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railingsofsorrow · 11 months

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home is wherever i'm with you

[r. lupin x s. black]

summary: the one where teddy is fussing the whole night and sirius is almost crying along with him when remus comes to the rescue.

pairing: r.lupin x s.black (ft. teddy lupin)

w.c: 2.5K

warnings/content: fluff; angst; crying; fear of not being good enough; conversation about ghosts from the past; hints towards abuse; teddy lupin and wolfstar being the loml.

A/N: wolfstar!dads is something that's constantly on my mind so i decided to write about it.

navi

masterpost

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“C'mon, bub.” Sirius pleads, cradling the crying three-year-old toddler to his chest. he's been sobbing for half an hour and Sirius has no idea where those tears are coming from. That river should be empty by now. “Tell me what's wrong, mhm? Was it a bad dream? Is your head hurt?”

The wailing proceeded to get harder.

Sirius leaned away slightly, eyes frantically looking for any form of a bump in the little boy's head. Remus had insisted they started trying to let Teddy sleep by himself on his own bed, and Sirius begrudgingly agreed. Now he didn't think it was a good idea. Has his son fallen out of bed? Was he crying because he was hurt?

“Wait— Teddy, stop fussing, let me look at you, are you hurt?” He tried to pry his little arms away from his neck so he could give him a once over but that fight was proving to be impossible. He was clinging to him like a lifeline. “Bub, I've got to see you. Can you look at Dada?” His ears were ringing to the shrilling sound but that wasn't what he cared about. Teddy hesitated but relaxed his arms, slowly lifting his head to look at Sirius. The sobs didn't stop but they had diminished a little. “There he is,” Sirius gave him a weak smile, cleaning his wet cheeks as his eyes studied his frame carefully. “Did you fall off your bed?” He questioned slowly, brows knitting when he only earned a weak shake of the head.

Teddy's big brown eyes watched him curiously, following the fingers that kept moving around his frame, when his arm was lifted he let out a surprised giggle.

Sirius’s eyes widened, “Was that a giggle I heard?” He tickled the little boy's armpit again. Teddy squirms on his arms, childish laughs erupting from his throat. Okay. That's better. “You're okay now, aren't you? You just wanted my attention?”

“Papa,” Teddy mumbled after his laughs quietened down. “Papa.” he said more urgently rubbing his eyes, honey orbs welling with tears causing Sirius’ grin to disappear. The wailing started as if it never stopped.

“Shh, shh.” Sirius tried it all. Singing, swaying, bad jokes, a bed time story, even tickling him again — nothing worked. “Papa is sleeping, bub. He's tired. But I'm here.” He pressed his lips to the younger's curls. “Dada's right here.”

“Papa!” Teddy manages to explode Sirius’s eardrums with the scream. When he turned to the entrance of the living room, a tired-looking remus lupin greet him with a smile. Teddy repeated his name until he reached them and Remus chuckled at his grabby hands, picking him up from his husband's arms.

“Hello,” Remus says as Teddy nuzzles his cold nose on the croak of his neck, arms gripping his sweater tightly as if scared he would run off somewhere. “Why aren't you sleeping, sweetheart? It's really late.”

“Thought he might've fallen off the bed,” Sirius said, giving him a pointed look. I told you this wasn't a good idea. To which he received a roll of eyes. “But he told me no. He's not hurt either— I've tried everything, moony.” He crossed his arms, forehead creasing in concern. “He just kept saying papa.”

Remus let out a hum of acknowledgment, outstreching a hand towards him as the other arm supported the three-year-old. Sirius locked their fingers, taking a step towards them. He studied Teddy with a sad smile.

“I guess he just needed you.”

Remus took his hand to his lips, “He missed me,” he said quietly, looking down at the head full of chocolate curls that matched the color of his hair. “He's not used to not seeing one of us for a whole day. With the full moon... his routine was disrupted.”

“You should lay down,” Sirius frowned, caressing the side of his cheek. “Get some rest.”

“I've got enough rest for the entire year.”

“You're so dramatic.” Sirius huffs out a chuckle. “Your body breaks bones once a month. You have every right to stay in bed. Resting. Recovering. Which is what you should be doing.” his fingers brushed his son's strands away from his lashes. “I can take him to bed. He's down like a light.”

Remus gives him a short kiss on the cheek before stepping away and moving towards the stairs, hearing Sirius grumbling in protest behind him.

Once he left Teddy on the bed, sounding asleep, he kissed the top of his head and exited the room, making sure the door was ajar in case he woke up again.

Walking back towards his bedroom, he's met with the image of his husband sitting at the edge of their bed, hunched over frame and hands running through his face. His dark hair fell like curtains above his shoulders. It had gotten longer through the years, Remus can't remember the last time he cut it. Not that he should, he likes it the way it is. Sirius seems to like it too, says it's good for braiding and styling.

“Hey,” Remus perched down beside him, placing his chin on his shoulder as his hands trailed down his arms in a gentle manner. “You okay?”

Sirius nods, leaning into him. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

Remus could feel something was wrong. But he wouldn't force him to tell him anything, he would when he thought it was the right time.

“I just— sometimes I think he hates me,” Sirius choked out.

Remus’s movements halted, “Teddy?” he asked, bewilderment taking over his features.

Sirius leaned away, letting out a shaky breath before he carried on. “I don't know how to— I don't have the warmth a parent should, Remus. The way you do. You know when you make him feel safe just by being in the room? I don't think he feels that way with me. I was never taught how to do it. I never had that kind of—that kind of—”

“Love?” Remus asked, understanding where this was coming from. It was deeper than a sleepless night. It came from the blood running within his veins and the heartache marked in the scars on his body and on his soul. Remus recognized that haunted far-away look anywhere. “Sirius,” he nudged his shoulder, touching his cheek softly. when he saw the red-rimmed eyes his heart clenched. “Darling, you have more than just warmth. you have love and you have goodness in you.” He placed his palm on his chest, caressing right above his heart. “...and your son sees that more than anybody else. he feels that, Sirius.”

“I think that no matter how hard I try not to be like them—like her, it will be useless. She's crawling into my skin just like she did before. and,” his throat clogged up. “and Teddy will resent me when he grows up just like I resent them.”

He's been keeping this inside for so long and Remus just knows this by his cries are coming out in desperate sobs. He quickly wrapped his arms around Sirius’s shaking frame, bringing his head to rest on his shoulder. Remus stayed like that for a while, murmuring sweet reassurances in his husband's ear until his sobs died down and became a soft breath against his skin.

“I don't know how to change,” Sirius mumbles in a low tone.

“Why would you have to?” Remus plays with his long strands, resting his cheek against his temple. “You don't, darling. Who you are right now is enough.” When Sirius moves to retort something, Remus quickly pecks his lips. “Let me finish.” He gives him a look that renders Sirius quiet. “You don't see the things I do because you don't look for them. But the way Teddy clings to you when he has nightmares or the accomplice grin he sends your way when he's done something wrong or when he only wants you to read your bedtime stories because he knows you make up some crazy fiction and don't actually read the ones in the books; I see it. I see it all the time.”

There's a beat and he knows his words meant something because of the way the gray eyes in front of him are glinting with something other than sadness. Hope.

“Teddy cannot hate you,” Remus lifts his chin, drawing circles on his cheek lovingly. “He cannot do anything besides loving you, Sirius. You make him feel safe. You make him feel loved. Just like I do. This place—this life we built? It belongs to all of us. You don't need to change to be here. you need to be yourself. you need to be my loving and beautiful husband who's terrible at cooking but tries anyway,” that earned him a tearful chuckle and a slight push. He grinned wickedly. “You need to keep being you. The man I love. Teddy's amazing father.” He pauses. “Sirius.” He leans his forehead on him. “They can't hurt you anymore. She can't. And anything that happens from now on— anything you'll build... It will be yours, nothing can take that away.”

“Teddy won't grow up to resent you,” I can't ever see that as an option. “I know it's hard to be free from these thoughts. I know it feels like they're following your every move. That they won't ever leave you alone.” There's some part of Remus, not only on full moons, that he just wants to crawl up and disappear. His mind is too much, too dark and too dangerous, often it feels like a cave in the middle of nowhere in which bony creatures climb the walls and sink their claws into them. So he knows what it feels like. Even if their pain is different, it's still the same. That deep old ache stinging in their chest. “But I'm here to help you chase them away, okay? What your head tells you may not always be the truth.” Effie's words slip out of his tongue as if they have been his all along. She's comforted all of them during different periods of time and he's thankful he's been one of those people. There are some things Euphemia Potter told Remus that he didn't quite understand until later. These days, he's still coming to terms with bits of her advice. She might be gone but she's still here, caring for everyone with her wise words.

“I love you,” Sirius tilts his head to look at him properly. “I love you so bad, moony.”

“I love you, too.”

Sirius brushes his lips against his, kissing him slowly, then he leans back and looks at him as if he was seeing Remus for the first time. It always feels like the first time with them.

“You really think it was a good idea to let him sleep by himself?”

“Oh, god.” Remus cries out. “Here we go.”

“I'm just saying! Maybe it’s too early—” Sirius attempts to bargain but Remus is two steps ahead as always.

“He needs to learn now, otherwise he'll never get used to sleeping in his own bedroom.”

Sirius sighs, a sad undertone when he speaks again. although Remus is very much aware he's not sad anymore, it's just the dramatics. “Okay.”

Remus smiles a bit, “Teddy will handle it.”

“I don't want him to grow up,” Sirius frowns slightly, lower lip thrusting out.

Remus hums, pulling him towards the bed. Sirius lets him do it, his body curling in his husband's chest like he's done countless times before.

“I don't want it either,” Remus admits quietly, burying his nose in his hair, which smells like strawberry and some fancy fragrance from his expensive shampoo.

There's a soft knock on the door, small socked feet and a mess of honey-brown curls peeking through the small space open. They hadn't closed it completely in case Teddy needed them in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” Sirius crawled out of the bed, pushing the door open wide. “What's wrong?” He asked softly, crouching down to Teddy's height. The little boy had his lips pressed together in a pout, arms folded.

“No stowies.” Teddy complained, tapping his left foot on the floor. Remus covered a laugh by clearing his throat. He looked exactly like Sirius did in first year when he hadn't got what he wanted. The pout and the foot tapping on the floor in an impatient manner. The resemblance was uncanny. “Dada.” He drawled, swaying their hands together.

Sirius stole a look at Remus, suppressing a smile. When he looked down at Teddy, he was met with a frown. “Oh, you want stories?”

“You forget!”

“I did forget, didn't I?” Sirius quickly pull him to his arms, throwing him up in the air to catch him again. The room was filled with childish shrieks and giggling. “I'm sorry, Teddy. That's awful. Can you ever forgive me? Can you?” Teddy's giggles proceeded to enhance considerably.

Remus sat crisscrossed on the bed, watching the scene with fondness melting his insides. he loved these little moments. there's nowhere else he'd feel at home than right here.

“C'mon, baby. Fun's over.” Sirius huffed, lowering the boy towards Remus so he could say goodnight. “Kiss your papa and let's go to our dream adventure.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Remus said softly, giving him a butterfly kiss which made Teddy giggle cutely. Sirius send him a wink and walked out of the room with their son squirming in his hold.

When Sirius walked back into their shared bedroom, he promptly threw his body on top of Remus, who let out a groan in protest even though his arms wrapped around Sirius's slim waist instinctively. They fit into each other like puzzle pieces.

“Did he make you tell those stories?”

“it wouldn't be Teddy if he didn't want to hear about that time we turned the entire Slytherin house pink.”

Remus's laugh was muffled by Sirius's chest. “I reckon he's got a talent for mischief." Leaning back, Sirius wriggled his eyebrows knowingly. “What d'you think he'll be like at eleven?"

“Hogwarts’ worst nightmare.”

“Minnie's secret favorite student.” Sirius corrected him, poking his cheek. Remus bit the tip of his finger and ends up earning a slap on the shoulder. “You know who it was back then, don't you?”

Remus's lips crinkle at the edges. “Let me guess: you, Padfoot?”

“Of course it was me.” He said pointedly.

“Okay.” Remus kisses his cheek to hide his grin. “Sure it was.”

Sirius acknowledges the sarcasm in his tone and keeps insisting on the topic until Remus admits the truth – his truth – by ticklish threats. Which is unfair because Remus is very much sensitive to anything touching his sides, exactly like Teddy. And Sirius is aware of that he just takes advantage to get his way around. As Teddy sleeps soundly in his room down the hall after his most precious bedtime stories, they fall asleep in each other's arms under a blanket of comfort and safety like they do every night.

・。.・゜✭・. ・。.・゜✭・.

#wolfstar blurb #wolfstar fanfiction #remus lupin x sirius black #teddy lupin is the loml #wolfstar!dads #wolfstar fluff

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fe-fictions · 2 years

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Just seems like everything has been going wrong lately and I'm so down. Can you maybe do Niles caring for an over stressed and overworked pregnant corrin who refuses to take a break and then has a breakdown

(I've got you ;;; A ;;; )

He didn’t like seeing you so distressed, but what made it worse was you wouldn’t admit that something was wrong.

You were six months pregnant, and really starting to show. But the fact remained that the war was still ongoing, and since you couldn’t fight, you’d taken on the vast majority of clerical and administrative support roles that needed attention.

The Outrealm moved faster than the real world, so you were visited a lot more often than you liked. It seemed like every day there was another request, another stack of parchment needing review, and a load of other work that was starting to drive you batty.

However, any attempt to get you (his six months pregnant wife) to slow down was met with a stubborn huff and a shake of your head. You wouldn’t be persuaded so easily.

“I don’t need a break, Niles- I’ve been doing just fine this whole time. What’s one more set of papers?”

“It’s not just one more set, darling; never is.”

“Then I’ll keep going until the next set comes, and just carry on until it’s officially finished.”

“That would be until the war ends. You really think you can keep doing this until then? The war won’t be over before the baby’s born.”

“We can hope,” You shrugged, brushing off poor Niles’ attempts to slow you down. “Really, I’m fine! I can handle this all for the war effort. It’s the least I can do, now that I’m like this.”

“I’m partially to blame for this, you know.” He sighed, “We should’ve waited until after the war before I knocked you up.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t say it like that. It’s inappropriate.”

“Of course,” He grinned, coming around the desk and running his fingers over your shoulders. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

“Much better.” You tilted your head back, leaning into his chest. He kissed the top of your head, the two of you lingering in a quiet moment. They were so very few and far between.

“...Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. If not for me, for the little one.”

“I will try my best.” You assured him, though it didn’t do much for him in the way of easing his concerns.

Rather, the poor man only found the situation worsened over time.

It would get to the point where he’d be getting to bed late and you’d still be up, hunched over your desk and looking utterly miserable as you tried to scribble out the last part of another approval or replying to your brother’s letters.

He tried to speak with them about reducing the workload, but you’d already circumvented that, somehow. They’d explain how they had already tried, seeing as you’re heavily pregnant, but you were insistent.

That, and he suspected you had some dirt on them that allowed you to bend their wills so easily.

He was at a loss.

Niles didn’t consider himself the paternal type, not in the least. But it did hurt him to think that you were overworking yourself to the point that your aches were worse, your diet was worsening, and on top of all that, the ramifications that it was having on his unborn child.

He did his best to enforce a bedtime, or at the very least compromise and let you work from the bed until the candles were out.

The whole time, he could see you getting more irritated, less patient and it was not going well. It was getting to be a point of concern for the staff, too. The longer it went on, the closer and closer you got to breaking.

When the moment did come, it happened quietly.

Niles had missed the courier on his way in, but he stepped into the kitchen to prepare some tea for himself and his wife (at the very least to force a nice, relaxing break on you against your will).

The courier looked rather pale as he passed, giving Niles a quick bow in acknowledgement of his station.

“Sir.”

“You look a little green, soldier.”

“Well…i-it’s… Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Spit it out. Don’t leave me in suspense.” Niles leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

It had been a while since he got to tease someone…you’d lost the patience for it a trimester ago.

“It’s the princess. I believe she’s in distress.”

“Corrin?”

He straightened up.

“What do you mean?”

“She looked pale when I brought the package in…and her hands were shaking. I-I tried to ask if she was alright, but she ordered me out.”

“I see.” Niles frowned deeply, seeing the courier out. It took about three steps before he was striding across the manor and down the corridor. It wasn’t like you to snap at anyone, let alone an innocent party like that.

Something was terribly wrong.

“Corrin?” He rapped his knuckles on the door to your office. The handle wasn’t locked, but you also weren’t answering him. “Hey, I’m coming in.”

What greeted him when the heavy oak thing opened wrenched his heart in two.

You covered your face with your arms, leaned over your desk while your shoulders shook. The papers that were so carefully stacked before had now been strewn about.

You were a mess from top to bottom.

Niles was at your side without a second’s hesitation.

He pulled your seat back so that you might turn to face him, which gave him a glimpse of tears streaming down your cheeks before you threw yourself into his arms.

He wrapped you up in warm embrace, hugging onto you as tight as possible. You were trembling.

“Hey, now…what’s going on?”

“Y-you…were right…” You sniffled pitifully, breath catching in your chest, “I-i-it’s too m-much.”

“Breathe,” His tone was soothing, which did not coexist well with the panic tightening his chest. “Try to calm down a little bit, so you can talk to me.”

“Yeah.” You sniffed again, nuzzling into him.

Niles held you for a long while. The baby bumped here and there between you, which Niles was relieved about; at least someone in his household still felt well.

Eventually your breathing evened out, and your tears slowed to a stop. When you managed to lean away from your husband’s chest, he still held on, cupping your face with his cheeks.

“Better?” He whispered, rubbing away the tracks that stained your skin. You nodded quietly, leaning into his palm.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“N-no, I…I was overwhelmed. That’s why I started crying. It’s silly, really.” You shook your head, prompting him to release you so you could wipe at your own eyes. “You tried to stop me so many times, but I thought I could still be useful to the army if I could take on more work until I was able to return to the battlefield.”

“The army won’t fall apart while you’re gone.” He reminded you gently, “Your family and friends are more than capable of keeping things running while you’re out.”

“But I shouldn’t be out in the first place.” You protested, “I just…i-it’s not that I don’t want the baby. I’m happy that we’re going to have a family together, truly. But I hate that I’m sidelined while everyone else is still working so hard.”

“You want to do your share.” He nodded softly, “But that’s why there are protocols in place. You’re not the first to get pregnant on the campaign trail, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

“But I’m the one who’s supposed to be leading the charge in the first place, and now I’ve left it to everybody else.”

“They want to help, and they want you to be safe and healthy while you’re delivering a newborn baby.” He reminded you tenderly, taking your little hands into his. “They can survive without you for a few more months. You’ve given them a huge head start with all this work you took on as it is…so let them handle the rest. While you rest.”

You smiled when he emphasized the last few words. He wasn’t wrong after all. Maybe it’d be okay to let them be for a little while. If it was really an emergency, they’d come, wouldn’t they?

After careful deliberation (and Niles’ sweet kisses), you finally conceded his point.

“...All right. I’ll…I’ll slow down.”

“All the way?”

“To a stop.”

“Good girl.” He beamed at you, “Come on. Let’s go take a warm bath and relax a while before dinner. We can plan out what to do with our littl evacuation while we’ve got it.”

“What about all this?”

“We can clean it up and deal with it, later. If anything we’ll mail it right back. I’m sure your brothers will be pleased to know I’ve managed to defeat the unstoppable Corrin.”

“Don’t gloat too much.” You huffed, letting him help you up. His arm came firmly around your waist, the other still squeezing your hand as he led you to the master bath.

“I can’t help it. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long…getting to force you into bed and do whatever I want you to do.”

“Which in this case is…?” “Forcing the mother of my child to sleep at a decent hour, next to her loving husband.”

“What a torturous request…” You roll your eyes, earning a kiss and a laugh that was quickly reciprocated.

Niles did love you, even if you caused such struggle in his heart.

It was an unusual feeling, to worry and care so deeply for someone besides himself…let alone a person he hadn’t even met yet!

But it made him beyond happy just the same, to know you were going to be safe and warm for the rest of the pregnancy.

It was only a little longer before the culprit behind all those punches and kicks on his palms was brought into the world; a little girl with bright red cheeks, her mother’s war cry and her father’s mysterious (mischievous) eyes.

A worthy wait, indeed.

#niles #corrin #fe 14 #fire emblem fates #pregnancy fluff #niles x corrin #fe fictions #fe-fictions #pregnancy angst #hurt and comfort #stress is so rough #i hope you feel a little better #and i hope i supplied you with enough little niles kisses ;;;;;#f!corrin #fem!corrin #f!mu

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talldarkandroguesome · 1 year

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3rd of First Seed, Fredas

Where has the time gone? It seemed as though I just sat down to write yesterday, but looking at the last page I wrote I see it has been far more than that.

Sildras is finishing up his first year with classes at Shad Astula and I could not be more proud of him! He as grown so much since his starting. He is far more confident, less shy around other mer, and more willing to speak up when he has knowledge. I have been trying to encourage it as much as I can, but I know some of that confidence must be earned through his supportive professors.

If they could do nothing for me, at least they are doing what they should for my son. I am trying not to hold a grudge, I truly am. It is very difficult. After all, I should be happy that my son is receiving such excellent tutelage. I should be able to let go of what wrongs were done to me, for they are clearly being righted for the next generation. What more could I ask for than for my son to get everything I was denied?

And yet it is not so easy to let go of that anger. It settled in my chest, gripping my heart like a vice. Has my hatred burned so hot that it has welded itself upon me for good?

I know this is part of what Luayl has been talking about. I know! I am not so blind to my own feelings as all that.

Yet when I try the various ways he has suggested, it has so far seemed to work. At least, it had, up to the point I found myself a total angry wreck upon receiving an invitation to dine with one of the professors who had told me of my worthlessness as a child.

Suddenly it all came rushing back. The anger. The hurt. I had felt so calm up until I opened that envelop and read the words contained. The parchment singed around my fingers. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I recognized a whole host of emotions, yet I did not feel any of them. I was numb. Yet my mind was reacting quite greatly. Emotionally I felt none of it though, it was like scanning through the feelings of another person from the outside.

Yet it was not in a way where you decide upon the irrational way you are feeling, acknowledge it, and let it flow away from you like a netch on the breeze. I have been doing that sort of exercise. And yet, it is clear that all that has done is the same thing all the other things Luayl said I should not do have done. It is simply a new method of distancing myself from the feelings, only it has become completely unconscious in how it operates.

I look forward to telling him about it and see how he goes into all of the ways I have misinterpreted his directions. I have been trying to follow his exercises. He told me I was doing well with them. And yet, here we are again.

Worse still, Although I was numb to the feelings then, they persisted as such for the greater part of the day. I had trouble feeling anything at all. Even small things.

Then suddenly the emotions came flooding back in like a broken damn. I snapped over the smallest of things and had trouble tempering my anger. And less than an hour after that, I was watching Sildras and one of the servant’s children at play outside and overheard a servant singing a song about how children grow up to be our greatest legacy and how we have a responsibility to make sure they do not end up carrying on our deepest hurts. And then the tears did flow, unbridled.

Outside of grief over the death of someone I have cared for, I cannot recall the last time I have cried. Perhaps in some moment of pain or fear? But beyond that... I cannot recall. So why should this set me off?

I feel as though something is very wrong with me. I made sure to make liberal use of the new vintage of Balmora Blue that arrived as a gift from a new potential mistress’ family.

Do not ask me how it tasted, I could not tell you.

Avon made me get in bed. He says I look as though I have not slept in days.

I have been sleeping. Perhaps not much. Certainly not well.

I feel as though there is some meaning to the dreams I have had lately, yet upon waking they fade so quickly I cannot write them done in a way that matters. The only thing I recall was a handsome man’s face telling someone that I was ready to listen. Then later in the dream there was a disturbed nest of some sort and as I tried to safely carry a babe away from the possible danger, a small wasp flew past us. I stopped, trying to denote that I was not a threat. It stopped, turned around, and flew straight at my right ear.

I awoke with a start. Yet every now and again I feel as if I hear that wasp approaching me on the same side again. And I am sure it is my imagination, but it almost feels as though there is something deep in my ear. A weight of some kind, though very small.

To be sure that something did not get in my ear, I had Avon look in it. He found nothing. He thinks it was just that phantom feeling of something that happens while you are asleep that remains upon the waking mind.

I should find my way to a Wisewoman. I am sure there is meaning somewhere within. I cannot be sure though. Perhaps it is just a strange dream.

#ESO #TES #RP #Dunmer #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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HSLOT PHILLY

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

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immersed-in-mischief · 3 years

Text

Prince Charming (Loki x Reader)- Part 6

I am apologizing for this part up front. It was heartbreaking to write but sometimes the characters in your head just get what they want! Please forgive me!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

Summary: You and Loki deal with the outcome from the ball in your own ways.

Mischief Makers: @ruiningthe1975 @valiantvoidpoetry @nms224 @youlightmeupfinn @salempoe @lokiprompts @oasiswithmyg @saltandapepper @chwlogy @clockblobber @locht3ssmonster

It was early the next morning when you woke up, even though it hadn’t been too long since you had finally fallen asleep. You could hear the tablet vibrating in the drawer until the early morning hours. Part of you felt guilt, but what was there to say to him? If you kept up the charade, he would just want to meet in person again. Without a mask, he would surely recognize you this time. The fact that he had spent the entire evening with you dancing, talking, and joking without truly seeing you told you everything you needed to know. It wasn’t really you that he was in love with. Loki was in love with the woman he met online, not his best friend that was practically invisible to him in all the ways that mattered. It had all come back full circle and you were back to moving on all over again.

With a groan, you pushed the blankets back and threw on a hoodie before making your way down to the kitchen for a very strong cup of coffee. Just as you turned the corner, you saw him sitting on a barstool at the island. Based on the messages you heard coming through, he most likely didn’t sleep a wink last night. As you rounded the island towards the coffee pot, his face confirmed your suspicions. Loki’s face was expressionless. He stared off into the distance and didn’t even see you standing there. Just as you opened your mouth to tell him good morning, Natasha and Wanda walked in from their early morning work out. Their faces lit up at the sight of the two of you together and they didn’t give you the chance to stop them before Nat spoke.

“Well, well. Look who we have here! I guess the ball went well then?”

Luckily, Loki never looked up from the cup of coffee in front of him to see you frantically shaking your head at the two of them, causing a couple of confused looks in return. His voice was low and sad.

“I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure. I can’t get my date to respond now.”

He looked up at you with a curious look.

“I didn’t know you attended the ball, Bug. I never saw you. Did you attend with your Boy Toy?”

Wanda’s eyebrows shot up as she took a sip from the coffee she had just poured before joining Nat at the end of the island. She was a little more subtle compared to Nat who stood with her arms crossed over her chest and looked back and forth between you and the god in front of you with a frustrated and confused expression.

“Oh… umm… he couldn’t make it. I just hung out around here instead. So, tell me more about this date of yours…”

The two women turned their attention towards him and waited for his answer. He looked back down at his coffee cup again before continuing, completely oblivious to the looks he was being given in the moment.

“She was incredible. It was the first time we had met in person but I felt like I had known her forever for some reason. She was funny, sarcastic, adorable yet sexy, and was more than I ever imagined. Apparently she recognized me since she called me by my name at one point, but it didn’t seem to bother her though. Sadly, I never got her name in return. Well, not exactly. She said that I already knew her but I can’t seem to place her. Now, I can’t get her to respond to any of my messages begging her to tell me her identity.”

Natasha rolled her eyes before shaking her head at him. You shot her a look to knock it off before continuing the conversation with him.

“I’m sorry, Mischief. Maybe it will come to you how you know this mystery woman.”

With a look of defeat, he shook his head as he stood and pushed away from the island.

“Perhaps. I truly thought we had a connection, or at least I felt one each time we kissed… I guess time will tell.”

Upon Wanda choking on the sip of coffee she had been drinking, he finally looked up at acknowledge the three of you.

“Sorry. Wrong pipe…”

You looked down at the floor as they watched Loki leave the room and head down the hall. Once he was out of sight, they finally let their thoughts and reactions out. They bantered back and forth about how much of an idiot he was and how blind he was until Nat looked up at you and saw the tears forming in your eyes.

“Babe… are you okay?”

The shake of your head was all it took and they came and hugged you as the crying started all over again.

“He never saw me. We danced. We talked for HOURS. I even dropped hints and everything. How could he not recognize me? The mask did nothing to disguise my voice or my personality. Do I mean that little to him? The longer the night went on, the more I was afraid to tell him. I was too hurt. Part of me thought that maybe by this morning, he would figure it out. Loki messaged me all night but I never even read anything past the first one. It hurt too much.”

Wanda smoothed your hair and brought your face up from Nat’s shoulder to look at her.

“Did Loki say he kissed you?”

You gave her a sad smile as you nodded your head. Pulling away from Natasha, you leaned back against the counter and wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Twice actually. It was amazing and everything I hoped it would be. Well… except for the whole him not actually kissing ME thing.”

It was her turn to hug you.

“I’m so sorry sweetie. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m not sure exactly. I obviously can’t keep talking to him as Chaos. Do I let him down gently? Do I just not respond? How can I possibly be the supportive best friend and help him get over ME? This whole thing is just a mess now.”

You made your self a bowl of cereal and sat down in the chair he had previously occupied. After a few minutes, Wanda spoke up again.

“Sweetie, no matter what you do at this point, things won’t be the same anymore. Even if he doesn’t know, you do. It’s impossible to go back to the friendship you two had before. Hell, if it was as great as you described, you don’t go back to being just friends after a kiss like that. Loki needs to know it’s you and then just go from there.”

It had been a few weeks since the ball, yet she had never responded to him. Loki had spent night after night rereading their conversations for any detail he might have missed. For the first few days, he had begged and pleaded and received nothing in return. He had finally let himself believe that she was never real.

Unable to sleep, he quietly made his way down the hall towards the kitchen. He was surprised to see someone else awake at this hour until he heard her softly humming as she poured herself a cup of hot tea.

“Hello, Bug. Can’t sleep either?”

His voice startled you slightly. In the weeks following the ball, the two of you had talked just as rarely as you had in the previous months. Looking back now, you both had been too preoccupied with talking to each other online to talk face to face anymore. It had started to become strange now after so many years of being all each other had.

“Yeah. There’s still some water left in the kettle if you want some tea too.”

Loki nodded and got up from the barstool and made his way around to it once you finished preparing yours. With your mug in hand, you made your way to the other side of the island and watched him. Over the last few weeks, you had tried to build up the courage to tell him. The longer you put it off, the harder it was becoming, especially when you saw how sad he had been. Now would be as best a time as any. No one else was awake at this hour to interrupt you two and it would give you privacy to figure this whole thing out. Wanda had been right. Your relationship had changed now. Taking a deep breath, you tried to ease into the subject.

“Hey… umm… did you ever figure out the whole mystery girl thing?”

You watched his head dip as he braced himself against the counter. Guilt flooded your gut. His voice was low, but he continued preparing his tea instead of looking back at you.

“I’ve given up on that endeavor unfortunately. Looking back on it, it ended up being a meaningless interaction to be quite honest…”

It felt like a knife to the heart. He had given up figuring out who you were? Just like that? You thought it had hurt when he didn’t recognize you, but this pain didn’t even compare. There had been a sliver of hope that if he found out her identity that he love you back. Loki no longer cared about his mystery girl. Maybe he had never actually fallen in love like you thought. Knowing it was you wouldn’t change anything now. For the second time, Loki wasn’t going to return your feelings for him. It’s words from the night you invited him to the ball echoed through your mind. Any feelings you had would be returned ten fold? Hardly.

Remaining his best friend was out of the question now. Part of you thought that if he never knew the truth, that the two of you could go back to normal but you were far from that. The fact that he truly didn’t know it was you standing in front of him tainted the years of friendship. It was still your voice, your words, your movements, your actions. One small mask to hide half of your face and Loki no longer saw you. You loved him with every fiber of your being, and he had never seen you standing there.

You faked a cough to hide the sob that escaped.

“Oh…o-okay… that’s probably for the best then”

He nodded and still didn’t look at you. With his back towards you, he never saw the tears streaming down your face or the still steaming mug abandoned on the kitchen island.

#loki smut #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fandom #loki angst #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #marvel #prince charming #friends to lovers

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beccascribbles · 3 years

Note

It angst time bby!🤪 Could you maybe pls do a Iwa,Tendou and Tsuki x reader/manager scenario where their s/o gets bullied because they are the manager of the team. Also it goes that far that the girls threaten them to leave the vb club/ end their relationship bevor it will be much worse for them. ( a fluffy end would be nice because I saw lots of angsty fics today kndjsjsna)

a/n - you asked and i shall deliver. sometimes we just have a craving for angst. i’m a little bit obsessed with it myself (think a large part of my blog is angst tbh). and don’t worry, they are fluffy endings i think... hope you enjoy!

"i can't do this anymore," you sobbed, finally letting the tears fall. iwaizumi reached out for you desperately, hand curling around your waist and pulling you into his chest. his arm, corded with muscle, wrapped around your waist protectively, holding you close to him. his other hand held the back of your head. “i can’t, haji. they won’t stop. it won’t stop.”

“shh,” he murmured, stroking the back of your head as your tears dampened his shirt. part of him was confused, the other part focused entirely on offering you support. he had no idea who this mysterious they was. it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know, the girls choosing moments when iwaizumi (and anyone who might inform him of what was happening) was gone to be their cruellest. “who’s they?”

you stiffened slightly against him then, mind pulling their most recent assault to the forefront of your mind. taloned fingernails had dug into your shoulders before pushing you harshly, your back hitting the brick wall behind you harshly. rough brick had dug into your back, the pain not enough to distract you from the words they spat at you. you had flinched away, looked for an escape, but there was nowhere to go. one girl, clearly the ringleader, had yanked at your hair, pulling your face towards her.

“you stupid little whore,” she had hissed, letting out a cold laugh at the wince that escaped your lips. “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop managing the team and leave iwaizumi while you’re at it. you don’t deserve him and he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”

her words had been echoed by the other girls with her, and when the tears had finally began to prick at your eyes, they had decided their needs had been satisfied for today. she had turned back to look at you one last time before leaving you with her parting words. “remember what i said. if you want it to stop, you know what to do.”

“y/n?” iwaizumi questioned, his voice cutting through the memory. worry laced his tone, and he had pulled you away from his chest to be able to see your face. you blinked up at him, a dreadful realisation coming over you. you knew how to make it stop. it was simple. you just had to force out the words.

the texture of his skin was rough against yours, his hands calloused from a childhood spent playing volleyball. you wanted to surrender to his warmth, to downplay everything you were feeling, to blame it on some simple reason such as school, anything to be with him for just a little longer. but you couldn’t. it needed to be done.

“i want to break up,” you said, forcing the words out, fresh tears beginning to fall from your eyes. the weight you had expected to be lifted was not. instead, remorse crushed you. for a moment, you struggled to breath, the air trapped in your throat. it was only iwaizumi’s gentle nudging, the way he guided you through your breathing, that helped you regain a semblance of calm.

“no you don’t,” he said calmly, seeing right through you. there was never any point in lying to him. he could see right through any lies that slipped from your lips. “i also won’t let you.”

your eyes widened in fear, her face flashing to life in your brain. your scalped tingled in remembrance of the way she had yanked your hair. suddenly, you began to shake, wrapping your arms around yourself. you let out a wretched sob. “hajime... please.”

“no,” he said, rubbing your arm soothingly in an attempt to calm you. “you need to tell me what the fuck is going on. no hiding from me. we’re sorting this out and i’m going to find out who put such stupid ideas into your head and they’re going to pay.”

you shook your head weakly, but his hands were quick to stop your movements, thumb reaching out to brush away the tears collecting in the corner of your eye. he leant forward, resting his forehead against yours. “we’re sorting this out, okay?”

“okay.”

really, you should’ve known he would understand. you should have known that of anyone who would understand how helpless you were feeling, how truly you believed leaving the team was your only escape from their torment, was tendou. he had opened up to you, told you about his childhood, his experience with bullies. yet, you couldn’t open up to him, couldn’t tell him what was happening to you.

“why weren’t you at practice today?” questioned tendou, the first words out of his mouth when you opened your dorm room to him. the second thing he did was press a kiss to your lips, his hands going up to hold your face tenderly. “you’re not sick, are you? i hope not, otherwise i shouldn’t have kissed you. i guess we can be ill together though.”

“i quit,” you said, moving away from him and collapsing onto your bed, picking up the magazine you had discarded moments before. you opened it, using it as a shield to protect you from tendou’s gaze. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you.

“why would you do that?” he asked, moving over to the bed and sitting opposite you, reaching over to remove the magazine from in front of your face. you let out a grumble, though did little to actually resist.

“i didn’t feel like doing it anymore,” you lied, studying the wall behind him. it was painfully obvious you were avoiding his gaze, just further proof that you were lying to him. “it wasn’t fun anymore. besides, i need to focus on school.”

“tut tut,” he admonished, waggling his finger at you. him reprimanding you caused a small smile to tug at your lips, one that quickly vanished when he persisted. “why would you really quit?”

you crossed your arms over your chest, physically turning your body away from him. the quiet rejection did little to discourage him. instead, he reached for your hand.

“i saw you with some girls yesterday,” he admitted, taking careful note of the way your whole body suddenly stiffened. he chose his next words carefully, not wanting you to pull away, to refuse to confirm the suspicions he already had. “you looked upset. are you okay now?”

it was at those words that you finally turned to look at him, fresh tears making your eyes seem to shimmer. it was an oddly beautiful sight, mused tendou, reaching out with care to brush a finger along your jaw. sudden anger twisted your features, shattering the illusion and causing him to jerk his hand away.

“of course i’m not fucking okay,” you spat, yanking your hand from his landing a solid hit the mattress you were both sitting on. “it’s fucking pathetic that i let them have their way just because i was scared.”

you pushed up from the bed, turning around wildly, looking for something, anything, that would ease the emotions currently rushing through you. they were hard to distinguish, coming together to leave you craving for a release. tendou stood up to join you, holding his hands out in front of him.

“punch me,” he stated, stance adjusting so he was properly balanced. you didn’t even question it, balling your hands into fists and launching a fist into his palm. the crack of skin on skin echoed around the room, and you felt the release. he praised you, “solid hit. need to go again?”

you shook your head, stepping forward and leaning your head against his chest, fingers curling into the flimsy material of his shirt. his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

“what am i going to do?” you sighed. tendou shuffled backwards, pulling you along with him until he was sat on the bed, your legs either side of his own as you sat on his lap. he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to look at him.

“you’re going to re-join the team,” he explained, before a smirk twisted his features, “and i’m going to enlist some help to go and confront some bullies.”

he doesn’t say anything to you, doesn’t really do much to acknowledge the tears rolling down your cheeks other than to wrap his arm around your shoulder. you are tugged into his lean body, and are quick to turn your head into his chest to hide your tears from view. admittedly, it was a bit late at this point, the majority of the team having already passed you on their way into the gym. you had simply waved away their concerns, not thinking you could find the words to explain, to tell them you were leaving.

“so,” mused tsukishima, letting your bury your face into his chest, your hands clutching onto the material of his top. ordinarily, he would have told you to stop stretching the fabric. however, you had been off for a couple of days, more withdrawn, and he figured he was close to finding out the reason why. “what happened?”

you let out a stifle, finally looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “i left the team.”

“that doesn’t really answer my question though, does it?” he prodded. something told you he had an inclination at the cause behind it. there was no solid evidence to prove his suspicions, however. all he could go off was the look of trepidation in your eyes, the way you body would tense when certain people approached.

you shook your head, fists clenching tighter. he let out a soft sigh, his other arm coming around your body to hold you more securely against his chest. he reprimanded you softly, “you could have told me, or at least someone else on the team if you didn’t want me to know. i wouldn’t think any less of you because you’re being bullied.”

“they said it would get worse if i told anyone, if i didn’t do what they said,” you hiccupped, relaxing in his firm hold, soothed by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“y/n,” he sighed, tilting his head down to look at you, “they’re just pathetic nobodies who are jealous of you. do you honestly think they could actually hurt you more if you told someone? i’d like to see them try.”

his hold brought you comfort, and you found yourself calming down. he released you, reaching down to take your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, dropping a kiss to the top of your head in the process. as he walked back with you towards the gym, he murmured darkly, “i might just give them a small taste of their own medicine.”

“kei,” you warned, hand tightening on his, “don’t.”

“i’m still going to talk to them.”

“you don’t even know who they are.”

“i can guess, or you can tell me.”

you just shook your head, his words bringing a distraction from the emotions still just beneath the surface just as he knew they would.

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sunnyville36 · 3 years

Text

Mamihlapinatapai {part 2}

Thank you all so sooo much for the kind feedback on part 1! Part 2 is coming at you now! 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: injuries, mentions of death/war/murder, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.5k

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

Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

A Summer’s Ball | Kingdom of Gu, present day

The next few days were just as tumultuous as the first, Chan and Korenna slowly progressing from treating each other with complete silence, to short-lived bickering, to finally being able to hold a civil conversation for at least a few minutes. You escorted them to more ceremony preparation meetings, then to councils with the foreign affairs ministers, the historians, the priests, each one stressing how this union would be a stepping stone in your two kingdoms’ relations and they should think of it as a huge honor. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the both of them, being reminded over and over how their lives were simply a means to an end, to be controlled at the whim of their fathers’ aspirations.

A turning point finally came when the three of you visited the city surrounding the palace grounds, the prince refusing to miss his weekly visit to the village market. Chan loved to interact with his people, to support their businesses, to hear their grievances, to show he cared. You followed behind the two of them as you walked through the plaza lined with stalls, Chan waving to each of the merchants, Korenna watching him with a mix of reservation and admiration.

“Your people seem to be thriving. I wish I could say the same about our villages.”

You eyed Chan, knew he was forcing himself to hold back a biting remark, likely about how if Lajor’s people were currently suffering, it was the monarchy’s fault. He finally came up with a question, trying his best to keep the conversation going.

“Have you brought up your concerns to your father?”

“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say. All he cares about is what he thinks is right, no matter who suffers for it.”

Chan nodded solemnly, “I can understand that.”

Korenna gave him a somber look and appeared to have something more she wanted to say, but was promptly dragged off by a small child wanting to show her his father’s bakery stall.

You nudged Chan’s arm. “See, she’s not so bad, Your Highness. If you give her a chance.”

He started in the direction of the princess, turning to walk backwards and smile at you with his arms out in a lighthearted shrug, “If you say so.”

***

That evening the king was hosting a ball, to celebrate the engagement of the prince. You’d helped Chan dress, his midnight blue velvet ensemble and dark hair set off against the silver crown he wore making him look more like a deity of the moon than an earthly prince. Then you had gone to assist Korenna. You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as you watched her from across the room, her champagne colored gown and perfectly curled blonde hair standing out against the relatively muted colors worn by the other attendees. She was standing away from Chan, talking amongst a group of noblemen’s wives and other high powered ladies, but her eyes never strayed far from his back as he talked with Minho and some other knights around a wooden table in the corner.

“You look quite stunning tonight, Y/n. Purple is definitely your color,” came a deep voice on your left, and you turned to see Prince Felix approaching you, his small frame clothed in a breathtaking deep red suit. The younger brother of Prince Minho, Felix had the sunniest personality of anyone you’d ever met, quite contrasting to his voice but in perfect harmony with the bright smile he flashed as he reached your side. It had been several months since you’d last seen him, his studies as apprentice to your kingdom’s Chief Healer taking him to the academy in the highlands far away from the city.

“Prince Felix!” you exclaimed, arms reaching to pull him into a quick hug. “I could say the same for you; that red suits you perfectly, Your Grace.”

Felix laughed, releasing you from his hold. You and he had been close friends since childhood, ever since, at the age of 5, he’d stepped on the hem of your skirt and you’d pushed him into a mud puddle, causing guards to rush over and attempt to have you arrested. His mother and the queen had stepped in, calming the guards as you remorsefully reached out your hand to help him up only to be pulled down into the mud next to him, the both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

“I’ve missed the city. And it seems the city has missed me for all the excitement it’s spun up in my absence.” His eyes followed your gaze to where Korenna had made her way over to Chan, and watched as she led him out to the quiet balcony overlooking the gardens. “How are you taking all of this?”

“I’m fine, Your Grace. What reason would I have not to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

Felix fixed you with a knowing look, but dropped the subject, content to stand with you at the edge of the dance floor.

“Y/n, I thought I told you not to let Christopher and the princess out of your sight,” came King Bang’s voice from behind you. “The last thing we need is for them to get into one of their verbal sparring matches with the whole court present.”

You turned, lowering your head to the king. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

You left Felix next to the king, his expression turned to one of distaste at his new company, and walked quietly out onto the balcony where the couple was talking.

They were standing closer together than you had ever seen them, leaning forward against the railing’s edge. They seemed to be deep in conversation, Korenna actually reaching her hand up to place it on Chan’s back. It didn’t feel right watching them without their knowledge, so you cleared your throat loudly, causing both their heads to snap up. Chan looked slightly embarrassed, his head tilting forward, but Korenna’s expression was almost unreadable. She stood staring at you for a few seconds, then pursed her lips, nodded her head to Chan, and walked back into the main ballroom as you approached him.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Trust me, Y/n, you didn’t,” came Chan’s tired reply. You wanted to know if she had upset him, to know how you could comfort him.

“What were you discussing?”

A soft song started to make its way out from the half-open door. Chan looked up at you, completely ignoring your question.

“Dance with me?”

Several seconds went by in silence. He reached out his hand, eyes imploring you to say something, to say yes.

This was dangerous. You couldn’t think of a worse position to be caught in, dancing with a betrothed man far above your stature. But you also couldn’t think of a way to say no to him.

You took his hand and he pulled you flush against him immediately. You tried to resist the urge to place your head on his chest, but the feeling of being in his arms was too much, made you feel so safe. So you laid your cheek there and felt a low hum come up through his chest. It was quiet for a while, the two of you simply swaying back and forth, not doing any particular dance. You felt his head rise from where it had been resting on top of your head.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but you look gorgeous tonight Y/n.”

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness.”

“I know. I wanted to tell you again.”

Then he placed his head back down and you continued to spin in slow circles until the song ended. He brought your movements to a stop, taking your hand and kissing the top of it as he leaned forward in an exaggerated bow, “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

You looked at him with a small smile. “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

He returned your smile, turned, and walked back towards the party. You felt your chest tighten, feeling a little too much like your dance had been his way of saying goodbye.

Thinly Veiled Threats | Kingdom of Gu, 6 years ago

“Watch out!”

You turned towards the direction of the voice just in time to see Chan break through the wooden fence in front of you, thrown off his horse by the force of the lance he just took to the chest.

The prince had just turned seventeen, which made him eligible to compete in the annual Four Kingdom Competition, where knights, lords, and even royalty from the continent’s four greatest kingdoms met to determine who among them would be crowned victor in a series of strength tests. His father had of course insisted he enter on his first eligible year, which had led to the activity you were currently engaged in, training a boy who was used to classrooms, libraries, and diplomacy lessons the intricacies of hand to hand combat. The tasks ranged from archery to sword fighting, wrestling to jousting, and while Chan knew his way around a broadsword and shield, it was clear that the latter of those was not going to be Chan’s strong suit.

You walked calmly towards where he sat on the ground, knowing he would only be more embarrassed by any attempts to rush to his aide. He was sitting up, so you could tell he wasn’t badly injured, but his right hand still stretched across his abdomen to clutch at his left side. He’d been hit there at least three times now, and if you had to guess, what was once a bad bruise was more likely a patch of broken skin at this point.

Voices floated around you as you pushed your way through the small crowd that had gathered around him, many asking the prince if he was alright or giving unsolicited advice on how to avoid the outcome he seemed to be cursed with. You picked up on the voice of a squire, one who served the boy who had knocked Chan down most recently, as he nudged the side of the older boy’s arm.

“You could have gone a little easier on him, you know. His mother just died.”

Great. Just what you needed; a physically and emotionally wounded Chan.

“Alright, give him some room everyone. His Highness is fine; go back to your own practicing.” You shooed away the stragglers and knelt so Chan could wrap his free arm around your neck, hoisting him up and slowly making your way to the infirmary tent. Leaning him against the side of a cot, you reached for the clean cloth and distilled vodka; this was going to hurt like a bitch, but Chan could take it.

“You’re pulling back too much and too early, it leaves your side vulnerable,” you said, carefully easing off his ripped tunic so you could tend to his wound.

He stayed silent for a few moments, fingers gripping harshly against your shoulder as you cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

“I…,” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words he was looking for. “I’m a coward. I’m a failure and a coward and everyone knew it except me, until just now.”

His words knocked the wind out of you. You knew he was ashamed (entirely unnecessarily) when he couldn’t hold back the tears at his mother’s funeral while his father maintained his perfectly stoic expression (that heartless bastard), knew he was self-conscious about his fighting abilities, but you’d never heard him express that insecurity so directly before.

“Your Highness,” you spoke softly but forcefully, hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eye, “you are one of the bravest men I know. You have one of the hardest burdens a person can bear on your shoulders, have had it since you were born, and you carry it with grace and dignity and compassion. You inspire me and countless others every day with your strength and generosity. You are not a coward.”

He looked back at you, and suddenly you felt yourself being engulfed in his embrace, his legs parting to pull you close to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around your chest, his head pressing into the crook of your neck. Slowly you brought your hands up and began to rub small circles on his bare back. This was the most emotion he’d shown since that night you stood beside his mother’s bed, watching as he held her hand and whispered all the things he wanted to tell her one last time. You were a little overwhelmed, but mostly happy, happy that maybe he was feeling again. Eventually you heard his quiet voice next to your ear, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Then he released you from his hold, donned his shirt, and walked back to the jousting pitch. You watched him go, until a deliberate cough came from behind you, shattering your reverie.

“I suppose he’s lucky to have you.” The words spilled from the king’s mouth, his signature gravelly voice seeming to chase all other sound from the tent.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, I hadn’t noticed you were here,” you spoke, bending into a curtsey.

“It seems it is quite easy for the two of you not to notice others when you think you are alone.”

You blinked, unsure of where the king was going with his remarks. He sidled up to you, close enough you could hear him at a whisper.

“I may have owed your family a debt, but that has been repaid ten-fold. I know my son, know he would never be led astray of his responsibilities unless you gave credence to those thoughts in his head, fed his intimate physical desires. So do not delude yourself into thinking you can take him from me, little servant girl. And if he ever does come to me, asking me to set aside our laws, our traditions, so he can marry you, I’ll know what you have done, and you will never see the light of day again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied with your response, he left you there, his words staining your mind like the bloody cloth you clutched in your hands.

The Hunt | Kingdom of Gu, present day

How he managed to get his father to agree to this you had no idea. But Chan always was very convincing when he needed to be.

You were preparing for a day’s long hunt. In all honesty it was an excellent idea; it would give Chan space to be himself after having been shut inside the palace for two weeks, preparing for his impending nuptials. Normally this was one of your favorite activities to do with Chan and the knights; getting to ride, to spend time in the woods, maybe use your bow. But the one condition of the king’s agreement had been that Korenna was going too.

She’d been different with you, with everyone really, since that night on the balcony, avoiding attempts to make small talk and speaking harshly when she made requests. You didn’t want your relationship with her to turn sour, seeing as you’d soon be serving her for the rest of her life (and yours), so you held your tongue and pressed on with your duties.

Chan’s black courser and your chestnut palfrey were saddled, and you were in the midst of preparing a well-tempered white mare for the princess.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

You looked up, seeing the dark head of hair and upside down smirk belonging to Prince Minho smiling down at you as he leaned over your kneeling frame. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

You were not as close to Minho as you were to Felix, but you had always gotten along well, your similar sense of humor and affinity for archery solidifying your friendship.

He offered his hand to pull you up, which you accepted. “I’m glad you will be joining us on this outing, Y/n. I’m not sure I could handle Chan and Korenna on my own, even with 5 other knights to accompany me.”

You hummed in agreement, finishing attaching the bridle around the mare’s head. “I’m not sure you could either, Your Grace.”

Minho let out his signature high pitched laugh as the rest of your party approached, and the two of you maneuvered to the front of the pack as you set off towards the nearby woods. You all rode in silence for a while, riding not typically being an activity that required much talking, until you heard Korenna speak from her position next to Chan in the middle of your group.

“So, who is the best at the strength tasks of the Four Kingdom Competition?”

A strange question to ask so out of the blue, but you supposed it was somewhat relevant to the situation at hand.

“His Highness is an excellent swordsman,” you replied, looking back slightly in their direction.

“Sir Jeongin has given us all a run for our money in the wrestling ring,” you heard a voice from the back say. He must be one of the other knights in your party.

Chan replied next, “Minho is a skilled horseman, beats me in the joust nearly every time.”

Minho’s eyebrows rose up at that, smirking as he rounded out the answers, “And Y/n here is an expert marksman. She’s the best I’ve ever seen with a bow.”

You thanked him mentally, hoping he could read it in the look on your face. You weren’t about to boast about your own talents to the princess, but it was nice to know that she was now aware you weren’t just some lovesick girl who followed the prince around, that you actually took your responsibilities seriously.

“Really? And who taught you about archery, Y/n?” You thought you heard a touch of menace in her normally high pitched voice, but brushed it off.

“I’ve had many teachers, Your Grace, but the first was my father.”

“How very… non-traditional. Where is your father now? I’d love to meet him.”

You saw Chan and Minho tense in their saddles, well aware of what your answer would be.

“He died, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” said Korenna, her voice noticeably softer now, “I apologize for bringing up a sore subject.”

“It’s alright, Your Grace,” you replied. “It was a long time ago. You couldn’t have known.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group then, but luckily your first planned stop was not far ahead. A small grove of trees surrounding a clearing was where you usually began the hunt, splitting off in different directions and meeting back there before sundown. But because you had the princess with you today, it was a more laid back affair, and you’d planned to have a picnic of sorts before you continued in earnest.

Everyone set about unpacking the sacks that carried your meal for the day. You uncorked your canteen, taking a sip before heaving an exasperated sigh.

You’d forgotten to bring extra water for the horses.

You called over to Chan, where he stood spreading out a blanket for Korenna to sit on.

“Your Highness, I’m going to the creek to get water for the horses.”

Chan looked up and you could see the smile on his face from where you stood across the grove. “I’ll go with you!” he said happily, only to have his arm tugged back by the princess next to him.

“You are not a servant, Chan. I’m sure Y/n can go by herself.”

Your loud conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group, who were all looking over at you in interest. You were surprised by her bluntness, but she did have a point. “Her Grace is right, I don’t need you to accompany me, Your Highness. I simply wanted to tell you where I was going.”

Chan gave a side glare at Korenna, but agreed. “Fine, but you shouldn’t go alone. Sir Jeongin - “

A tall boy, clad in the red, black, and gold uniform of your knights, walked over to the prince. He was no more than eighteen, must have only just taken his oath. You remembered his name from the earlier conversation about the strength tests, impressed he was making a name for himself so early.

“ - please accompany Y/n to the stream to fetch water for the horses.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

So the two of you set off, leaving the rest to their meals. You didn’t really need a knight for protection, but your heart warmed at the gesture of Chan not wanting you to go alone. You arrived at the bank of the creek and began filling some extra pouches you had brought with water.

“It’s so much quieter here,” Jeongin commented absentmindedly.

Despite the sound of the water running, you agreed it did seem calmer here than in the grove you came from. As you knelt by the edge of the stream, you noticed large patches of grass surrounding some nearby trees had been pressed down. Curious, you walked over to the area, observing the singed ground and muddy boot prints on the rocks, telltale signs of human presence. You hadn’t run into anyone else on your walk over, but maybe there were some others out riding today. Raising your head, you called to your companion, “Sir Jeongin! Were there any other hunting parties out today?”

“Not that I know of, Miss,” Jeongin replied, his expression revealing he was rather confused by your question.

You looked around again, and that was when you noticed the torn piece of blue fabric latched to a jagged branch on a nearby tree. Your blood ran cold and you grabbed Jeongin’s arm, breaking into a run.

“We need to get back to them. Now.”

You’d made it about half way back to the grove when you heard a scream, you and Jeongin sprinting to reach the clearing. But when you arrived, the scene was entirely not what you expected.

Your mind had immediately gone to the Lajorans when you spotted that piece of cloth on the tree. But here you stood, watching men clad in your own colors raise their swords to clash with the group of knights who’d accompanied you and the royals. Your eyes frantically searched among the chaos, looking for Chan, but before you could spot him you noticed Korenna, hiding alone behind a large rock at the edge of the treeline. You pulled Jeongin back behind a tree, gesturing in her direction.

“Do you see the princess over there? You’re going to grab her, get on a horse, and ride back to the palace now.”

Jeongin was looking at you with wide, scared eyes; his mouth was open, not making a sound.

You shook his shoulder. “Sir Jeongin, do you understand me? Do not look back at us, just take the princess and get her to safety. I need you to do this.”

Your words seemed to finally reach him, and he set his mouth in a straight line. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good. Go. And don’t look back.”

He left your spot behind the tree and you turned back to the action in the grove, still trying to find the prince. Finally your eyes landed on two men standing back to back, swords flying as they blocked the attack of about 6 different men.

Chan and Minho.

You started towards them, reaching for your own sword, when you spotted someone perched in a tree right outside the circle of men. The attackers started to pull back from around the two princes, and you could see exactly who the archer had in his line of sight.

You screamed his name, sprinting to cross the clearing and threw your body in front of him, arms outstretched.

You felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder as you fell against Chan’s chest, his arms coming up to catch you.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

Trumpets were blaring from the direction of the castle as Minho dragged Chan back, still desperately clutching you in his arms. The attackers were dispersing and you heard the sound of a voice saying “Chris”; it took a moment for you to realize it was your own.

“I’m here, Y/n, I’m here. Just hold on please. You’re going to be okay, just please hold on.”

The last thing you saw were his eyes as your vision went black.

Of Flower Buds and Roots | Kingdom of Gu, 16 years ago

“Mother, when will they be here?”

You were standing in the open-air courtyard at the front of the palace, your mother’s hands on your shoulders. The two of you had moved to the palace a few years ago, when your mother had gotten a job as a servant there after the war ended. Today, you were told, would be the day you were to start your position there, as personal attendant to the young crown prince.

“I’m sure soon darling. Remember we never rush royalty.”

As you waited, your eye was caught by a small boy standing with a large scary looking man. He looked to be about your age and was holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. The man seemed to be trying to take them away, but the boy clutched them to his chest. A woman who you thought you’d seen before approached them, glaring at the man, who backed away from the boy as she took his hand. Then, they started walking towards you.

Your mother tightened her grip on your shoulders, bending into a curtsey and pushing you down with her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“The pleasure is ours,” came the queen’s pleasant voice. She knelt down between you and the boy.

“You must be Y/n. This is my son Christopher, the prince. You will serve as his attendant.”

You stared at the boy, his eyes even with yours, hair mussed and shirt covered in dirt.

“He doesn’t look like a prince. He looks like me”

“Y/n!” your mother gasped, the queen chuckling slightly and calming your mother with a hand on her arm.

“You’re right, he might not look like one yet. But it’s going to be your job to help him become one. Do you think you can do that?”

You pondered her question and finally said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and stepped aside, placing her hands on Chan’s back and pushing him forward.

“Hi Y/n!” the boy said excitedly. “My name’s Chris. Or Chan. Either’s fine! I brought you these flowers! I thought they might look pretty in your hair.”

He extended his tiny fist holding the flowers and you took one from the bunch, pulling back your hair and putting the flower behind your ear.

Chan’s face immediately lit up in the brightest smile you’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling cutely. “I was right!”

From that moment on, you decided there was nothing you wouldn’t do to see that smile on his face.

{part 3}

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

tuxedo iii, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are

*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...

–

part i | part ii

You woke up slowly.

A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check.

Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check.

Wait…

What?

Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left.

Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear.

Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?

Ah, yup, check.

His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.

Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.

Hahaha…

Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?

Man.

Cat-man.

Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.

...

Unless?

No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–

"Are you dying?"

You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out.

"Urk!"

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."

You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you.

"Y-Your hand!"

Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"

What about it???

"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.

Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again.

HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???

"Is there a problem?"

IS THERE A PROBLEM???????

"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.

That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep.

Keyword: small.

"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.

"I'm still a cat."

"No, you're a man! With arms!"

"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"

WHO CARES???????

Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!

Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.

You froze.

He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.

Your soul left your body.

"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."

You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?

You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.

Hang on.

Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.

"Um."

Er...

"What?" your cat-man grunted.

"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."

"What about it?"

"You, uh... have morning wood."

"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"

A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.

"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"

"Yeah, so? It's cold too."

Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.

Not deal with it, of course.

You fainted.

"Fuck!"

You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.

Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.

(Ouch, roasted.)

"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out.

Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going.

You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove.

"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."

If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn.

"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.

"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.

"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease.

"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."

Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you. As for being an animal, well…

You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.

"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"

"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."

He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly.

Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Right, so should I, goodbye now."

You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse.

"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball.

"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place.

"I like you."

"Hah... wait, what?"

Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow.

"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.

You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could.

“... Urk?”

“Noona.”

Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?

Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.

"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"

Respectfully, of course.

"How much rice do you want?"

You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.

"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."

And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.

Awesome.

“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”

“Meat.”

You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”

“What else is there?”

You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”

“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.

You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”

He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”

He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…

“Okay, I ordered it.”

“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”

After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?

Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.

You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.

Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.

Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.

Yeah, it’s a weird world.

You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.

“Woof.”

You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.

“Gah!”

You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.

He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”

You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”

Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”

“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.

You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.

“Your phone is flashing.”

You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.

You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.

“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.

That moment wasn’t even that long ago.

Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.

“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.

Now…

“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”

Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”

He shrugged again. “I was bored.”

“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”

He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.

“Yup.”

Sigh.

You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…

(You already know the answer.)

Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.

“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.

“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”

“I selected next-day delivery.”

You paled.

“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”

You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”

“Mhm.”

You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.

You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?

You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.

“What… are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Investigating.”

You blinked. “Investigating what?”

“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”

You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.

His expression was completely neutral.

For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.

“Uh… okay…”

You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

My… wallet…

F in the chat.

You fainted.

You felt someone poking you in the head.

“Are you dead?”

You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.

“Did I spend too much?”

You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.

“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”

He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.

You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”

For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”

Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“Do you wish this never happened?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”

Human me.

You answered instantly.

“No.”

Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.

You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”

His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”

“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.

“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”

“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”

“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”

He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”

“Right.”

You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.

You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.

A certain quality.

A certain quality of... of...

Needing the money.

Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves.

Sigh.

"I ordered the wrong color."

"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet.

The reply was instant.

hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE

You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more.

"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up.

Your jaw dropped.

You dropped your phone.

Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it.

It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope.

You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–

Oi!

No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say?

This is just an ad?

Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–

STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!

Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone.

At a very specific number.

He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.

What did he have, really?

A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree.

Loneliness.

He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything.

He shouldn't have played it off.

He shouldn't have distracted.

Not after he admitted it.

"I like you."

Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that.

Ah.

He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.

Sigh.

You sneezed.

Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

You sniffed, rubbing your nose.

"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered.

Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"

Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.

Wait.

Man or cat-man?

Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.

His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers.

There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh.

Whoa.

"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs.

Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch.

Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket.

Oh.

Oh???

Oh!!!!!!!

"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone.

Oh…

Right. The tail.

Because he's a cat... man.

Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.

"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt.

You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him.

Yoongi was right next to you.

Literally so close that you could feel his body heat.

"... Urk!"

You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second.

Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…

Yoongi slapped you in the face.

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.

“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.

Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.

“You hit yourself pretty hard.”

He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.

Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?

Is that even a question?

Yes.

Yes, you were.

“You look like you did last night.”

“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.

“Heartrate increased.”

You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.

“And that smell.”

You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.

You swallowed.

“S… smell?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?

You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.

“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”

Right?

Seconds passed.

Right???

Minutes passed.

RIGHT???????

Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.

“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

Yoongi kissed you.

You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.

It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.

Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.

You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.

He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!

“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.

You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”

“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”

You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”

All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.

Yikes.

Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.

“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.

Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”

Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.

His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.

“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”

And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!

But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.

“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”

You whimpered, losing it.

Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.

Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.

Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.

You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”

“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.

Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”

“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.

Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.

“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”

You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”

“Only a little.”

He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.

“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”

part iv

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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fleurlia · 3 years

Text

here is part two of this.

[7:13 pm] for all the phases you have been through in the past few months, all of them were disastrous. a couple of months after jeno has told you about his proposal karina and he appears with new rings, explaining to everyone how both just choose to make things more swiftly and not wait until graduation.

you already knew it but that didn't stop you from spending at least twenty minutes crying pathetically in the ladies' room.

certainly when you thought things couldn't get any worse, believe me, they did. you were convinced for the moment karina asked you to help her choose the dress. again, you couldn't blame anyone against yourself.

renjun and donghyuck stood next to you, holding their laughs as she was asking for help in the most loving way. just for when she was gone the duo were shouting loud and attempting to comfort your poor heart. following that, you saw yourself sat there watching karina trying on more than a thousand wedding dresses, for getting married to the love of your life.

it would be easier to hate her if she was a bitch and 20% less attractive. you thought.

and talking about him, you couldn't even hold his gaze without looking weepy and bitter. your friendship existed only by devices, which you believed would be turned off the moment he said yes to her.

after a year of planning and torture, the big day has arrived and even though you have created every possible excuse, none seemed good enough to not going to your best friend's wedding. including a sweet smile, your mom comforted you as you got ready for the wedding, holding up tears and making yourself at least looking attractive on the worst day of your life. you asked more than once for your mother to be merciful and to fake an accident but she keeps telling you how could you get over it if you didn't see "the dead body".

instructed to stay at least a few minutes late, you made everything possible to be delayed. not wanting to arrive and have to deal with the reception and face the bride and groom. not craving to deal with the fact that if you held more than five seconds alone with jeno, you would presumably tell him the truth that was stuck in your throat. then when you arrive everyone was already at the ceremony, your entry causing a small noise that drew attention. jeno's eyes catching yours immediately.

the couple looking supremely beautiful, like always. the dress that karina and you have picked just not fits her but makes everyone around her look poorly ugly. oh my god, i hate myself so much. that was the only thing going through your mind.

sitting down next to renjun, he sends you a glance. "it's almost ended, i thought you were not coming."

"as if i were that lucky"

he chuckles but gently takes your hands. even though you said more than a thousand times that you didn't want anyone feeling sorry for you, he tried his best to make things a little better.

while the minutes started to grow, your mind stopped a few more every time that ceremony got close for the "yes". holding up every tear you possess in your body, you almost failed as the old lady next to you smile in your direction and whispered;

"what are you from the groom??"

"i... i am his best friend, since freshman year at college."

"oh, that's why he is looking right here all the time."

quietly you agreed with her, not even daring yourself to look up and catch all of his stares. the moments pass with you staring to anywhere, you couldn't even look at them without feeling your chest squeeze in sharp pain.

"so lee jeno, do you take this woman as your wife to lover her, respect her, and looking for her?"

wishing to not stand there or even existed, you were close to starting to crying but renjun squeezed your hands and all that people heard at next was; "yes, i do."

lee jeno, the love of your life just got married... but it's was not whit you.

later on, — this including the time you spent crying and sobbing in the car — you were supposed to go to the celebration and that's is what you did as a supportive friend.

the first hour was going like a blink, you have to pretend so much happiness that the idea of the newlyweds just got blanked out of your mind. it was the last straw when jeno's sister approached you with a gentle smile, you could feel her pity just by the look on her face and you felt even more miserable when she said it in a low tone: ''i always thought that on a day like today, you would be my new sister.''

that hurt so much.

the rest of the night passed like a blur, a slow and painful blur. you had taken so many pictures and you were sure that you looked ridiculous in the picture with the bride and groom, donghyuck and renjun were there to support you but your false happiness was quickly destroyed by jeno's stares.

almost at the end of the celebration, everyone full of the food and tired from the dancing, people decided it was time for the speeches and in the crowd of invited people you hid behind your friends. if by any chance the universe hated you that much you would be chosen to give some words and you were ready to make a whole speech based on rose's in "love, rosie". it would be tragic.

karina's mother said beautiful words to the couple and praised jeno so much that you at that moment felt happy for him. many relatives passed by, all of them talking about how perfect they were for each other and at end wishing them happiness. you felt like a jealousy bitch at every second.

almost at the end of all your torture, you already agreed that renjun or one of his friends would take you home because you didn't even want to talk, it was the newlyweds' turn to speak. karina sounded so perfectly in love with every word she spoke out. you were thankful to be far away from the couple because your stomach flipped as you watched jeno stand up, straightening his suit and black hair.

you were about to get up and walk away, not wanting to hear about how much he loved her and was grateful to be married to her but after a second thought, you knew you would draw pitying and pitiful glances in your direction.

"i can give you more than a thousand and one reasons about how i ended up here, married to karina." his soft voice echoing throughout the room. "one of them is because sometimes... we don't notice that what we need is right under our noses. sometimes we even notice... but only a few people dare themselves to confess their love to that person.'' at that point nobody else understood where he was getting at with that speech. just like all evening, you didn't attempt to look at him and be unlucky enough to find him also watching you.

''one more reason why we are here, on this particular night, is that maybe i took too long to realize, waited for too long. i wish i could confess this earlier because... deep down i always knew it was you. the love of my life and my best friend.''

something inside of you clicked. back when you started to date, jeno looked you up one day and you fought, he was just being jealous that your then-boyfriend also claimed to be your best friend and you didn't say anything, the point is that he would never call karina his best friend. on that day, both promise never forgets about their besties and never, never calling anyone ''best friend''.

nobody knew about that.

"if... if i could only go back in time... maybe i would tell myself how i should confess to you.'' you looked up, getting his gaze. you stood surprised when you noticed that his eyes were tearing up. ''if only i had known that we would be here today. i never would have let your lips leave mine years ago, on new years'. i never should have walked away. i never should have panicked. i never should have lost all those years without you... because i've realized that no matter where you are or what you're doing, or who you're with, i will always honestly, truly, completely love you.''

you couldn't believe in your damn bad luck.

you couldn't discover what was more pathetically tragic. the fact that karina would watch the video of her wedding in the future and see her husband confessing his love to someone who wasn't her. or the fact that jeno had chosen his wedding day to acknowledge that he loved you.

karina never kissed him on new year's, their first one was in a cinema. only you did, once in your second year as friends. you two never spoke about it.

karina didn't like romantic comedies, she was a literature major and only liked movies that was focussed on classics. you did. you had made jeno watch "love, rosie" so many times that you both knew the script.

with tears rolling down their cheeks, the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like hours. he loved you too. you both now knew about the other's love. inaudibly while you wiped your tears you both agreed that; maybe in another time, another life, we were meant for a happy ending. but not here, not at this moment.

but it didn't matter, only you two knew how much you loved each other and always would.

ok guys, sorry for making this so long and for any mistakes. let me know if you wanted to me doing scenarios, reactions or timestamps or even let my asks open for requests.

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mrsmctominay · 3 years

Note

sanch fluff alphabet pls xxxx

Fluff Alphabet- Jadon Sancho

A- Activities He loves being in the kitchen with you. He will always be looking for new recipes for dinner or baked goods that you can cook together, or if you're already cooking something he will find a way to help.

B- Beauty Your determination in life is so attractive to him. The way that you won't give up until somethings done or you will always go back to fix it if it's not done correctly. You will never leave something half done or half asses. It gets done right or not at all.

C- Comfort Jadon isn't AMAZING with feelings, but he sure tries his best. He thinks that he doesn't do a good job but there has never been a time that you've been left upset when he's around. He will pull you into his chest and stroke your hair until you've calmed down before talking to you to try and figure the situation out.

D- Dreams He doesn't talk to you much about the future, but he definitely think's about it when he is alone. He constantly imagines having a little him or you running around and what you would be like as a mum.

E- Equal Jadon is the type of guy that wants the media to think he's the dominant one, but deep down he is a big softie. He prefers when you take the lead when it comes to decision making and how to solve problems.

F- Fight He hates to admit when he's wrong, so he always expects you to apologise first. Sometimes you wait it out and won't talk to him for hours and usually he will apologise because he doesn't like not talking to you and he gets annoyed when you tease him for owning up.

G- Gratitude He is very good at acknowledging that you make him a better person and that you lit up his life from the moment you met. He tells you everyday how amazing you are and that he loves you.

H- Honesty He tells you everything and if he doesn't, its' because he forgot. He loves to gossip but he doesn't even realise he's doing it most of the time, it's just normal conversation for the two of you at this point.

I- Inspiration You inspired him to become a nicer and more open. Before, Jadon was quite cold and reserved. He didn't really speak about anything to anyone but now he's a lot better. The only thing he wants to work on is talking about and understanding feelings.

J- Jealous

Jadon has full trust in you so he knows that you're just fucking with him when you talk to guys in the club. He always dart's a dirty look towards anyone that looks at you with googly eyes.

K- Kiss

He was already practically an expert when the two of you had your first kiss, you however were not. He took it slow with you and told you exactly what to do and if you were doing a good job or not. It wasn't awkward at all because he made you feel so comfortable before and during the kiss.

L- Love

Jadon confesses his love through money. He would buy you anything you want in a heartbeat. You don't ask for much which annoys him, so usually he just buys whatever he thinks would look good on you or what he thinks you will like.

M- Marriage

He does want to marry you, but you've never really spoke about it. He wants to propose at some kind of party, be it your birthday or a christmas party. He wants to do it with all of your friends and family around.

N- Nickname 'My princess', 'My baby', 'little one' (these are the ones from dating would include). These are the ones he uses on the daily, he changes between them depending on what you're talking about but you always know what to expect.

O- On Cloud Nine He always brags about you to his teammates, like they can't get him to shut up about you. If he hears someone talk about something you like or if they do something that you do, he jumps right at them and lets them know. It's very clear that he is in love.

P- PDA He likes to show others that you're his and only his. He will wrap his arm around your shoulder/waist or hold your hand and if you've been out at night he will carry either you or your shoes.

Q- Quirk He's good at sensing when you're upset or uncomfortable in a public setting. He will either whisper reassuring things into your ear or give you a text to let you know that it's okay and that he is there.

R- Romance He's romantic in a funny way. He will buy rose petals just to spell out dirty things on the bed, or he will send you links to cheesy love songs when he's away. He never fails to put cute captions on posts/instagram stories of the two of you though.

S- Support He is 100% your biggest fan. He is always there to cheer you on. He supports you during your highs and lows and never fails to make you believe in yourself.

T- Thrill He will try something new but only if you want to. If it doesn't appeal to his s/o then it doesn't appeal to Jadon. So he definitely doesn't mind routine but he likes change every now and then also.

U- Understanding Jadon knows you well, like, way too well. He pays attention to you so well that its imprinted into his brain what you need at what time. It makes you feel comforted that he pays attention to you as much as he does.

V- Value Your relationship is one of the most important things in Jadon's life. He cannot imagine his life without you as you play such a huge part in it. You and his footballing career are level with each other in terms of most important, but as soon as he gets to where he wants to be, you will be no1.

W- Wild Card He always falls asleep on you. Whenever he gets home from training or a match he comes right over to you and falls asleep. It's hard to get him to move but as long as he's happy then...

X- XOXO Of course! I mean, this is Jadon were on about. He's just a big baby who would rather lay on you until your whole body is numb than anything else.

Y- Yearning He gets super grouchy when you're apart. He finds himself snapping at his teammates every so often or will be walking about with a sour face all day.

Z- Zebra He's not big on wanting a pet right now. Of course, in the future he wants something, maybe a cat.

#jadonsanchoangst #jadonsanchofluff #jadonsanchoblurb #jadonsancho #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho smut #jadon sancho #jadon sancho imagines #sanchosmut #sanchoimagine #sanchoblurb #sanchoangst #sanchofluff #sancho #premierleagueblurb #premierleaguesmut #premier league imagine #premier league

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xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 3 years

Text

Tease

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Teasing and then a little smut

Word Count: 2,441

Concept: It’s your birthday and Hong-Joong wants to make sure it’s a night to remember. Eumak-juseyo [Cue the music please]

Masterlist

“Why?” you demand of Yeosang. “It’s Halloween. It’s my birthday even. We gotta go out. Why do I have to wait here?” Yeosang thinks it over.

“You gotta,” he informs you gravely. “Hong-Joong-hyung said don’t let you leave.”

“Um, okay…” you agree cautiously, curious as to what that little minx has been planning. “Yeosang…” you call after him, as he turns to leave.

“Mwo, noona?” he asks, face carefully impassive.

“He’s not...gonna do anything silly is he? He knows we’re not meant to be...you know…” you clarify, avoiding eye-contact with the younger man. You still see him smirk out of the corner of your eye, although neither of you mention the ‘situationship’ between yourself and Ateez’s leader.

“He knows,” Yeosang reassures you. You note that he doesn’t actually answer the question.

“Right,” you grin, choosing to let it be. “I’ll just wait here then, shall I?” Yeosang nods politely and then heads out of the room, leaving you frustrated and alone in your costume.

Turns out it doesn’t take long before the boys all arrive, mysteriously sans Hong-Joong, but carrying all manner of sparklers, decorations, loud party favours and an extravagant cake. You welcome them all in happily and clear the table for them to deposit their treasures. Everything is suitably festive and you spend a while comparing costumes and working out who everyone is meant to be, before the lack of your paramour becomes too evident to escape comment.

“Um, where’s…” you start, confused, but Seonghwa shushes you and San guides you over to a seat to feed you some cake.

“Mm...you got mint chocolate?” you ask him, sharing his excitement. “How did you get away with that one?” San laughs.

“It’s your birthday, noona and I know you’re on team mint choco after all, so I insisted.” You’re enjoying the whole vibe, even if Joong’s absence plays on the back of your mind, when Wooyoung advises you eat something else after finishing your slice of cake ‘just in case’.

“Mm-hm...so he is here then,” you guess, following his advice hurriedly as you hear ‘Havana’, as covered by Kim Hong-Joong, start up over the sound system. Yet not even you could have predicted the next move. One by one the boys dance around into the middle of the room, making you laugh with their antics, but then, just as Yunho is completing his routine, the music stops, scratches and begins again, louder this time prompting Yunho to beckon with his hand across the room to the door that leads further into the building.

And through that door stalks your illicit lover, barefoot, avoiding all eye contact and dressed, he claims, as a tiger. Yet his costume consists only of a cute headband with fluffy tiger ears attached and what might, at a stretch be called a collar - the black choker, studded with silver that circles his slender throat. The rest of his outfit entails a pair of ripped and torn black skinny jeans, a studded belt, black denim jacket and a silky black button-up shirt with the top three buttons teasingly undone. He laughs and swats Yunho jokingly away as the younger man tries to dance with him, then continues into the middle of the room as the other boys loiter behind him. Then, once he knows he has your undivided attention, he flicks his bangs out of his eyes, juts his chin towards the ceiling, letting his eyes follow, and then flips his jacket off one shoulder, dropping into a hip roll. Yunho darts back towards him, but he turns away, rolls his hips again and then keeps going while lifting the back of his hand to his forehead to cover his eyes, with a cheeky smirk. The others play along, pulling his jacket almost off as he continues to wiggle his hips and fake-stumbles forwards to stop right in front of where you’re sitting.

Looking at the ceiling again, he flips the jacket the rest of the way back off his shoulder letting it fall to the ground, grabs his belt buckle and works those hips hard, throwing you suggestive looks in between his staged-indifferent glances at the ceiling. Finally he turns his head away so that you can see his jawline and the shape of his pretty mouth as he drags his hand back through his hair and away from his face. When he turns back to face you, he fake-coyly covers his face with his hand again, drags it slowly down, as his hips swivel and then bites at the air once, then again, before breaking character and giggling at himself. The others are in fits of laughter as well, but you’re still staring at him in wonder and not a little turned on by his performance. You shake your head at his giggles with a little smile and he laughs loudly and claps his hand over his mouth, embarrassed, but when he tries to sit in your lap, you wave him off teasingly.

“Ani, ani…” you reprimand him lightly. “Finish your dance, go on. I was enjoying it...maybe a little too much,” you purr, giving him a meaningful look. His big, dark eyes sparkle with mischief and he gets to his feet again and stalks away from you, deliberately using his hips, then turns back to face you, runs his hand down the opening of his shirt, as he rolls his hips like a pro, then pulls it away and quickly back, flashing you his collarbones. The other boys are not quiet during this risque floorshow, of course. Hong-Joong is followed by whoops, cheers and clapping as he grabs his belt buckle again and performs a series of flawless body rolls, with an adorably cheeky smile. That is until he gets it into his head to fling himself onto the ground and grind his hips like he’s humping the air upon which Mingi swiftly intervenes, marching over to pull his pocket-sized hyung to his feet with a warning yell: “Ahhhhh! Stop that! Too far!”

Hong-Joong giggles with wide-eyed protests of his innocence, then prances out of Mingi’s reach before flinging himself back at the ground and humping the floor this time.

“Right, good, good, enough!” Mingi objects, pulling his hyung to his feet again. Hong-Joong feigns innocence again and then winks at you, before smacking his hand against his own thigh and grinding his hips.

“Mingi!” You gesture for him to move aside. “Let Joong finish his dance, okay?” you object. “Who knows, he might be transmitting vital information to me about what order he likes it in bed, and now you’re ruining the narrative,” you joke. Mingi and San make fake-retching gestures while the others laugh gleefully, except for Seonghwa, who looks like he’d rather just unsee everything he’s seen in the last five minutes.

“Hong-ssi!” you call over to him. Having been somewhat sulkily watching the others tease him, he now cocks his head on the side and gives you an aegyo pose. You laugh and shake your head at him. “Stop that and finish your dance. You've obviously spent a lot of time preparing it," you acknowledge, earning yourself another of his bright, pretty smiles. He spins once, recentres himself with a cute little pout, and then sashays over to you and kicks his legs over your thighs to lower himself onto your lap, with one hand supporting him from behind so he can thrust his hips forward.

Head lowered Hong-Joong gives you a smoking-hot look, up through his eyelashes, somehow managing not to break his character as your heart thumps in your chest, sending you giddy with desire for him. Seonghwa grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. Mingi yells in protest, Wooyoung woops in encouragement and the others are still giggling but noticeably more nervously than they were before. You ignore everyone but your pretty tiger-boy, who is now writhing in your lap, as he slowly and sensuously unbuttons and then divests himself of his shirt. You dart a glance at Seonghwa and mouth ‘am I allowed to?’, gesturing at Hong-Joong’s now-naked torso. Seonghwa looks aggrieved, but shrugs, indicating he has no idea nor opinion on the subject, so you resist the temptation and keep your hands by your sides as Hong-Joong climbs off you, pirouettes so that he’s facing the rest of the room, and then sits back in your lap, facing away from you, arching his back like a cat and reaching behind himself to grab your neck and pull you, finally, into a messy kiss.

You wrap your arms around his waist to pull him closer and he makes a cute, pleased noise, but then pulls himself away and stands up, turning to face you, with his hands at his belt buckle. You hold your breath as his fingers work the buckle undone and he flips the top button of his jeans undone, but at this point even Seonghwa shuts him down, dashing over to bend his leader’s arms behind his back.

“Alright, Hong-Joong-ssi! That’s quite enough of that - none of the rest of us want to know what colour your panties are, thank you.

“Mwo?! Hajima!” Hong-Joong yelps, as he twists about, trying to free his trapped wrists from Seonghwa’s grip.

“Wait, wait, wait…” you object, trying to pacify Seonghwa without upsetting his pretty captive. “Why don’t you guys take five...ten even and go investigate the event situation downstairs? I’ll stay here with this little tiger and let him finish his performance, okay?” Hong-Joong’s pout quickly transforms into one of his devilish smirks, knowing his hyung can’t see his face from his vantage point. Seonghwa’s shoulders drop as he sighs his agreement to the proposal.

“Fine,” he allows with another exasperated sigh. “I know he’s been working on this all week, but I thought he was just going to do a muck-around kind of sexy dance and then let it go. I didn’t know he had a full striptease planned,” he defends himself. You give him an incredulous look and shake your head, amused.

“Seriously, Hwa? Does Joong ever do anything by halves?” you point out. Seonghwa shrugs in acknowledgement. “I mean you know him better than I do, so I don’t know what you were expecting, in all honesty,” you laugh. Seonghwa calls to the others that they’re all going to go set up downstairs and they readily agree, chasing each other out the door and leaving Seonghwa to release Hong-Joong’s wrists and follow them out, shaking his head at you both.

Hong-Joong rubs his wrists experimentally, resets his music and then returns to his theme, stalking back and forth in front of you like the tiger as which he’s ostensibly dressed. He gives you a showcase of some of his sexier moves while he waits for a suitable section of the music and then picks up where he left off, swivelling his hips where he stands directly in front of you, and then slowly unbuckling his belt before unbuttoning and unzipping his skinny jeans with his crotch at your eye-level. You swallow hard, trying not to give in to the temptation, as he bends down to your face level, locking his gorgeous dark eyes with yours and then starts to slowly ease his jeans down over his hips and off his legs, never once breaking your intense, smouldering eye-contact until he’s left in only his tiger-ears, the silver jewellery he never seems to be without...and scarlet-red boxer-briefs.

You try not to stare, though you can quite clearly see the outline of his evident erection through the cotton of his knickers and it’s becoming almost impossible not to touch his naked chest with his dark nipples standing up perkily and his gorgeous clavicles just begging to be kissed. He doesn’t help matters by stalking across the room, dropping to his knees and literally crawling across the floor to end his performance with his head resting on your lap. You raise your hand to stroke his hair gently away from his eyes and he sits back on his knees, cute, with his hands neatly on the front of his naked thighs.

“Can you do the last part, noona?” he asks you softly. “I’m shy.”

“Now you’re shy?!” you dispute him incredulously, with a disbelieving giggle. He nods, unabashed, adjusts his eyelashes with his pointer finger and then looks at you expectantly. You shake your head, trying to stop a smirk from sneaking across your lips, and stand up to lead him over to one of the futons that management leave out for the members to nap on, once they’re no longer trainees.

“C’mon, doll. Let’s take care of this little problem of yours then,” you tease him, deliberately brushing his erection with the tips of your fingers and making him gasp, then moan softly. You pull him down on top of you, kissing him as you get your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and slip them down his legs. He, in turn, pulls the short skirt of your costume out of his way, tweaks your knickers aside with his one unpainted fingernail and then thrusts himself into you with a loud groan of relief, rocking his hips back and forth as you wrap him in your legs and pull him against you.

“Oh my God, ne! Fuck me, Hong-ssi! Harder! Harder-oh-GOD!” you moan, encouraging him. “Oh my...shibal...you were so hot, teasing me with that dance, you know that?” you tell him, between kisses. “I wanted to touch you so much!” He giggles, obviously happy with himself, and keeps kissing your neck and down onto your chest as you praise him. It doesn’t take long before you feel yourself clench around him and then the release of your orgasm floods you, making your whole body tingle with pleasure. You cling onto Hong-Joong, wanting to make sure he finishes as well, wanting to reward him for all his efforts. You can feel his breath hot on your neck as his moans get louder and his hips pump faster and faster until all at once his body shudders and you feel him fill you up, before he collapses next to you, panting for breath.

“I guess we should go downstairs so I can see what other fun and games have been planned,” you tell him with a little smile. He winks and sticks his tongue out teasingly.

“My present was definitely the best though, right?” he checks. You kiss him softly on the lips, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Definitely,” you reassure him, making him beam as he follows you over to collect his discarded clothing and dress himself.

#kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop story #kpop fan fiction #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #ateez scenarios #kpop scenarios #ateez story

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ilydenji · 4 years

Note

Please do a pt 2 of toxic traits that had kenma, kageyama, and Tsukishima. Please make it fluff in the end🥺. I loved it

❝toxic pt. 2❞

↳haikyuu boys toxic traits part two

characters: kenma kozume, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei

warnings/tw: toxic relationships

a/n: I'm so glad you loved the first one !! I hope this is good enough afndjsmsj

(this kinda long sorry lmfoaodjrnf)

part one here

kenma ;

-its been a few weeks since the two of you had talked properly.

-you did what he wanted, you had broken up with him.

-it felt weird going back to your regular life as if nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend half a year with him.

-it did hurt when you realized he didn't even care. that day when you walked away from him, you doubted that he gave it a second thought.

-but, unknowingly, the whole situation was slowly eating kenma up with guilt.

-after your breakup, he briefly had talked about it with kuroo and that’s when he realized how much of an asshole he really was.

-he missed it when you watched him practice, apparently, the other members of his team did too.

-“where’s y/n? are they okay?” lev would ask the most.

-“they broke up idiot- if you’re wondering how they are ask them yourself” of course, yaku would hit him for even mentioning them.

-up until now, kenma never noticed the little things that you did for him. how you would praise his hard work after practice or a game.

-how you would softly comb your fingers through his hair while playing games. or how you would bring him lunch every day in case he forgot to eat.

-not only that, but he started missing the little things about you as well.

-how your nose would scrunch up when you laughed,

-when you would hold his hand, you’d always rub circles on his thumb.

-how you would hum when playing with his hair.

-all those things, why hasn’t he realized them before? why did he let you go?

-why did he hurt you so bad?

-he wanted to— no, he needed to apologize to you.

-he wanted to be with you again, though he didn’t really think he deserved you anymore.

-he wanted to try anyway.

-you received a text from him in the afternoon. you were hesitant to answer. what could he be asking for? his hoodie that he left a month ago?

-when you finally decided to answer it, it read-

-“Can I please talk to you.”

-he wanted to talk now? he had a chance weeks ago. months even.

-you just sighed and texted back saying yes. he asked if he could come over and you agreed, maybe things would end off on a better note? you’d be lying if you said you didn't miss him.

-when kenma came over, he looked different than how he usually did. he didn't have his psp and he didn't use his phone once.

-he slowly walked to your bed and motioned you to sit next to him.

-“I’ve been a big fucking asshole to you, y/n. I'm so sorry I treated you like that.” he would start.

-he ended up apologizing for everything and told you he never realized how much care relationships need.

-“you deserve so much better. it’s selfish of me to even consider the fact you’d take me back but. I missed you a lot, I'm so sorry for hurting you.”

-you wanted to be with him again, to hold him and tell him it’s alright.

-instead, you rest your hand on his shoulder with a squeeze.

-“it's okay, it’s fine. I messed up along the way as well.” you’d start. kenma kept the same stoic expression he usually had. but you can tell in his eyes, he was hopeful.

-“but maybe we don’t belong in a relationship. maybe not yet at least.”

-kenma understood what you meant.

-in the end, the two of you had agreed that to ever get back into a relationship again he had to work on letting himself be vulnerable around you.

-he had promised to be better for you, and wait until you were ready to be with him again. although you had promised to be with him sometime in the future, the pang in his chest didn't fully go away.

-the day ended with him in your arms, comforting him.

-his arms were wrapped around you, his head in the crook of your neck.

-“kenma, I still love you. you know that right?”

-kenma didn't exactly answer. instead, he pulled you closer to him. you could feel his smile against your neck.

-you both still loved each other but decided to take it slow this time. not wanting to hurt each other.

kageyama ;

(reader is into photography bc that's the only thing I could think of I'm sorry lfmsoakedjdnsn)

-it’s been a few days since his last game, where he basically told you that you “clearly didn’t love him”

-in those few days, kageyama couldn’t explain what he was feeling.

-he always had trouble expressing his emotions. so he often ignored them.

-but this time, there was a pit in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. whenever he looked at his phone he would be tempted to call you.

-he wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea, but the silence was killing him.

-one day during practice he had asked hinata if he had seen you.

-hinata nodded and told him you were out in the courtyard doing club activities.

-kageyama didn't know you were in a club? though, he hardly payed any attention to that stuff.

-he wondered how he could be so clueless, you two have been together for months.

-that day, he skipped practice. that on its own was a whole different story.

-he managed to find you outside, taking pictures of the flowers and anything remotely interesting you could find.

-but no matter how mundane, kageyama didn't fail to notice the smile you had.

-he recognized that look in your eye, that was the look he had whenever it came to volleyball. how could he have not realized how happy your little hobby made you?

-he wanted you to be happy, to see you smile with so much passion like that.

-kageyama approached you cautiously, trying not to scare you.

-“what do you want kageyama?” you started. it startled him a little.

-you didn't need to turn around for you to know he was there. hinata had texted you that kageyama was coming, of course.

-“Nothing... I just.. missed you I guess” he sat down next to you. neither of you had talked, it became awkward fast.

-“so... you like photography? I didn’t know”

-“of course you wouldn't.”

-kageyama cringed at the words. you weren’t wrong in the slightest, he had been ignoring your interests for the longest and he feels like such an ass for it.

-“I'm sorry for not paying attention” he stated. you nodded at his words. but that wasn’t enough for him.

-“I should’ve payed more attention to you, it’s my fault I got so caught up in my own head” still, you didn’t say anything but you did turn your attention to him. progress he thought.

-“I should’ve realized that this, is just as important to you as volleyball is to me.” he rested his hand on top of yours. in return, you squeezed his a little. he smiled softly.

-“I’ll give you more of my attention from now on. okay? I'm sorry y/n. I love you, I really do.” he finished. and that’s what you wanted to hear.

-you wanted him to acknowledge his wrongs and apologize. you knew kageyama struggled with his emotions sometimes but he would eventually come around.

-you rested your head on his shoulder.

-“did you really skip practice for me?”

-“of course I did”

-by the end of the day, kageyama had learned that relationships aren’t just a one-sided thing. that you cant constantly be supporting him without him supporting you.

-he promised to you that no matter what it is that you would do, he would be right by your side cheering you on.

tsukishima ;

-the days had turned to weeks, and tsukishima was barely paying any attention to you. after your little fight, it was clear that he wouldn’t say a word until you said something first.

-but you were scared to.

-how could you not be? his teasing crushed your self-esteem.

-you would notice things about yourself that you never saw before. picking at your skin for the tiniest imperfections.

-or even trying to change your appearance in any way you could to seem different, but in the end, tsukishima didn't pay attention.

-but someone else did, yamaguchi. he was close to tsukishima and knew what was going on.

-he was the first one to comfort you after your fight with your boyfriend. he promised to you that the things he said weren’t true and he never meant it.

-yamaguchi was slowly replacing tsukishima as the days went by. still, the two of you remained friends.

-“I think you should talk to him, y/n. he misses you I know it” he told you one day. he was on his way to practice and asked you to come with.

-you didn't know if that was really true but you decided to put your trust into him.

-instead of going into the gym yourself, you waited for practice to end nearby. you didn't want to be a distraction.

-when practice did end, tsukishima and yamaguchi ended up being the first ones to come out. yamaguchi was smiling as he yelled out for you. tsukishima stayed silent.

-walking towards the two made your anxiety rise. it was nerve-wracking honestly.

-the three of you ended up walking to the gate before yamaguchi told you that he had somewhere to go first and he’d meet you two later.

-after that, it was just the two of you. you noticed how although his house was in the opposite direction, he still walked with you. you smiled a little at that.

-“So what’s up with you and yamaguchi?” he said bluntly. the abrupt interaction kinda scared you a little.

-“Nothing, we’re just friends. why?”

-“nothing. I just don't like seeing you all friendly with him.”

-“Are you jealous?”

-“I guess so”

-his words were so blunt it left you confused.

-you asked him how he could say something like that when he’s been ignoring you for days. and not only that but just straight-up bully you.

-tsukishima stayed silent at that. he had stopped walking at this point, and so had you.

-“listen. I'm sorry for saying those things to you, I was just stressed and took that out on you. I never meant to hurt you y/n, I mean it” you knew tsukishima wasn't the type to talk so openly about how he felt.

-he probably meant it.

-it doesn’t take away the fact that it hurt you. you told him what his words had done to you, that you had tried to change yourself for his approval.

-at this, tsukishima brought you into a hug. he held you close to him, softly petting your hair.

-“I'm sorry y/n, I’m sorry for taking it too far, for making you think so low of yourself. I promise you I never thought those things about you, I was just mad. I should’ve never taken it out on you.”

-at this point, you didn't know if you should be happy about it or cry.

-“it hurt tsukki.” was all you said to him.

-“I know. I'm so sorry y/n, I understand if you cant forgive me.” he pulled away from you to move your hair away from your face, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

-“I understand that I’ve hurt you. you don't need to forgive me. but please know that I love you so much.”

-afterward, tsukki ended up walking you home, holding your hand the rest of the way.

-he knows things might not go back to being the same, but he’s willing to work on letting you past his walls, being nicer towards those he loves, you especially.

-you know old habits die hard and that relationships aren’t always easy. but this was a journey you both were willing to take. both learning from each other to make sure this never happens again.

——-

I'm really hoping this is okay uh- I tried to make this as wholesome as I could but continuing the theme from last time. I might have to just make fluff has for these three after HANDFJDNN (i’m also very sorry for my terrible english @(*$@*(24)

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0littlestwolf0 · 3 years

Text

Straight to Hell Pt. 2

Ship: Percy Jackson x Reader

Warnings: just a bit of crying towards the end.

Requested by: @msmissinghome

Author note: I swear I wanted to put a fight scene at the end, but I just couldn’t shake this thought that if I managed to get out of Tartarus, on my own, and then be hugged by Percy I would cry all my fears out. I’m sorry it took me so long, I tried to find a better ending.

Also @tobios-shawty here’s part two! I hope you like it!

Silence was a funny companion.

It had a way to make you uneasy, to creep inside your skin and force you to destroy it, to scream it away or to laugh your way through it.

Percy thought he would never be a prey to silence, after all, it was always the apocalypse around him, someone was always fighting (him for the most part), chasing, or running.

But right now, deep in the shadows, he couldn’t catch a single noise, he could barely register his grip on the back of Nico’s jacket as he shadow-traveled them.

What was that place supposed to be anyways?

Or, better yet,

How in Hades did Nico manage to find a path through it?

He didn’t know, and it didn’t matter much to him at the moment, his senses, his brain, his entire body was only focused on finding you, on getting you back.

Maybe on another circumstances he would’ve thought about how that same dark landscape would probably make for some really nasty nightmares, and yet, he doubted he would even remember it.

He was just finally adjusting at the darkness when the light came back, dazzling him.

And then Nico was on the floor, barely able to pull himself to his knees and hands, breathing heavily.

Percy took a calculated look around him, his right hand gripping Riptide tightly, he didn’t recognize his surroundings, but as far as he could tell, there were no monsters in sight “What happened? Are we there yet?”

The king of ghosts only replied with a sneer and a roll of his eyes

“What is that supposed to mean?” Percy asked as a sudden, all-too-familiar rage filled him, he couldn’t waste any more time, because what if you made it and he wasn’t there? You would’ve walked through Hell only for him to not comply on his side, not opening the doors on his side.

“Asshole” Nico mumbled “The doors are in Greece” he said as if it explained everything, Percy looked around, and even though the surroundings were new, probably somewhere in Italy, it wasn’t Greece.

“We aren’t in Greece yet” Percy added, the rage filling his every word with venom.

“We were just in Manhattan! Traveling here took almost all of my strength!” Nico yelled, breathing between words, and only in that moment did Percy fully acknowledge him, the bloody nose, panting, even the shaking.

He felt as though he was being stabbed with guilt over and over again, the entirety of his situation made his eyes water, but he forced the tears away rapidly, he didn’t deserve to cry, he scolded himself, besides, that would do nothing to either save you nor help Nico.

“I’m sorry” he apologized wholeheartedly “I’m just-“

“I know, just shut up and let me regain my strength so we can get to her” he cut right through his words

Percy bit his tongue until he felt a metallic taste and nodded, his eyes skipping trough the town they were in until something clicked, a building with very specific windows

“I know this place-“ he whispered to himself, trailing off at the end, there was no way he’d been there, and he didn’t have social media or watch enough TV to recognize it from anywhere.

Nico rolled his eyes again “I said-“ he trailed off looking at the same building “oh”

“Oh?” Percy repeated “You know this place?”

Of course he did, Percy rationalized, he’d probably been there before, but then again, why did Percy felt like he knew it too? Maybe some type of deja vu?

“You don’t?” Was Nico’s answer “She has a photo of this place that she parades with her wherever she goes, you must’ve seen it”

Oh, now the son of the sea understood the sentiment.

“I did, but she never really told me about this place”

Nico scoffed “Well of course she didn’t! She hated being here”

Percy had figured that much, you never talked about your childhood more than strictly necessary, sometimes even going out of your way to drive any conversation away from that topic.

But,

“Why?” He didn’t realized he wondered out loud.

“Her mortal parent, for starters, abandoning her” Percy realized Nico still looked angry, but now the anger wasn’t directed at him “forcing her to raise herself from childhood until she was taken to camp”

Still, it worried him further, that anger he was escaping was directed at one person that should’ve been close to you, someone who you should’ve relied on that abandoned you, pretty much like he thought he was doing by not being there with you already.

Gods he needed you.

But, he’d get you back, and once he did, he’d never let go of you again.

The resolve compressed his heart a little, but he accepted the feeling, from now on, you’d have someone to rely on that would never let you down.

That, he was willing to swear on the Styx.

***********

Had it been entire days or mere hours you just couldn’t tell.

Nothing really changed in Tartarus from the second you fell in, nothing but the multitude of monsters hunting you down.

Trying to track down the first demigod they’d seen since being killed by, most likely, another demigod just like you.

But your resolution never once wavered, you were getting out, one way or another, you hid until you had slaughtered one of them, not quite killing, just creating a gush big enough to sprinkle some ichor in your clothes, enough to change your scent but not so much as to tear through the entirety of the fabric.

Eventually, with a new limp, and a few ugly wounds that would soon enough turn into ugly scars, you got to the door.

A heavy sigh left you, and suddenly you became an anxious mess altogether What if Percy hadn’t made it? What if they finally realized that you didn’t belong with them? That after all you were still just walking anxiety coated on fear and deep rooted issues?

Maybe they’d finally realized that they’d be better off without-

You couldn’t allow yourself to keep thinking like that, you couldn’t give up on yourself because knowing them, they wouldn’t give up on you.

It was Percy Jackson for crying out loud! He wouldn’t give up on anyone! Less of all you.

So, with a burning throat after swallowing your fears and an ever growing tremble on your body did you step on the elevator.

And you waited.

And waited.

The fear was eating you whole when you felt it beginning to move.

You forced yourself to stand up, leaning against a corner for support and taking a hold of your weapon.

Then the doors open and you lunged forward, wanting nothing more than to get as further away from the entrance as you could.

“Whoa!” Exclaimed a voice you knew too well as your blue-green-eyed boy held your face

His eyes were finally letting go of all the tears he managed to contain, denying himself to even blink in case you’d disappear, he knew it was a stupid fear to have, but still, he wouldn’t dare to take the chance.

Suddenly you were pressed against his trembling body, it was a good match, you realized, with the both of you shaking there was a strange sense of stability.

“You’re okay, you’re here” he kept mumbling against your hair, over and over like a mantra or a prayer you couldn’t tell, it took you a moment to realize he was talking to himself.

“I’m out” was all you could say, a broken voice finding a way out of your closed off throat, it was funny how before that moment you’d wholeheartedly believed that your first thought after getting out would’ve been Percy.

It wasn’t.

Your first thought was how incredibly stupid you had been for jumping in the first place, I mean, of course you’d do it again but the matter at hand was that it was a very stupid move from your part.

Going to Tartarus? Where a thousand bloodthirsty monsters (who by the way had been killed by your kin) were? Poisoned air and burning rivers? The odds had been against you from the moment you landed!

By all means you shouldn’t have survived.

But you did, and finally all the tears you had suppressed came to life, Percy held you with unwavering arms as his own legs gave up and the both of you landed on your knees.

He held you as you screamed and yelled between tears, as you sobbed so much he thought you’d have an attack, because you were out of the woods now, all the fear and anger you suppressed could finally come out.

You hit him a few times but that was okay, he only held you tighter as his own sobbing became loud, breaking out all the way from his chest.

At some point in all the crying you felt an extra pair of arms around you, your first instinct made you stiffen until you saw black eyes full of worry, then you began crying again, and so did he.

Because now you were safe.

#heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #nico di angelo

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hotchseyebrows · 3 years

Text

it's a matter of seeing

a derek morgan x penelope garcia fic

a/n: hello again beloveds !!! today i present to you Another derek and penelope are kissing for the first time fic. what can i say, it's simply the best. thank you as always to the spectacular @blkantigone for being my supportive and helpful first reader and editor, love youuu! thank all of you for reading (im getting faster between uploads, have you noticed?)

title is from emily l. by marguerite duras. full line is "I don't know if love's a feeling. Sometimes I think it's a matter of seeing. Seeing you."

rating/warnings: gen audiences :) two vague allusions to sex but nothing even close to explicit, its more just in the way it exists in the background and derek is injured but it's superbly minor

read it here on ao3!

Derek steps closer to Penelope. “You had to see me. With your own eyes.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Yes, silly goose, that’s the usual way of seeing.”

Derek gets hurt on a case, and Penelope worries. He's fine, but she still worries.

word count: 2028

Derek glances at the time on his phone. Almost midnight, though it could be closer to 4 a.m. for how tired the team is tonight. A long case in Colorado kept them away from home for almost two weeks, and all Derek wants is to pet his dog and sleep in his own bed.

“Could this elevator ride be any slower?” Emily groans from where she’s leaning on the wall behind him.

“You know, Prentiss, I could have just gotten a late night taxi or grabbed one of the last trains.” Spencer is rocking back and forth on his heels next to her, a yawn growing on his lips.

“Nuh uh, kid, I’m getting you home whether you like it or not. I just wish you didn’t need that notebook from your desk tonight.”

“Sorry,” Spencer says, cringing slightly. Derek looks back to see Emily nudge his shoulder with a fond grin. Spencer’s shoulders relax.

“Why are you coming up, Hotch?” Derek asks the man in the opposite corner from Emily.

“Files.” Hotch stays facing the elevator door, only glancing at Derek.

“No way are you planning on staying here and working tonight– Hotch. We’ve been gone for two weeks–” (“Almost two weeks,” says Spencer. Derek waves him off.) “– you should be going home.”

“I’m just grabbing a few things. I’ll get back on this elevator with you.” Hotch glances at the time on his own phone then, unlocking it to open a text message from Jess. Derek sees a picture of smiling Jack for a split second before he looks away. “Jess is already expecting me.”

Derek hums in acknowledgement. He rolls his shoulder as the doors open and they walk towards the bullpen together.

“Shoulder still hurting, Morgan?” Emily asks. The day before they came home, one of the unsubs got the jump on Derek, tackling him to the ground. Emily easily subdued him, but Derek landed funny on a wayward pipe. His shoulder has been bothering him ever since. He nods in response.

“I’ll be fine.” Emily scoffs at him, but says nothing. He will. Eventually.

Spencer holds open the door for Derek. “Here, Morgan. So you don’t aggravate your injury.”

“Hilarious. Ha ha. When’s the stand-up tour? Have you been moonlighting at comedy clubs, pretty boy?”

Spencer sticks his tongue out at him. He quickly pulls it back in his mouth when he catches Hotch looking at him. To their surprise, Hotch cracks a small smile. “Reid has a point, Morgan.” Emily lets out a laugh that is more a cackle than anything.

“Evil. You’re all evil.” He walks through the held open door anyway.

Most of the desk lamps are off, the bullpen empty this late. But his chair is spinning slightly and his light is on. A mop of blonde hair, today a mess of curls with a large sparkly flower pinned at the top, bounces as the chair spins.

“Baby girl, what are you doing here?” Penelope spins to face him, a brilliant smile flashing onto her face immediately. “It’s late. You could have gone home hours ago.”

“Where’s JJ and Rossi?”

“Already in their cars on the way home. We all needed something from up here first.” She’s standing now, and he steps in front of her. “Don’t avoid my question, Mama,” he says, lightly tapping the tip of her nose.

Her smile falters, worry breaking through. “You got hurt.” Her eyebrows crease as she looks him over.

Derek raises both eyebrows. “Yea, but I’m okay. A little injury.”

The crease does not go away. “You got hurt. I don’t like when you get hurt.” He uses his non injured arm to pull her in for a hug. She wraps him in her arms immediately, her face pressing against his chest. The usual private shiver dances down his spine at the feeling. He rubs a small circle on the middle on her back as the tension bleeds out of her.

“See, baby girl? I’m fine.” Penelope picks up her head and looks at him. “Heart’s still beating. Blood’s still pumping. It’s just a little booboo.” She laughs at his word choice. “I’m okay. Promise.”

“You’re gonna rest at home? Ice it, or heating pad it up, or whatever you need?” He nods. “And you’ll call me if you need my help?”

“I promise.” She pops on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

Penelope tilts her head back and laughs. “I’m always cute, Derek Morgan. Don’t you forget it.” She never looks more beautiful than when she laughs.

“I won’t,” he says, moving his arm to her waist and walking them both to his desk. Spencer is closing his bag at his desk while Emily leans back in his chair, eyes closed.

“Okay, I’m ready,” says Spencer, nudging the chair with his foot. Emily blinks her eyes open, sitting up. “And I can drive, Emily, you’re more tired than I am.” She opens her mouth to argue, but a yawn comes out instead. She hands Spencer the keys without a word.

“Why are you here, Garcia?” Emily asks.

“Had to see my sweet love in person as soon as you got home.” Derek’s heart flips in his chest. “I worry,” she says simply. Emily nods, giving Derek a long look.

Hotch appears at the top of the stairs next to his office. “I’m leaving.” The unsaid addition of that means you are too rings out from the eyebrow heavy look he gives them all.

Derek grabs the file he needs and a novel his sister sent him from his desk drawer quickly. “Come on baby girl, I’ll walk you out.”

“My very own Prince Charming,” she says as she loops her arm through his.

Spencer starts telling Emily about a Russian film festival coming up in a few weeks as they lead the way to the door. Hotch is close behind, silent but listening. Penelope pulls on Derek a little and they follow.

She puts her head on his shoulder. On reflex, he kisses the top of her head. Not for the first time, he thinks about how easy it is for her to slot into place in his life. She just fits, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. There she is, a voice on the phone or the person spinning in his desk chair in the middle of the night solely because she needs to see him in person.

He falters as they walk through the glass doors. Penelope only makes it a few steps before she’s looking back at where he’s frozen, mind whirring. Emily is pressing the button to the elevator ahead of them. “Der?” Penelope asks.

“Why are you here?”

She tilts her head. “I told you. I worry.”

“You could have called Penelope. You did call, we talked on the plane.”

Now she blushes. She never blushes. “I had– I had to see for myself. I didn’t want to wait until Monday.”

A realization washes over Derek. “You had to see,” he repeats, a smile growing on his face.

She sways a little on her feet. “Yes, I said that.” The trio at the elevator notices them lingering by the doors, but Hotch stops Spencer from calling out with a knuckle brush to the forearm.

Derek steps closer to Penelope. “You had to see me. With your own eyes.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Yes, silly goose, that’s the usual way of seeing.” Derek takes another step, now only an arm’s length away.

“It’s midnight on a Saturday. And you waited for me here, alone.”

She nods.

“Even though we talked today and you know that I’m okay, that I’ve had worse injuries.”

She nods again.

“Penelope,” he says, voice barely a whisper. He steps impossibly closer. “Why are you here?”

A look of fear settles on Penelope’s face. “Derek–”

“No, it’s alright!” He grabs her hand. “I just need you to say it.”

She softens, something like hope lighting up her eyes. “If you need me to say it, then you already know.”

He releases a loud laugh– the kind of joyous sound that comes unbidden from the bottom of the stomach. Leaning forward, he rests their foreheads together, watching her reaction. When she smiles, he knows for sure. “Yea I do,” he says.

She leans in across the tiny distance between them and presses their lips together. Derek forgets about the lingering ache in his shoulder in favor of this new feeling. He swings an arm around her waist and straightens up, pulling her flush against him. She wraps her arms around his neck, a soft sound humming against his lips. He’s about to slip his tongue into her mouth and carry her off to an empty office when someone clears their throat from across the room.

Penelope pulls back first, automatically hiding her face in Derek’s neck. Emily is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch’s eyebrows are raised slightly, the ghost of a smile around his eyes. Spencer makes no attempt to hide his glee, fingers tapping together happily. Derek grins at them. “Can I help you three?”

“Just thought you’d want to carry on somewhere else. And the elevator is here.” Sure enough, Emily has a foot in the elevator door. She shows him her full grin this time. “Not that we weren’t having fun watching the show.”

He scoffs. “Next time, we’re charging a ticket price.” Penelope giggles.

“Next time?” she whispers.

He nods. “If you want.”

“Yes! Yes. I want. Very much so.” He smiles, a full eye crinkle 1000 watt smile, and interlocks their fingers to lead her to the elevator. She slots in right at his side, putting her head back on his shoulder.

They stay that way the whole way down and keep their hands together as they walk to the parking lot. Emily makes kissy faces as she and Spencer get into her car. Spencer waves happily. Hotch gives them a soft smile before he disappears around a corner.

Derek pulls her in for another kiss right next to Esther. Just because he can. “Follow me home?” he mutters against her lips. “We don’t have to… tonight. Next time. But I’ll make breakfast.”

She traces a spiral on his upper arm. “Okay. It’s a date.” He kisses the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle.

She gives him one more kiss before gently shoving him in the direction of his car. “The faster you get to your car, the faster we get home.” He blows her a kiss before jogging to where he parked two weeks ago. She catches it and puts it right over her heart.

The streets are almost empty as they drive, and Derek keeps pulling up next to her at stoplights to ask if she comes here often or if she wants to race. By the time they arrive at Derek’s apartment building, it’s almost one a.m. and they are both dead on their feet. Still, they stop to kiss in front of his elevator. They kiss again just inside of his front door and again when he hands her an old shirt to wear to bed. He has the urge to pinch his arm, just to double check that he’s not still asleep on the plane. But no, there she is, brushing her teeth in his bathroom with a spare toothbrush. He's never felt this kind of peace with someone else in his space. She has toothpaste on the corner of her mouth and her eyes are bloodshot from exhaustion. I love you, he thinks.

“What?” she asks. “You’re staring.”

Derek hums, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Do you blame me?" He grabs a tissue and blots away the toothpaste. It's a slight deflection, but it's not the moment for what he's really thinking. She scrunches her nose and smiles.

"No. You have good taste."

"Damn right I do, baby girl. The best taste."

They don’t kiss much when they lay in Derek’s bed, too tired to do much more than cuddle up together and turn off the lights. But Derek doesn’t mind. He’s already thinking about breakfast.

#morcia #derek morgan #penelope garcia #cm #cj.txt #denelope #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cjs fic #emily prentiss #spencer reid #aaron hotchner

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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A Caged Dove Part 4 (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)

Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not.

Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader Rating: E+ Word Count: 6.5k Chapter Warnings: Dubcon, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, breeding, praise kink, obsession, yandere Series Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, breeding, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stalking, yandere Note: Fairy Tale AU. (Still more Grimm than Disney). This took longer than I expected because it expanded beyond my expectations and I got a bit stuck. But I’m rather proud of how this chapter turned out. After this part, there will only be one more part and then this series will be finished! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter and find that it was worth the wait.

One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Finale)

It doesn't seem real as the palace erupts into a whirlwind of activity, the entire castle preparing for a royal wedding. In fact, it is the first royal wedding in years, as all of Prince Shouto's siblings have yet to marry.

It doesn't seem real that you have a wedding planner taking you through all aspects of the wedding, through the gown fitting, for the decorations, for the reception. So many choices in such little time that it has left your head spinning.

It doesn't seem real that you don't know how your parents are doing, don't know if they're even still alive and if you're doing this all for nothing. That he won't take you to see them, that he shrugs off the question every time you ask him, under the guise of not wanting to stress you before your big day.

And it certainly doesn't seem real as you're waiting to walk down the aisle, wedding music playing in the background and a smiling Prince Shouto Todoroki standing at the end.

His smile looks genuine, beaming and radiant as if this is simply a traditional wedding with a normal husband and wife. But you know full well the darkness that lay behind that smile, know how utterly wrong this whole thing is.

You pause for a second before you begin to walk down the aisle, mind running through all the scenarios that could get you out of this situation. But you know there is nothing left, nothing to stop this from happening. You pause for another second as you internally weep at the lost opportunities. At the thought that your father is still in a dungeon somewhere, unable to walk you down the aisle or watch his only daughter get married. At the thought that the one you truly wanted was murdered by the very man you're about to marry.

You take a deep breath as the wedding march begins to play and you start to walk down the aisle. All eyes are on you, smiling at the chance to watch such a historic event. You want to scream at them, to claw at their eyes until they're forced to acknowledge that something is very wrong here. But you don't. You simply plaster on a fake smile as you glance at each of them, noticing that nobody from your lands is in attendance at this event, no familiar faces to cling to.

You don't know why you would have expected any differently. Prince Shouto is determined to isolate you, take away everyone in your life that you could cling to for support or comfort, leaving only him for you to rely on.

You make it to the end of the aisle far too quickly and take up your place beside Prince Shouto. His gaze, to an outsider's perspective, may look loving. And perhaps it is. But it's also stark possession and obsession, with just a hint of triumph that he is about to get everything that he wanted.

"Now face each other and hold hands," the priest smiles gently. Prince Shouto instantly listens, turning to you and grabbing your hands as he pulls you just a bit closer. His grip is just a shade too hard, as if he's worried you'll run at the last minute. He has nothing to worry about. You know that there's no escape.

You glance over at the priest and wonder if he knows the truth of this sham of a wedding, if he would help you if he did know the truth. But you suspect that he genuinely does not. His happiness at being called to lead this occasion radiates out from him. But you know you've been fooled before. Nobody is to be trusted in this court.

"Prince Shouto Todoroki and Princess, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"I have come freely and without reservation," the Prince says with no hesitation. As he finishes the sentence and it becomes your turn, you feel your hands being gripped even tighter, this time to the point of pain. You're barely able to conceal your wince, to prevent everyone staring at the happy couple from seeing. The grip is a warning, telling you that you need to continue playing your part or there will be consequences.

"I have come freely and without reservation," you reply, a fake smile plastered on your face with your tone as happy as you can manage. Internally, you're screaming.

"Will you honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?"

As before, the Prince instantly agrees, and it becomes your turn. This time the agreement comes more naturally to you. "I will."

"Will you accept children lovingly and bring them up according to the law of the Todoroki Court?"

A bolt of panic runs through you, freezes your veins as your thoughts scatter away into nothing. How stupid to forget this part of the vow, to be surprised in front of such a large crowd. Your family's lives depend on you making it through this ceremony, of pretending you are happy to be getting married.

Prince Shouto is not taken aback at all by this question. Of course he wouldn't be, he had to have expected it. You wonder if you imagine the dark laughter in his voice as he agrees. But when the priest's eyes turn to you for your agreement, you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye and realize one thing. He's amused by this. Amused at your discomfort, at seeing you be forced to surrender to him.

"I will," you barely grit out between clenched teeth. The audience doesn't seem to notice your hesitance, or they least attribute it to nervousness from being married in front of such a large crowd. The priest doesn't notice either, smiling at you as he begins to instruct on the words for the next part of the ceremony.

"I, Prince Todoroki, take you to be my wife for all of time. I swear to be true to you and only you, to have and to hold, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only onto me. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Forever and ever."

Your heart sinks into your chest at hearing those wedding vows. You know they are not traditional to the royal family, having learned about them as part of your nobility and etiquette lessons. Surely someone must notice that something is wrong. But as you scan around the church, you see everyone gazing at you with looks of adoration. Some even coo at each other in soft whispers about how sweet this is, how clearly you're in love with each other.

You're brought back to reality as Prince Shouto digs his nails into the underside of your hand, warning you to pay attention. To recite the final words that will leave you bound to him, with no hope of ever breaking up the marriage. Royals divorcing or separating from each other simply does not happen.

"I, Princess Todoroki, give myself to Prince Shouto, to be my husband, to be yours for all of time. I swear to be true to you and only you, to have and to hold, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only onto me. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Forever and ever."

You are not even surprised at this point to find that nobody notices the difference in your vows. Even the priest doesn't seem to find it strange, as he claps his hands together in joy and says the words you've been dreading to hear.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Shouto wastes no time crossing the distance, wrapping an arm around you and dipping you as he claims your lips in a dominant and possessive kiss. It is far past the etiquette of court and downright immodest for a royal wedding. But everyone simply chuckles, commenting that Prince Shouto is so in love with his bride that he couldn't help but get carried away.

He lifts you up and pulls you into his arms, leaning down to whisper something that causes your whole body to shiver. "Now, you're mine forever, Princess," he chuckles darkly. "I told you I always get what I want."

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Everything becomes a blur of motion and activity after that. You're ushered away from the wedding chapel and into a separate room as you're freshened up by more servants than you know what to do with. They touch up your makeup, fix any hairs that have fallen from your elaborate hairstyle, and put the train of your wedding dress up into a bustle to dance freely at the reception. As they finish, a beautiful woman with silver hair and a kind smile on her face enters the room. She dismisses the servants with a wave of her hand before turning to face you.

"You're Queen Rei Todoroki." You instantly move to get off the platform where they had you as your dress was being worked on so that you can curtsy, but the woman shakes her head.

"That's not necessary." She examines you closely, walking around to admire your wedding dress. You don't say a thing, too intimidated at making a wrong move or giving away the reality of the situation.

"I know what you're going through," she says calmly. "I know this wedding is against your will."

Your eyes widen as you stare at her, wondering if this is some horrible trap. You keep your mouth shut in fear of saying the wrong thing.

"The same thing happened to me, you know. Enji forced me to marry him as well. The whole of the royal family knows what's happening."

"Then why is Shouto doing the same to me," you blurt out, "and why are you all letting this happen?" Fear slices through you as you slam your hand over your mouth, as if to keep more words from slipping out. What you just said, the tone you used could mean severe consequences when used against the Queen of the Todoroki empire.

"You don't have to fear me," she sighs as she takes in your panicked look. "And as for why we're allowing this, well. The answer is that no one here has any real power beyond Enji. And Shouto also has a bit more power than the rest of us as heir to the throne. And as for why, well, that one should be obvious."

"Obvious how? It's not obvious to me," you say in shock. "I never expected any of this."

"It's obvious because Shouto has been pressured into taking a wife for several years now, and he refused every single time."

"Then why now, and why me?"

"It's because of you that he refused, Princess."

At your confused expression, Queen Rei lets out a sigh. "He refused because the King was trying to match him with other princesses. One more beneficial to the country. But he only has eyes on you. It's always been you for him."

Your mind reels at the implications of this statement. "I wondered," you murmur quietly, "why Shouto chose me, from a smaller territory with little to offer, instead of someone more useful to the kingdom."

She gives a quick nod. "You're a smart woman. That is exactly why. And recently, Enji ruled that Shouto had to take a bride or lose his right to inherit the throne."

You let out a small gasp at that. "Prince Touya abdicated, so that would mean Prince Natsuo, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, and Shouto was not about to let that happen. He wants to rule this kingdom, to be the most important of the country. But your parents kept refusing offers of marriage. So he had to take desperate methods."

You cross your arms over your chest as you glare at her, anger at her building. "It still doesn't excuse any of this."

"No, of course not. But I wanted you to know the truth before you get thrown headfirst into the lion's den of court life."

Your anger deflates just as quickly as it came. There is no use in getting angry at someone who has no control over this situation and is at least trying to be honest with you. You don't thank the Queen, but you do give her a quick nod to show your appreciation.

"Good. I'll have the servants escort you to the reception hall." -------

As the servants lead you through multiple twisting hallways, you have the first opportunity of the day to take a breather and think about what's happened. You're married now. Officially. You have become Princess Todoroki, wife of the heir to the throne and future Queen. Like Queen Rei, however, you doubt that you'll have real power even when Shouto ascends to the throne.

You finally make it to the reception hall, where Shouto is waiting so that you can be officially announced as a married couple and walk in together. He smiles at you as he pulls you closer. "You're going to behave at the reception, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. There's nothing to be done anyway. Not anymore. You made sure of that."

He gives a deep chuckle. "Glad you finally came to accept it. Now let's go, the announcement is about to happen."

You walk through the ornate double doors of the reception hall to face a massive crowd of royalty and nobility, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to greet you both.

"Everyone, please welcome the happy couple, Prince and Princess Todoroki, future heirs to the throne of the Todoroki Empire!"

As you walk arm in arm with your new husband, you feel a level of despair you never knew you could reach. All of the noblewomen have smiles on their faces, but behind those smiles hide pure envy, even hatred. Envy that you were the one married to Prince Shouto and the one that will be Queen alongside him. Hatred that such a lowly noble as you has received the honor instead of them with their more blue blood backgrounds. If only they knew, you think bitterly.

On the other hand, the men also look on with envy. But it's envy directed at Prince Shouto, the man that they consider as having it all. The most handsome in the kingdom, heir to the throne, and now married to someone as beautiful as you. But you notice that they refuse to look you in the eyes, as if they're scared. You sneak a glance at your husband and see that his gaze turns cold whenever he feels someone has stared for just a hair too long. His gaze turns even colder as he turns and sees something.

"Well well well, you're the princess who caused my little brother to lose all sense," a profoundly sarcastic voice says from behind you. He has dark hair and glittering turquoise eyes, along with facial and hand burns that appear to go up under his clothes beyond the parts you can see.

He circles you like a shark circling prey, blatantly ogling you from head to toe before turning to Prince Shouto and smirking. "Gotta admit, I can see why. She's hot enough to be worth pissing the old man off."

"Your comments are unnecessary, Touya," Shouto grits out between clenched teeth. "I didn't marry her to piss him off."

With that name, you can now place the man in front of you: Prince Touya, the oldest of the Todoroki family, who should be heir to the throne. But the black sheep of the family never wanted responsibility and had deliberately ruined his chance years ago. The incident that caused his abdication from the throne has been hotly debated and believed to be what caused his burn scars.

"But it was a nice side benefit, wasn't it?" Prince Touya simply shrugs before leering at you. "And I wouldn't mind getting a piece of that -"

"Seriously Touya, do you always have to be so crude?" A larger, muscular silver-haired man sighs in exasperation as he appears behind Prince Touya. "I apologize for my brother, Princess. Although he is right on one thing, pissing off our dear old dad is always a nice side benefit."

"Something that all three of us can agree on, Natsou," Shouto remarks as he pulls you slightly closer into him, as if trying to stake his claim on you in front of his two brothers.

"All three of you need to behave and act like an actual family in front of the public," a feminine voice scolds. A small woman with silver hair streaked with red gives you a kind smile. "I don't think we've gotten to meet yet. I'm Princess Fuyumi, the only daughter in the family." She gives you a deep curtsy. "That makes us sisters now."

"We'll never be sisters," the words spill out before you can even think to stop them. Your eyes widen as you glance over at your husband to see his reaction. He does not look as furious as you thought he would be, choosing instead to glare at his oldest brother, who is snickering at your response.

"I know your circumstances for joining this family are unique, but that doesn't mean you have to be rude. I promise you'll get used to all of this and learn to love Shouto and the rest of the family."

You hear Prince Touya snicker again at the comment, while Prince Natsuo simply scoffs. Shouto says nothing, merely looking at you to gauge your reaction.

"Unique circumstances are putting it lightly," you say with a certain amount of caution. "But I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it." You leave out the part where you don't think you'll ever love any of them. It won't do you any favors to mention that.

"Don't be silly, of course you will. Mom did, and now she's very happy," Princess Fuyumi reassures you. Having met Queen Rei for all of 10 minutes, you strongly doubt this statement but choose not to push your luck in refuting it.

"Still living in a fairy tale where everything is just fine with this family, are you," Prince Natsuo's voice comes out bitter.

Prince Touya gives a deep chuckle. "Hey, if she wants to live in a world where the royal family isn't fucked up, then let her be naive. We still know how rotten royalty really is."

"Enough, all of you," a deep, booming voice rings out. "You are all still of the Todoroki bloodline, and you will act like it in public."

You instantly know who that voice is without looking. You had always heard that King Enji was a large man, but you were not prepared for the reality. This man is enormous, tall and bulky, with flames decorating his face and body. There does not seem to be an ounce of fat on him, his frame looking like pure muscle. A scowl decorates his face, and you are thankful that it is not yet directed at you and hope that it will stay that way.

But nothing in your life has been lucky so far, and so you freeze when the man turns his scowl on you. You think his expression softens for just a second as he glances between you and your husband, but you can't be sure that you don't imagine it as it vanishes before you can put words to what you saw.

"So, you're my new daughter-in-law." He studies you carefully, as if to figure out what Shouto sees in you. "As my son, Shouto is above his peers and could have had any woman in the kingdom. What made him choose you?"

After a moment's pause, you realize this question is directed at you, and he expects you to answer it. "I beg your pardon, King Enji, but even I am unsure. There must have been better options than me." You know that it's useless at this point to try and get out of this marriage, but you figure that it can't hurt to be on your father-in-law's good side. As the King of the realm, he could make your existence more of a living nightmare than it is already.

"Well, at least you know your place," he gives a sardonic chuckle at your diplomatic response. "You're attractive enough, and your quirk isn't so bad that your children couldn't have a strong combination from the two of you. He could have done worse, I suppose."

The reminder of children leaves you feeling shaky and nervous, and you barely stop yourself from taking a step back from the overwhelming scrutiny of King Enji's gaze. His presence is so strong, so intimidating, that it almost feels like a physical weight against your skin. You only feel able to breathe again when Enji turns to walk away.

"Now, I must attend to my wife and play nice with the commoners for a bit longer. You don't have to, though." He gives a meaningful glance at his son. Prince Shouto's lips curve up into a devious smirk as he nods at his father.

As he finally leaves, you finally relax a bit. You realize that at some point during that conversation, you tucked yourself even closer against Prince Shouto, as if you trusted him to protect you from his very own father. You quickly glance up at his face, hoping that he didn't notice, but when you see his satisfied grin, you know that he did.

Prince Touya sees the exchange between his father and brother and can't stop a laugh from bubbling up. "Yes, Shouto, why are you even still here? Shouldn't you be attending to your new wife now?" The emphasis on attending leaves little doubt on what he means. "Maybe you need some help? I'd be glad to -"

There's a grunt of pain from Prince Touya as Prince Natsuo gives you an apologetic smile before pulling his brother away from the two of you. Princess Fuyumi smiles politely at the two of you, waving her goodbye as she moves to follow her brothers. Prince Shouto ignores them completely as he turns to you.

"My beautiful wife," Shouto murmurs in your ear, "don't you think it's time to retire to the bed chamber?" Your blood runs cold at his words. You did not consider yourself foolish, as you knew this would be coming. But you did not expect it to be quite so soon. Maybe you really are, you muse to yourself, if you genuinely believed that he would wait for you a moment longer than he had to.

"But what about the reception?" You try to pull him towards the crowd of people again in hopes that he will be distracted, but he does not budge. "Don't you want to mingle a bit more? I'm sure more people want to meet with us" He simply smirks at you as he interlocks his arm with yours and pulls you even further away from the party-goers. "You heard my father. He all but dismissed me. And even if he hadn't - I don't care," he shrugs.

"All I want is you right now." You give up trying to pull away, realizing there is no use when he is so determined, and simply let yourself be guided away from the Grand Hall and down multiple winding hallways. He walks so confidently through them, knowing them like the back of his hand, and you soon find yourself standing outside of a massive, ornate red and white door inlaid with gold trim.

Prince Shouto's quarters. And now your quarter as well.

He pushes open the door smoothly before ushering you inside, locking the door behind him and wasting no time pulling you in for a heated kiss. He's possessive and dominating, devouring your mouth and massaging your tongue with his own. He reaches around to grab your ass, pulling you even closer into him and grinding his hips against your own.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, my wife," he sighs wistfully. "I have wanted you for so long, and now you're all mine."

He kisses down your jawline, licking and biting at the skin and sucking hard on your pulse point, hard enough that you know it'll leave a bruise. Your heartbeat is frantic as he continues to lick at your skin, trailing his tongue down the column of your neck.

He reluctantly pulls away from you, leading you further into the bed chambers and twirling you around so that he can begin unhooking your wedding dress. He struggles briefly with the complicated fastenings and buttons that make up the dress, and you can't stop a soft laugh.

"Do you need to call someone in and help with that?" You snark at him. "I was told it was rather difficult to get me into it."

Shouto lets out a small growl as you feel a flash of heat against your back, and a ripping sound as he pulls apart the now burnt ribbons and begins to slide your dress down.

"Do you know how expensive that thing was," you say in a shocked tone. From what you could tell, that dress was worth several years of salary from your whole kingdom, let alone your family.

"I'll buy you another dress, hell I'll buy you ten more dresses. But right now, I need to see you." He trails his hot fingertips down your now bare back, causing you to shiver and goosebumps to rise as he follows them up with cold. "I need to be inside of you, wife," he whispers seductively into your ear, and you can't stop the bolt of lust that runs through you.

He chuckles as he feels you tremble, pulling your dress down to the floor and coaxes you into stepping out of it. You stand in only your wedding lingerie, a fancy white ensemble that does nothing to cover your assets. He bites his lip and lets out a low groan as he takes in your appearance before lifting you up and gently placing you on the bed.

"God, you're even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmurs as he runs his hands up your sides. He steals another kiss before making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your heated skin until he makes his way to your breasts. He unhooks your bra with relative ease compared to the dress and wastes no time kneading the soft flesh there. He presses a nipple between two fingers, causing you to let out a soft gasp as he takes the other nipple into his mouth. He applies just the right amount of suction as he laps at you and works them into hardness.

You feel your panties begin to get wet, your skin feeling like it's on fire as he works your body like he already knows it. A finger slips underneath your panties as he traces a cold finger across your folds, causing you to buck away from the sudden sensation. He laughs as he slides down you, ripping your panties apart as if he can't even be bothered to waste time removing them.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, princess." He pushes your thighs apart as he examines you, causing you to burn with embarrassment and try to close your legs. He grips your thighs just a shade too roughly, nails digging into your skin as he snarls. "Don't ever hide yourself from me."

You give a quick nod as you slowly reopen your legs, and he slots himself in between them as he teases your folds with two fingers. "Fuck, you taste so good," he groans when he leans in to lick a wet stripe up them, beginning to devour your juices like a man starved.

You instinctively try to squirm away, the feeling so utterly foreign to you. But Shouto simply tightens his grip on your thighs again, hard enough to bruise as he growls at you. "Stay put, princess. You don't want me to have to tie you down, now do you?"

"N-n-no," you stutter, although whether it's in embarrassment or excitement, even you can't tell. "I'll be good."

He grins at your submissive reply before diving back in between your legs, lapping at your folds before spreading them open with one hand. He attaches himself to your clit, and you throw your head back at the intense sensations running through your body. You have never felt this good, never had anyone touch you so intimately. You reach down to tangle your fingers into his hair, bucking your hips up towards his hungry mouth.

He chuckles at your eagerness, the vibration of it only adding to your pleasure as you feel something building up inside of you. "Shouto, please," you groan, "don't stop, it feels so good."

He slips a finger inside your tight heat at your words, curling it upwards to press against your wet insides. You can't contain your gasps of pleasure, hand tightening against his hair even harder as you try to ground yourself.

Shouto doesn't seem to mind, choosing to suckle even harder on your clit while adding another finger and scissoring you apart at the same time. You realize with a flash of arousal that goes straight to your pussy that he's practically humping the bed as he eats you out, groaning at the friction against his rock hard cock.

The sight of it causes the pressure inside you to finally snap, tearing a moan of pleasure from your throat as you clench down around his fingers. He doesn't stop at your orgasm, continuing to thrust his fingers inside of you as he finds a spot that has you screaming out your pleasure to the room. You're overwhelmed by how good it feels, your first orgasm quickly followed up by your second as your body quivers. Your pussy gushes around Shouto's ruthless fingers, but you can't bring yourself to feel ashamed when he simply continues to lap up your juices as they squirt out of you.

You collapse fully back against the bed, unable to stop the shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Shouto finally removes his fingers, pulling away to smirk down at your blissed out look as he licks his fingers clean. You briefly wonder if he expects you to return the favor, and you find yourself asking the question before you can stop yourself. "Do you - I mean, do I need -"

Even though you can't bring yourself to finish the question, he understands your meaning anyway. "As much as I'd love your mouth on my cock, I'd much rather be inside of you already."

He quickly begins to undress, tearing clothes off when he can't remove them fast enough. His urgency has your pussy clenching, and you do nothing but watch until he stands in front of you completely naked. You can barely stop drooling as you take in his form. He is more muscular than you expected under his clothes, with very little body hair covering his chest. You trail your eyes lower until you see his cock, long, girthy, and already fully erect. "Like what you see, princess?" He laughs as he takes his cock into his hand, smearing the bead of precum at the head and using it to pump his length. He crawls up your body until he's straddling you, grabbing your neck lightly and using it to pull you up into another kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only fans your desire even more.

You feel his cockhead prod at your entrance, and your eyes widen as you feel how thick he truly is and realize that's about to be inside of you. "Wait," you stammer, "please go easy."

"I know it's your first time, so I'll go gentle," he smiles down at you, looking softer than you would expect. But then his smile turns up into a smirk. "At first, anyway."

At that, he begins to press slowly into you, inch by agonizing inch. Even though your pussy is soaking wet and he prepped you, the stretch still burns as he slides past the tight outer ring of your muscles. You whimper in pain, a tear running down your face that he kisses away as he shushes you. "It'll only hurt at first, I promise," he comforts you, reaching down in between your bodies to rub his thumb on your clit to distract you from the pain.

Finally, he's sheathed fully inside of you, balls pressing against your backside as he stills to let you adjust to his size. Your walls feel so tight around his cock, and he's barely able to contain himself from instantly pounding into you. But he wants this to feel good for you too, so he continues to rub tight circles on your clit, causing you to pant and clench down around him.

The stretch of your walls around his thickness no longer burns quite as severely, and you already want more. "I think, ahh, I think I'm ready," you manage to gasp out.

He doesn't question you further, choosing to take you at your word as he begins to finally move. His length drags against your sensitive walls, allowing you to feel every vein and ridge on his cock. It only increases your pleasure as he sets a slow but hard pace, pulling almost entirely out of you before thrusting all the way back inside.

"Finally," he moans, "finally you're truly mine." He grabs your legs and traps them against his body, lifting your hips so that he can fuck down into you. Your ankles are resting against his shoulders as he pins you down with his body. "I'm going to fill this pussy up with my cum."

You don't consider the implication of his words immediately, too distracted by how deep he is inside your aching pussy in this new position. But that quickly changes as words begin to spill from his mouth as his pace increases.

"God, I can't wait to see how big and swollen you look when you're pregnant with our baby. You're going to look radiant." His moans get louder and his thrusts get quicker inside of you. "I'll pump you so full of cum, every single night until you're finally knocked up."

Your eyes widen in fear as the impact of his words hit you. You are not ignorant. You knew that there would have to be the eventual talk of children. But you were naive in thinking there would be a discussion, maybe even a way out of it. You had no idea that he already intended for you to be pregnant.

"Wait, wait," you fumble with the right words, "not yet, we don't have to do this yet." You try to reason with him, but when he adjusts his angle to thrust against a spot inside you that has you seeing stars, you find yourself unable to think of anything at all. The thickest vein running down his length presses against that spot, grinding against it as he pounds into your pussy so hard that your breasts bounce.

"Going to be so full of cum that it spills out of your pretty little pussy, ahh, fuck you feel so good," his grunts are bordering on primal now. You try to move, plant your legs into the mattress, and get away enough so that he doesn't cum inside you, but he simply presses down even harder on your body. The weight of him against you has you gasping for air, the lightheadedness as you try to suck in air only increasing the intensity of your pleasure.

His rhythm becomes erratic as he nears his end, thumb grinding down hard onto your throbbing bead as he seeks to make you cum alongside him. "Ahh, Shouto, please," you whimper as you throw your head from side to side, toes beginning to curl as the pressure inside you continues to build up.

Finally, he thrusts himself as deeply as he can, pressing hard against your cervix as you feel thick ropes of cum shooting inside of you. He groans into your ear as you feel his cock pulsing inside of you. You can't stop your orgasm, pussy clenching hard against his cock. Your fluttering walls seem to suck his cum even deeper inside of you, and the position you're pinned in lets not a single drop slide out of you.

Shouto smiles down at you as you come down from your orgasmic high, both of you panting and sweaty. "Shh, you were so good for me, princess," he coos gentle words at you as he kisses away tears that you didn't even realize were there. He uses his cold hand to trail along your skin that still feels like it's on fire, cooling you down as he holds you tightly against his body.

You squirm to get out from under him, but he instantly stops you. "No, we're going to stay just a bit longer like this. Can't have any of my cum slipping out."

You can't seem to stop shaking, the reality of your situation finally hitting you hard. "Shouto," you whisper, "can I ask you something? And get an honest answer?"

"Anything, my wife," he murmurs as he plays with your hair and continues to cool you down with his hand. "I will never lie to you."

You're afraid to know the answer to this question, not even sure if you want a yes or a no. But you have to ask it anyway. "Do you - "you swallow hard, "do you actually love me? Or did you simply want a wife and children, and it didn't necessarily matter who with?"

You feel a moment of satisfaction as you see him look surprised for the first time. But that satisfaction is quickly squashed when you see his face fall, looking desperately crushed at your question. "Of course I love you," he whispers in a pained voice, "and I have always loved you. This was never just about a wife and children. This was about having you as my wife, and having children with you." He pauses for a second before adding, "You're going to be such a great mother, you know. And a great queen to stand by my side."

You close your eyes as you begin to tremble at his response, unsure if the emotion overcoming you is relief or not. Unsure if you'll ever be able to reciprocate his feelings, or if you already do and just won't admit it even to yourself. Unsure if you're ready to become a mother, to become Queen, to become Shouto's one and only.

But you are sure of one thing.

To a caged dove, none of that matters.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

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