrace.

“Henry. I’m so glad you’re here.” She said, not letting go.

“Roo, you gotta tell me what happened? My dad wouldn’t say anything.”

“Parker got hurt when he snuck into a nightclub with Charlotte and she—“ Rosie bawled, her voice cracking and not finishing the sentence.

“It’s gonna be okay. Parker is okay right?” Henry asked and Rosie nodded in response. “Charlotte though, she…” Rosie having trouble finding the words. She knew the words but, the moment she said them they became 10 times more real. “Come on, Rosie, spit it out.” Henry said, trying not to alarm her. “She’s dead. She’s dead and I was awful to her.” Rosie stammered. “Oh my god. How?” Henry gasped, trying to wrap his head around the news. “She was shot. I know it’s not my fault but I can’t shake the feeling that I had something to do with it.” “Rosie you can’t think like that. It was an accident,” Henry whispered, comforting the trembling girl beside him. “Hey come here, I got you Roo. You’re safe with me.” Henry whispered pressing a kiss to Rosie’s forehead. She was actually starting to grow fond of the nickname, only when it was Henry who said it.

“I know this is a bad time, but I have to tell you something,” Henry whispered, trying to find the guts to tell this amazingly perfect girl the truth. “Yeah,” Rosie responded, eager for his response. “Rosie, I…” Henry tried to say but was soon interrupted with Rosie’s lips on hers. The kiss was soft yet full of passionate. Their lips melded together like two puzzle pieces. Both their eyes fluttered shut as euphoria consumed them, finally breaking away to breathe.

“I like you a lot, I have for awhile,” Rosie said, shying away from his face.

“Rosie, I really like you too,” he whispered, bringing his hand to caress her cheek.

“Really?” Rosie asked dumbfounded. “Yeah, what’s not to love,” he said and brought her into another chaste kiss. This time lingering longer as his lips brushed against hers. This was everything they both desired.

In the Parker’s hospital room, Tom and Harrison were conversing. Stuff was happening right under Tom’s nose at the estate and he was fed up with it.

“Who do you think it could be?” Haz asked, trying to get to the bottom of this before it blows up. “God knows who, I have countless enemies. Barnes, Roberts, most likely Carson,” Tom said, trying not to alarm, you, his sleeping wife or son. “Alright, I’ll inform the others to be on high alert,” Haz concluded. “We will have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning, I want everyone there.” “Yes, sir.”

“Enough Haz, you don’t need to be formal” Tom chuckled. “I know it just makes you laugh sometimes and you need that right now,” Harrison said, being the comic relief in times of crisis.

“Dad?” Parker whispered, coming out of his deep sleep.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Tom exclaimed. “It’s fine. Can I ask you something” Parker inquired.

“Mmmhm,” Tom acknowledged. “How’d you deal with all those times almost losing mum?” Parker inquired.

“I won’t lie to you, I was a wreck” Tom explained. Seeing his son like this, brought Tom back to the time you were kidnapped and tortured. You two had only been going out for a year at the time and it was a huge turning point in your relationship.

At the time, Tom was in the middle of a turf war with James Graham, another mobster who predated Tom. You and Tom had just moved into together. Everything was smooth sailing up until that point. It was the night of your anniversary, going to the restaurant you went on your first date. You were dressed in a red, Tom’s favorite color not much of a surprise there, satin dress which hugged your figure perfectly. You had made your way to “Casa Nostra,” the little Italian restaurant that was very dear to your heart.

You sat down at your usual table with your usual drink, a gin and tonic, and fell in love with the ambience. Once in a while glancing at your watch, Tom was late. It was puzzling because Tom was everything and of those things was punctual. Tom was currently, stuck at the “office,” swamped with paper work.

“Vincent can you call Y/N? Tell her I’m sorry for being late and I’ll be there in 30 mins,” Tom asked one of his men. “Yes of course boss,” Vincent concluded as the phone suddenly rang.

“Oh, what’d you know, its her right here,” “Thanks Vincent, I got it from here,” Tom said grabbing the phone and dismissing him out of his office.

“I’m so sorry love. I’ll be there in 30 mins tops. Order what every you want to start with, may a suggest a bottle of Dom Pérignon. I promise I’ll be there. I love you,” Tom exclaimed hoping you would understand.

Who was he kidding of course you would understand. You were always so kind and considerate of everyone else’s feelings, he knew you wouldn’t be mad.

“Oh, no worries. I’m fine, just enjoying a few drinks. See you when you get here. I love you too. Remember don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you replied.

Drinking gin and tonic one after the another to pass the time, you had gotten up to make a phone call. 10 mins had past since you entered the establishment and your driver had dropped you off and stayed in the parked car. You made your way to the bathroom. Coming out of the stall having finished and washed your hands. In the reflection of the mirror, stood a tall figure one who looked like he could break your neck with one snap.

A gasp exited your lips as the assailant lunged toward you. Launching towards the bathroom walls, banging you head against the wall and the tile once your body hit the floor. All you heard were muffled screams you assumed belonged to the other patrons of the restaurants. Followed by several gunshots before you fell into complete and utter darkness.

You woke up to mind-numbing pain and throbbing pain to your head, your wrists fasten to a metal chair and wet, thick liquid dripping down the side of your face.

“Glad to see you are awake. Could I get you anything, water maybe?” Graham inquired tauntingly. “Fuck you, Graham. What the fuck am I doing here?” You yelled as you tried to escape your restraints.

James Graham had been a rival of the Hollands for decades. Always craving more power than there was to go around. The Holland’s enjoyed their freedom at the top of the food chain.

They were and are the most dangerous predator out there. When one of the less powerful predators gets a taste for blood, they won’t stop til they have decimated the rest of the population.

“Wow, who knew such a pretty girl like you would have such a mouth on her,” he quipped.

“Tom’s gonna come for me and when he does he will show no mercy,” you said, your voice tainted with hope.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he chuckled. “Why me? Why didn’t you just go after him yourself?” “I suggest you shut your fucking trap before I put a bullet through your skull,” He barked, slapping you straight across the face. Leaving a small imprint of his hand. Right before, he yanked your hair back, entangling all your strands in his fingers. All the pain caused tears to fall.

“I guess that seemed to shut you up. Better hope, your man hurries or he is going have to carry your decaying body out of this hell hole,” Graham taunted. “Why are you doing this?” you asked. “Your corpse would make Tom shatter. To get to him, I have kill you. You are his weakness. It will be the end of him, the end of Tom Holland,” he spoke with a tight grip on your jaw, leaving tiny bruises.

“Well, better get started cause one way or another you’ll be dead by sunrise.” He said, delivering a swift punch to your stomach. One after the other.

“I’ve had my fun. Boys, do you want to get a few licks in?” “It would be my pleasure, boss,” his men snickered as they made their way over to you. Alternating who punched and when. “Have your fun, but no guns. Tom needs to see the pain she felt. I’ll be upstairs.” Graham explained while leaving you alone with his men.

Meanwhile, Tom was finally free of work and on his way to enjoy a lovely night with you. A year spent together was really testament. He already felt so guilty for ditching you for 30 mins, he had some ideas of how he would make it up to you.

He arrived to a massacre at the restaurant. Not a single soul was found alive anywhere, they had all been shot. Searching for you, along with the other casualties, you were nowhere to be found.

Only explanation, you were taken by Graham. The lack of gravitas when it came to killing led to one person, James Graham. You were the only thing on his mind right now and Graham was behind it all. He quickly pulled his phone out and dialed the last person he wanted to see tonight.

“Oh Tom, what do I owe this pleasure?” Graham said cheekily. “Where the fuck is she, Graham?” Tom barked, not fucking around. “Sorry Tommy, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Who?”

“Graham, I swear to fucking god if you hurt a hair on her head there will be hell to pay,” Tom gritted his teeth.

“It’s a little late for that.” Graham stated. “TOM!” You screamed in the background. “Let me talk to her,” Tom pleaded. “Alright, I’m not a monster. Hope she has some good last words for you now.” “It’s for you,” Graham said, holding the phone to your ear. “Y/N? Are you okay? Where are you?” Tom said with concern. He blamed himself for you being in this position. Sure, you had come from a mob family but, nothing like this happened. It was because of him. He was in love you, which made you his biggest weakness.

“I’m fine, don’t listen to him, I’m sorry we didn’t get our second date,” you said, trying to put Tom’s mind at ease. “You mean anniversary date. Oh… Baby, I’m going to find you. Trust me” “I do, I love—“ the conversation soon ended when Graham pulled the phone away and pummeled into your cheekbone, causing red to seep out. Only winces from pain and quiet sobs were heard on the other line.

“Aww, did you say your fucking marriage vows or shit? Too bad you’ll never see her in a wedding dress,” Graham snickered. “Graham, I’m coming for you and for your sake, I suggest you fucking run like the pussy you are,” Tom threatened as he hung up. He knew where you were thank to you subtle hint and he desperately needed backup. How could he go in there guns blazing when it’s just him.

“Haz, Y/N has been taken. Gather all the men I know where she is,” Tom said into the phone. “What? Where is she?” Haz inquired “She’s at the marina, our second date.”

Tom drove to where your second date was, the marina. He needed to know you were okay, the phone call didn’t give him much to go on. Haz and the other men soon arrived all in black SUVs.

“She’s in there. On my count. 1, 2, 3!” Haz said, instructing the soldiers. Tom let Haz take the lead on this one so he could focus on you.

Busting through the doors, guns went off a split second later. Flooring most of Graham’s men. Tom and Haz found you looking half dead strapped to a chair in the middle of the room.

“Love we have to get you out of here” Tom said, trying to run up to you until he was stopped by sound of a gun cocking against your head. Tears slipped as your came face to head with the barrel of a gun.

“Come any closer and she’s dead. Now drop the gun,” Graham shouted.

“Do you think I’m playing around. DROP IT!!!” Tom slowly put his gun on the ground, trying to stall enough for Harrison to be behind him.

“Duck!” Tom yelled, hitting the deck as Haz fired 3 shots. Striking Graham right between the eyes, and the chest twice. A thud soon followed and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Tom rushed over to you, cutting off your restraints.

“Y/N. Oh darling, I’m so sorry,” Tom cried.

“It’s ok, you got me now, that’s all that matters,” you said growing more weak in his arms “We gotta get you to a hospital come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around you shoulder as he walked.

This was the first time Tom had brought you to the hospital. Who knew it would be the first of many instances. He hated hospitals, all the sickness that lingered in the air.

You had been in surgery for an hour, the doctors were in the process of fixing your internal bleeding. All those punches, ruptured one of your kidneys. Now you were resting in your hospital bed with Tom attached to your side, refusing to let go of your hand.

Tom had been a wreck, sure it was only two hours but the most dreadful two hours of his life. He knew you would be okay, but all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms.

“Hi Tommy,” you whispered, beginning to wake. “God you scared the fucking hell out of me, please don’t ever scare me like that again. I need to know you are okay,” Tom exclaimed. “I’m okay, I promise.” “Yes and you will be from now on…. Tomorrow Jared, my driver, will help you gather your stuff from the house. I’ll have someone else take care of the furniture. Do you have a place to stay?” Tom explained.

“What? Why are you doing this?” you said, confusingly.

“I love you Y/N, this is the only way I can guarantee your safety.” “Tom, don’t push me away.”

“None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for me. You wouldn’t be lying here half fucking dead. You should just forget about me,” Tom pleaded. “Hey, look at me. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” you said, standing your ground. “Y/N, I’m damaged goods. This your chance, go live the your life without getting blood on your hands.”

“Tom, I think you forget that I already have blood on my hands. There is nothing you can say or do that would ever make me leave you.”

Tom knew in the moment, you were his and one day he might regret your words. Thank god you stuck around or he wouldn’t have the family he has today. You and Tom even still make it a priority to spend your anniversary at Casa Nostra.

Parker needed reassurance, just like Tom did when he asked you to leave him, after your kidnapping. Tom never wanted himself to be the reason for your demise. He could never forgive himself.

“Dad, I just don’t know how to move on from this. It hurts so bad,” Parker pleaded.

“She’s dead because of me. All I want to do is hold her. She didn’t deserve any of this,” Parker cried. “I know, it wasn’t your fault though,” Tom reassured.

“How is it not? The men specifically asked for me, I’m the reason she is dead!” Parker exclaimed.

“How do I make the pain go away?” he said, desperate for a quick remedy. “It will eventually, you just need time,” Tom explained to his devastated son. “No, what I need is revenge,” Parker said forcing a shocked expression upon Tom’s face.

“I’ll do it, dad” Parker concluded with a new found confidence.

“Do what, P?” Tom inquired.

“I’ll be the next you, be the next Holland that strikes fear.”

“I’m in, teach me to be the best fucking mobster this world has every seen.” These were the words Tom was wishing his son would’ve said a week ago, but there’s no time like the present. “It would be my pleasure. I always knew you had it in you,” Tom said rather excitedly.

“This is the only way I can avenge Charlotte. They won’t know what hit them.” Something in Parker changed. A switch had flipped in his brain. The innocent boy was now a shell of person, demanding revenge. He was out for blood.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

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