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runnning-outof-time · 2 months

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I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)

Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.

Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 2537

A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.

• when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.

• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).

• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.

• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?

• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.

• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.

• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.

• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.

• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.

• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.

• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.

• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.

• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.

• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.

• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.

• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.

• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.

• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.

• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.

• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.

• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.

• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.

• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.

• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.

• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.

• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.

• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.

• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.

• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.

• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.

• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.

• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.

• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.

• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.

• and then Polly's birthday came.

• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.

• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.

• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.

• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.

• maybe he should have thought this through...

• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.

• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.

• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.

• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.

• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.

• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.

• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.

• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.

• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.

• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.

• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.

• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.

• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?

• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.

• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.

• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.

• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.

• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.

• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.

• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.

• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.

• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.

• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?

• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.

• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.

• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.

• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.

• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.

• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.

• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.

• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.

• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.

• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.

• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.

• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.

• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby headcanons #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders headcanon #tommy shelby headcanon #peaky blinders headcanons #fanfiction #fanfic

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tarjapearce · 9 months

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Lips anon! I must have the royal au version of it just imagine 😩

Our King deserves a treat 🤭

So far your stance at the Arachne's Kingdom had been a breeze. You'd spend your days painting, embroidering, writing letters, knowing more of Arachne's kingdom. Your relationship with the king of course was still strained.

It had been just a couple of times you had sat and ate together, or did anything together really. One of your fond memories with him was you taking a stroll with him through the castle. Talking about meaningless things, giving bashful smiles, trying to get closer to him.

Little moments of him being gentle with you, gave you hope. Of. course you wouldn't expect things to just click suddenly. You knew with patience you could get there.

Your paintings had improved significantly, and the little conversation among the court only sparked a new idea for you.

"Did you hear?"

"Captain Reilly received one of those portraits"

The hushed voices reverberated through the ample stony halls. You stood there, eavesdropping.

A gasp

"Really? Oh my lord! Is he courting someone?!"

"No, not that I know off, but I just caught a glimpse of it. It's... scandalous!"

"By your majesty, don't spare the details!"

"Heard that famous painter did it. Leona Visqué. It's really hard to get a commission from her. This woman must be desperate if she wants Captain Reilly."

The voices just kept fading as they ventured further within the halls.

You'd visit Miss Visqué yourself.

-----

"If I should've known that the future queen of Arachne, I would've fix the place a bit. Apologies for the mess, your majesty."

"Worry not dear. I know that oil. paintings can be quite hard to remove."

Leona stared with a smile.

"May I know what is it you will commission?"

Your cheeks flushed softly.

"I... overheard a small conversation in the palace, and-"

"Oh?" She smirked, "Glad to hear my art is being the talk among nobility"

You chuckled as your fingers fiddled nervously.

"I would like one of... your famous portraits." You mumbled.

"Oh..." Leona couldn't help but beam.

"For the king?" You nodded with a bubbly and antsy feeling in your stomach. Eyes still cast down.

"Well, seems my other comissions can wait. Let's make something he'll never forget."

----

The king had noticed how you'd take small trips to the city, only to return until noon. And no matter how much he asked, Jessica wouldn't tell him.

"I gave my word to not say a word." She'd dismiss him with a little smile. If it wasn't for a mutiny in the jails, he'd send his own spies to see what your sudden secrecy was about.

----

The wait was over. Leona had finally finished your portrait. Your cheeks burned brightly as you admired yourself in the canvas. Even though, she had insisted that it was a gift, you still payed her.

The canvas was tucked in a velvety pouch. And when you made sure he wasn't in his chambers, you put the little gift in his bed. A bed you would one day share.

The thought made you flee with a heated face.

-----

He removed his armor and striped himself into nakedness. The servants already had his bath ready. Hot steamy water to sooth his aching muscles. He was only a king in his mid thirties yet felt like someone of fifty. his stubble seemed more prominent. He'd need to shave again soon.

Once done, he dried himself and walked over his bed. The fire inside his dim lit room, only casted it's reflection on his moist skin. His eyebrows grimaced upon the velvety package awaiting in his bed.

Damp strands fell on his face, nimble hands undid the small knot ontop. Your penmanship impeccable as usual.

For your eyes only

He blinked as the canvas was slowly revealed to him.

His mouth gaped, a soft sharp inhale it did when his eyes marveled at what laid in his hands.

Your naked form, laid down, a hand above your head as the other one rested near your mouth, a subtle invitation.

His eyes unavoidably wandered to your hips and thighs, the smooth curves of your flesh were traced by one of his fingers, silently hoping that one day he'd be lost between them. You were laid in a bed of flowers, your hair slowly melding with them as some were placed strategically on your your upper strands.

Pouty lips he once fantasized in touching, pried open in a delicate yet alluring way. His groin twitched. Soft mounds that were often caged under fancy dresses, were now freed for him to see. No longer having to imagine them. Supple, generous, and perfect for his hands to maneuver.

How could he had been so blind?

Divine. Perfect, and soon to be his.

Oh, the last one. He had been too busy to actually dwell into thoughts of his own wedding. A day that seemed closer than he anticipated. But now, he had a reason to look forward to it. And for him to be your first was both thrilling yet endearing, but of course his dark mind offered a little twist.

He'd have you as many times as he wished.

A satisfied smirk nested in his meaty mouth.

Oh he would.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #💋 anon #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #t writes✨#royal au #king miguel

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 5 months

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[10:04 pm]

(cw: f!reader, side characters are inebriated)

Frat!Jaehyun stared at his phone expectantly. You were late. 28 minutes and some seconds late to the party you had told him just earlier that day that you'd come to. The crowd of party goers was getting thicker, the air was getting hotter, and people were getting more and more unbearable. Even though the party had only started about an hour ago, he could could count on both hands the amount of times he'd already been offered a drink, but he denied them every time. He wanted to be clear and level headed for when you would soon text him that you were at the entrance and wanted to find him.

But another 15 minutes passed and he had still heard nothing from you. His calls went to voicemail, his texts were unanswered, and there was radio silence on your end. He was getting restless, had he done something to annoy you? He didn't think he did, but maybe when you offered him a drink of your coffee earlier he had taken too much. But that wouldn't justify you ignoring him.

He pulled away from the wall in search of familiar faces to ask if anyone had seen you. Taeyong, Mark, Johnny, and Doyoung all answered no. Yuta yelled over the music, "It's crazy packed in here, she'll find you! Want a drink?"

Jaehyun shook his head angrily, "She hasn't answered any of my texts, I'm getting worried."

Taeyong took note of the concerned look on Jaehyun's face and leaned in to tell Jaehyun, "I saw her roommate outside not too long ago, you should ask her."

Jaehyun nodded, quickly making his way outside to catch sight of your roommate. She was clearly tipsy but was able to tell Jaehyun that you were ready for the party when you got a huge headache and decided to stay in. He thanked her profusely before fighting his way through the thick crowd to the front door.

"Bro! Where are you going?" Mark yelled.

"She's sick in her dorm, I'm going to run by a pharmacy and get her some medicine and stuff," Jaehyun answered.

"But you're Social Chair, man. You can't leave!" A drunk Haechan whined.

"I have bigger responsibilities, get him some water before he puts another bathroom out of commission for the night. I'll be back tomorrow," Jaehyun firmly told Mark.

Jaehyun was running quickly to your dorm after he stopped by the pharmacy. He flashed the RA a quick smile and quickly pulled out his student ID. "I'm glad you're here," she told him as she led him to your room, "poor thing, her roommate told me she'd never seen her this poorly."

Jaehyun's nervousness heightened, he gave the RA a quick thanks as he slid into your dorm. He left his shoes at the door and padded to your room quietly. He pushed the door open as gently as he could, only to catch sight of you buried under you blankets and pillows with soft only sniffles heard.

"Baby?" He questioned quietly, making his way to the edge of your bed.

"Jaehyun?" Came your weak response.

"My love, why didn't you tell me you were sick?" He cooed softly.

You whined, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, "you had a party you were so excited about. It hit me so suddenly, I just came to bed. I don't even know where I left my phone."

He shook his head with a sigh, he pulled the pills out from the pharmacy bag and dropped two into one of your hands and a gatorade in the other hand, "take these while I look for it."

He moved around your room quietly, folding the clothes you had no doubt left on the floor in your rush to get to the party, putting away shoes and searching your desk- no phone. He stepped into the bathroom finding it beside an open bottle of eyelash glue and one false eyelash.

Jaehyun placed your phone on your bedside table and slid into bed with you, pulling you into his hold and letting you rest your head on his chest. "You know I care more about you than some stupid party right?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded against his chest, "You were excited about this one, though."

He chuckled softly, running his hand down your back comfortingly, "I was excited because you were excited to surprise me with your outfit, my love."

You nuzzled into his chest, squeezing your arms around his waist, "thank you for taking care of me Jaehyun."

"I'd do anything for you," he stated softly.

You were drifting to sleep, your eyes struggling to stay open, "Can you change next time, so you don't smell like a frat house though?"

He rolled his eyes, you were going to be better in no time.

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun blurb #jaehyun timestamps

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moonchildstyles · 8 months

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rêvasser

élan part two: harry was too observant. y/n worried he could see the cracks in her walls.

wourdcount: 12.8k+

—————

Fran🫧

send me a pic of your nails when ur done!!!!

After answering with an agreeable response, (Y/N) flicked to an email from her stylist. Details were being rehashed over what she wanted to wear to the 132 Gala coming in the next few weeks, Dom again trying to push her in the direction of a darker outfit while she gravitated towards her usual palette of softer hues. Outside the window, glimmering buildings swept by with too many cars on the street and too many people, not paying attention, trying to cross the pavement.

Harry was a silent wall beside her, quiet and stiff. Just like usual. This was the first she'd seen him since the pilates incident. Though he was in a substantially better mood than that last meeting, even giving her a slight smile when she climbed into the SUV beside him, (Y/N) still heard the round of reprimanding he doled out for her.

She'd happily take Harry over her father, though. Now that, for the first time ever, he'd followed through on a threat (i.e. getting a bodyguard for her), there was a level of worry tied to any contact involving her dad. But, he hadn't called at all this week—not even a passive-aggressive text sent her way. When she had texted him that she finally RSVP'd to the upcoming Gala like he'd been hounding her to do just a week prior, he'd left her on read. While she much rather preferred this limited contact, she had a brewing worry that something worse was in the works if he was willing to ignore whatever information Harry had relayed or anything he'd read in the press.

But, she'd take what she could get. Focusing on the Gala with prepping and planning was something she'd happily let take her attention, even if the whole bodyguard/handler/professional babysitter thing was going to be hard to ignore given that Harry would have to accompany her to any and all events surrounding the event.

Though there was one thing her mother did instill in her before she divorced her husband and began jaunting around the world with (Y/N) left at home: Nothing could ruin a good nail appointment. Not even the presence of a bodyguard was an exception to that rule as far as (Y/N) was concerned.

"Thank you, Sully," she chirped, stepping out of the SUV with a wave over her shoulder. Harry predictably followed right after her, the soles of his shoes patting against the concrete. "You don't have to come with me, if you don't want," she told him, stopping him before he could close the door behind and prompt Sully to leave, "It's kind of a long appointment, so if you wanted Sully to take you to get something to eat or whatever, I'm sure he'd be okay with that."

While she couldn't imagine Harry taking her up on the offer, at least not after the clear line he made earlier in the week, she still felt it was something she should give as an option. Nail appointments weren't very exciting if you weren’t the one in the chair.

"No, thank you," Harry answered without a lag, closing the door behind him with a slam. He didn't even look at her as he spoke.

Turning on her heel, (Y/N) took in a deep breath and moved on. Stepping through the front door held a moment of deja vu with the way Harry trailed behind her silently. The women manning the front gave her the same curious looks as the waitstaff at the brunch shop though they all treated her with more familiarity after coming to her regular appointments for almost two years now.

"Hi! Welcome in, (Y/N)!" the same blonde woman that always greeted her said, her eyes floating above her shoulder to find Harry, "How are you?"

The shining smile that earned her a top spot in the rumor mill bloomed on (Y/N)'s lips, "I'm doing perfect, thank you! You?"

"Same as always," she chirped back, the same answer she always gave despite never detailing what the same even entailed. "You're in with Carlotta this morning, right?"

"I am," (Y/N) beamed, stopping at the front podium with her designer purse hanging from the crook of her elbow.

"She'll be right with you," the girl started, pointing in the direction of Carlotta's usual station over her shoulder, "You can take a seat at her station while you wait."

"Got it, thank you," (Y/N) said, voice ever-pleasant and rehearsed.

Taking the first step towards her chair, she saw the way the eyes of the other woman reached around and spotted Harry. He'd been seen at her side enough times to be recognizable to the right people, unfortunately. "Are we checking in for two appointments today or do we just have a friend tagging along?"

"Just a friend," (Y/N) answered quickly. Hopefully the word friend would work through the media circuits just as well as everything else being said.

Taking her seat at her usual station, (Y/N) made herself at home with a cross of her legs and her purse hanging from the hook drilled into the table. Harry pulled a vacant seat to sit beside her, taking the outermost side to leave her bookended by the wall and his body. Protector instincts, she figured.

It wasn't long for him to begin to squirm, a fidget to his fingers.

"Sorry," she whispered to him, pulling her phone from her bag to find the photo she was using for inspiration.

A pinch appeared in Harry's brows. "What do you mean?"

Keeping her voice low, she left her attention on her phone while she spoke, "I know it takes a bit to get used to knowing people are watching you, so..."

It wasn't a surprise to feel others' eyes on her though it had been a while since her presence was notable to the staff here at her nail shop. The addition of a friend at her side was surely something that was garnering her more attention than usual, but Harry clearly wasn't used to it with the way he couldn't settle where he sat. While she was sure there were times that Camila and Monroe, his previous employers, were photographed with eyes on them, she couldn't imagine it was at the same level as she was currently going through.

He'd get used to it. Maybe.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry swept his gaze around the room. "It's a little different, but I can handle it."

She didn't doubt that. She couldn't imagine there was much Harry couldn't handle.

Soon enough, Carlotta came out from the back with a fresh pair of pink gloves on, her usual smile, and big bouncy hair.

"Good morning, honey! How are you?" she asked, brown eyes glimmering in the bright sunlight streaming through the sweeping windows. (Y/N) saw the second she seemed to register the extra guest at her side.

"I'm good, thank you," (Y/N) greeted, stretching her hands out for Carlotta to have a look once she took her seat across. "How are you?"

"Good," Carlotta sang, prying her eyes away from Harry to glance at (Y/N)'s nails, "What are we thinking for this set?"

As much as (Y/N) was sure Carlotta wanted to ask about Harry, and why he was the first extra to ever come with her to an appointment like this, she kept her focus. She listened as (Y/N) went through and showed her the simple inspiration photos she had in mind from grazing through instagram. Glossy nudes with a sparkling French tip was the request at the moment, something easy before the elaborate set she would be getting right before the Gala night.

The appointment went on as normal, Carlotta keeping her conversation to (Y/N) and the rapport they've built over the years. She was sure her tech was waiting for her to bring Harry into the flow, but (Y/N) didn't deviate from the route they'd already embarked on. Besides, Harry was much too involved in his brain and his job to be answering any kind of questions Carlotta may have wanted to ask.

Despite Harry's perfect patrolling and the perfect distraction Carlotta was being, it wasn't long after she had started filing and shaping (Y/N)'s acrylics that there were titters and hushed whispers to be heard across the studio. Harry stiffened beside her, his jaw hardening as he scoped out the sound.

Peeking around him, she saw a group of teenaged girls giggling around a single station as if they were waiting for their own tech to arrive. Two of them had eyes on her while the third was looking at her phone that had the camera conveniently facing towards where she and Harry were sat. The second they realized they were caught, the trio clammed up and looked away, phone disappearing under the lip of the table. Rushed whispers were exchanged between them though none of them dared to return her gaze.

While (Y/N) was used to the treatment, something inside her ticked. It was another set of photos taken without her consent that would build towards another narrative that was anything but true. She was more than accustomed to that, this week had been enough already. More photos of herself was the last thing she wanted.

Nonetheless, there was no way she could react other than with a smile and brushing off the moment. Still, she won't be called "kind" or "warm", she'll be called stiff. At least it wasn't "bitch", though.

When the girls caught her smiling, they gave her a small wave before erupting into more giggles in their corner of the studio. Harry barely held back his scoff as he watched the scene.

Carlotta had gone quiet the second (Y/N)'s attention had shifted. They both saw as Harry shot a stiff look towards the girls, even when they were too caught up in themselves and whatever was going on in their phones to notice.

"Sorry," (Y/N) whispered, leaning towards Harry. She was hyper aware of Carlotta's quiet presence, but she couldn't forgo addressing the moment with the way Harry was reacting. "They'll be over it soon, it's okay."

Harry only shook his head.

She wished she knew what was going on in his head. She wanted to know what he thought of that moment, what he collected from the way she reacted, or how much he was beginning to regret taking this job now that so many eyes scrutinized him.

"Do you like this, or were you thinking a little bit sharper on the edges?"

Carlotta's question pulled (Y/N)'s attention back to her nails, right where it needed to be.

—————

"I'll be right back," Harry murmured, standing from his spot as he scoped out the bathroom.

(Y/N) sent him off with a quiet okay, her attention placed on the sweeps of the small brush going across her nails.

"So," Carlotta nonchalantly mused, her gaze stuck on her work, "you know I don't believe everything I read, but I have to ask... Is that the guy?" Guiding (Y/N)'s hands under the lamp, Carlotta flicked her gaze up to look at her client through the fan of her dark lashes.

With her back stiffening and lips thinning, (Y/N) didn't know what to say. Despite the conspiratorial smile on Carlotta's face, (Y/N) didn't feel like she was in on the joke. Her nail tech was one of the closest people to her in a funny way (nail appointments sometimes felt like therapy after a long week, and too many times had (Y/N) shown up hungover beyond repair), so it cracked at her shell just a bit to know that random stories could wriggle into the mind of someone who actually knew her.

Shaking her head, (Y/N) gave her a mild smile. "It's not like that." She paused before offering up the rest of the story. "He's my new security actually."

"Like a bodyguard?" Carlotta bubbled, taken aback as she paused in her line work of the French tip she was making. She seemed to mull over the possibility before nodding her head some. "I guess the stories have gotten a little out of hand, recently."

"Yeah," (Y/N) offered lamely, "He'll at least make it sound a little bit more intimidating when I need photographers to get out of my way when I'm trying to get to my car."

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) suddenly found it hard to speak about it all. Other than Francesca, most people didn't want to hear about how "hard" her life was; it was a joke, as if there was no way she could have anything negative happening. While in many ways that was true—she had a home, income that she never had to worry about, and the kind of time to indulge in herself that she knew many others didn't—but that didn't negate the fact that there were unique challenges in her life that wore on her. She hated to think about Carlotta listening to this and talking to her coworkers later about her spoiled client.

Lighthearted as always, Carlotta's features lit up with a smile as she guided her hand in for the final round of drying. "I'm sure he will with those shoulders."

Just in time, Harry returned with the conversation quieting then. Only a round or so more of drying with her hands under the lamp was needed before Carlotta was doing her ending spiel of how best to take care of the acrylics despite the fact (Y/N) was a longtime client with some of the best retention she'd ever seen (at least that's what Carlotta told her).

"I love them!" she bubbled to her tech, standing up from her spot with her hands spread out to catch the clean lines of the French and crisp edges in the shaping. "Thank you so much."

"Of course," Carlotta said, rounding her station to offer (Y/N) a loose hug, "I'll see you soon for your Gala nails, right?"

"Right—hopefully, I'll have an idea ready then." A round of pleasant, albeit a bit forced laughter sounded between them.

Goodbyes were shared before Carlotta went about cleaning up her station and (Y/N) and Harry were silently heading up to pay for the service. Only, (Y/N) was stopped with a rushed call of her name, the voice high-pitched and jittery.

Stopping where she stood, Harry beside her ready to step in at a moment's notice, she turned to see that trio of girls, their own nails glimmering with paint and artificial length. They all looked at her with hopeful eyes and flushed cheeks. They were young—as young as (Y/N) was when she started traipsing around town by herself. She hoped they were being careful and looking out for one another.

"Yes?" she pleasantly chirped, lashes fluttering in a quick blink.

One of them dared to shuffle forward in her Prada sandals, sparkling iPhone clutched in her hand. "Can we get a picture with you?"

Without a second thought, (Y/N) answered with an "Of course! What are your guys' names?"

High on her attention, they flushed and giggled, hands shaking as they took turns to introduce themselves. The one with the phone in her hand—Izzy—was the ringleader it seemed, the most fearless of the trio though she seems just as incredulous to the fact (Y/N) was actually speaking to them.

"You're, like, my favorite person on Instagram, bestie," Izzy chattered off, too-white smile beaming, "My parents hate that I follow you, but I don't care—I think your outfits are cute, and I can't wait until I'm old enough to dress like that without them telling me no."

While the girls laughed and giggled, getting into position for the photo, (Y/N) tried to play along with a bubbling smile. It was more than uncomfortable to hear that these girls' families hated her, as well as hear about how much they couldn't wait to wear the same ensembles as she. At least, they were being nice.

Honestly, (Y/N) hadn't even thought that the outfits she posed in were something that should be reprimanded. She dressed in a way that made her feel pretty. She hadn't thought that the summer dresses she'd favored these last three months would be a subject of debate in households she didn't even know existed.

Suddenly the off-the-shoulder bodysuit and pair of high waisted jeans she was wearing weren't enough. She wished she had pulled on a sweater despite the heat outside.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) just laughed along, playing the part long enough to keep them happy before retreating for the day. Taking the offered phone, she turned towards Harry with it stretched out towards him.

"Will you take a picture of us, Harry?" she asked, acknowledging him for the first time since he grew stiff when the girls had initially spotted them.

"Sure," he answered gruffly, his gaze on her intense as usual though there was more curiosity than scrutiny this time around.

The girls posed around her, arms around her waist and beaming smiles directed at the camera. Harry tapped the screen a couple of times while the girls giggled at her sides. The breakaway was seamless afterwards, Harry passing back the borrowed phone and (Y/N) slipping away from where she was swaddled between them.

"It was so nice to meet you guys," she beamed, "But, we really need to head out. I'm sorry!"

"Totally fine, thank you," Izzy spoke for them, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "Maybe we'll see you at our next appointment."

"Maybe," (Y/N) laughed just before offering a wave as a final goodbye.

Her smile stayed stiff on her cheeks as they walked away, though the girls must not have gauged their volume very well with the way she could hear them clearly over the growing distance.

"That's her new boyfriend, Sydney! The one that she left Damien before, remember? He's the one in those pics from the other day," Izzy chattered off, much too loud to be appropriate in a place that would be considered a spa. And, because the subject of her gossip was within hearing range.

It was an interesting thing to be a few teenaged girls' favorite villain. Even with the way they seemed to like her, they still would believe that she'd lie and cheat and fight like that.

Harry was a solid, silent pillar beside her. He was a brick wall following wherever she went, only giving out a curl of his lips when he was acknowledged and he knew it was polite to do so. He stayed quiet up until he was escorting her through the plaza to meet up with Sully.

"Do y'ever get used to that?" he asked, voice just a hair louder than the click of her heels over the bricks under her feet.

"Hm?" she sounded, paying a little too much extra attention to the photo she was trying to take of her nails to send to Francesca.

"Having people watch you all the time and take photos of you. Do you ever get used to that?" he detailed, casting his eyes around to where Sully could be waiting along the curb.

Shrugging, (Y/N) tossed her phone into her purse. "I mean, kind of? It's been happening since I was in high school, but it's definitely been a little different lately just with... everything being posted about me and all." A beat passed once Harry spotted their car, the route changing as she followed after him. "I think I get it on the easier side, though, compared to others. At least people aren't attacking me or anything, right?"

Harry's lips thinned at her words, jaw tight. "Right."

Definitely the wrong thing to have said.

Replaying her words with Harry's icy reaction, (Y/N) wanted to cringe. Why did she even say that? Of course he wouldn't think that was funny or even lighthearted when his entire job was to keep her out of harm's way.

For a split second, she wanted to tell him about the letters and the photos she received. She wanted him to know that she knew that facet of her existence was serious—that she took his job seriously. But, that topic was more than off limits—something that would no doubt end in a phone call from her father and a one-way ticket to a Swedish cabin with no internet or link to the outside world for a minimum of six months.

(Y/N) followed Harry to the SUV, silent as ever as there was no way to really recover from her slip. He held the door for her to slide inside before he came in next to her.

Sully, the perfect breath of fresh air, twisted in his seat when they filed in. A broad smile could be seen under his moustache. "Let me see," he told (Y/N) offering a hand out for her.

Happy to show off her nails, she gave her hand to him. "They're a different shape than normal, but I thought they would look nice with the French tip."

"They're amazing," he smiled at her, the same response he always gave her when coming back from a nail appointment. "My daughter is going to want some just like that when she sees them on her phone."

Settling back into her seat, (Y/N) smiled. "Let me know, and I can set up an appointment for her and everything. She'll just need to take care of them."

"I'll tell her you said that," he told her before twisting back to face forward in his seat, "Anywhere else for the day?"

From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry observing the moment. Just like usual.

She could go and start some prep for her Gala night outfit, take a look at Vivienne Westwood and Dior, but the idea of Harry being her only companion after her misplaced joke wasn't something she had much interest in. She, at least, needed Francesca for something like that.

"Just home today, Sully. Thank you."

Sitting in the back of the SUV, bench seat shared with Harry, (Y/N) felt exposed. She just hoped she was making the right moves under those watchful eyes.

—————

Heaving a sigh, (Y/N) listened to Francesca with her phone pressed to her ear, her gaze cast across the New York skyline.

"I'm sorry," Fran pouted through the line, (Y/N) practically able to hear the flutter of her lash extensions through the receiver. "If I had known, I wouldn't have promised I could make it."

"It's okay, it's not your fault," (Y/N) soothed, chewing her bottom lip, "I can move my fittings to later in the afternoon, maybe? Would that work?"

"You know how my mom gets when she comes into the city," Francesca sighed, sounding exhausted before the day had even started, "Her and her husband are back on that thing about me being a gallery owner, so you know they're planning on taking all day to make me realize how much of a dream it is for me—I just don't know it yet."

(Y/N) couldn't help the itty, bitty smile that touched the corner of her lips. How silly the two of them were; Francesca's worst problem is her mother wanting to gift a gallery to her, while (Y/N) squirmed at the thought of having a personal security guard follow her to keep her safe.

Nonetheless, she did feel her heart deflate a bit knowing that her best friend wouldn't be accompanying her to something they both loved doing. As a bonus, Francesca would have also been acting like a buffer between she and Harry. Now she was going to be left with him sitting and brooding in the corner with his criticizing gaze while she twisted and turned in a multitude of mirrors.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," Francesca said again.

"It's okay, don't worry, okay?" (Y/N) repeated, hearing the sounds of the city from her free ear as the morning rush began and wouldn't stop until late at night. "Tell them I said hi, and I'll send you pictures of my favorites. Maybe we can still do our alterations together if everything matches up?"

"Yes, definitely! I'll see you tomorrow night and we can talk about it more then."

"See you tomorrow," (Y/N) settled, sinking into her lounger, "Love you."

"Love you, too, bestie!"

With that, (Y/N) pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call. Out on her balcony, the morning chill touched at the bare slashes of skin revealed by the open, crochet knit of her cardigan. Despite growing up with a fear of heights, sitting up in the balcony of her high-rise apartment, it was easy for (Y/N) to luxuriate in the thin air and clear out her brain for even a moment.

She was going to get through today. Even if she is photographed today, if she receives an intrusive letter, if another story is spun dragging her name through the rain and mud, she was going to make it through. Besides, she loved going to Fifth Ave; the fashion houses were her second home in the city. She couldn't back out on them now, not when her stylist pulled rank and ensured she would have a private fitting at Vivienne Westwood and a tour across an archive of Dior jewelry just for her.

(Y/N) was just going to have to trust the opinion of sales people who worked on commission and were too scared to look her in the eye half the time. To be fair, they hadn't steered her wrong just yet, even if they never really looked at the way the garments fit her, just because that would require a longer than a single second glance at her.

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) reminded herself: she was going to get through today.

A buzz in her hand alerted her, taking her from the skyline and back to her phone.

Sully👑

I'm here and ready whenever you are.

At least she would get to see Sully this morning. It was always a good day when he was there to ground her.

Trekking through the building, (Y/N) gave her usual smile to the uninterested doormen and avoided eye contact with the man who was tapping away aimlessly on his phone, another person waiting to be buzzed up, she was sure.

Peering through the glass doors, she saw the SUV on the curb, Sully having made his way to sit just outside the entrance. He was stationed outside the car, his hand poised on the door handle to help her in. Even with the deep tint on the windows, she was sure Harry was waiting inside. A silhouette with too nice of a profile to be wasted on a security detail.

Sully's features softened into a grin when he saw her step outside of her building, his usual all black attire just as immaculately pressed as always. "Good morning, Ms. (Y/N)," he greeted, hand on the door to pull it open for her.

"Morning, Sully," (Y/N) reciprocated, the long form of her cardigan fluttering behind her.

Just as she suspected, Harry was waiting patiently on the bench seat of the SUV when Sully pulled the door open. He didn't look up as she slipped inside, crossing her legs once the seatbelt was secured across her form.

"Good morning, Harry," she murmured in the quiet of the leather interior.

Glancing up at her from where he had been tapping away on his phone, Harry took her in in a brief sweep over her form. He brought his knuckle up to his nose, brushing underneath the tip. "Good morning."

The sound of Sully's door slamming shut brought (Y/N)'s attention forward from where she was stuck on the flickering green of Harry's eyes. "Now to Ms. Francesca's apartment?"

"No, actually," (Y/N) clarified, shifting in her seat, "Franny's mom is coming into the city today so she had to cancel."

"Oh no," Sully genuinely pouted at her through the rearview mirror, eyes meeting hers, "I'm sorry, (Y/N). Straight to Fifth Ave, then?"

"Yes, that's perfect," (Y/N) chirped, feeling Harry's gaze on her through the interaction, never once did the shift to Sully. "Vivienne first, please. Dior after."

"Got it."

Pulling away from the curb, Sully was the expert driver he always was, slipping them seamlessly into the traffic without so much as a jostle over the pavement. Cars were slow moving at this time in the morning, but she knew he would make quick work of the distance.

"Jus' us today?" Harry piped up, his voice a low gravel that had (Y/N) pulling her gaze on her nails to land on him.

Swallowing, she nodded. "Yeah. If you don't want to sit through all the dress stuff, though, I'm sure Sully can take you elsewhere while I'm busy. I can just let you know when I'm ready to move to the next spot."

No hesitation before he spoke again: "No, thank you. I'll be staying with you."

She didn't expect any other answer if she was being honest, but it was the polite thing to ask.

With no room to argue, (Y/N) fell silent, leaving just the sound of distant car honks and the light radio melodies playing. The route to the Vivienne Westwood location on Fifth Ave was a familiar one, even with the traffic and swerving drivers it didn't seem so long from where (Y/N) sat. She gazed out the tinted windows, the world looking just a little bit blue. People in too high of heels to be walking on the crumbling sidewalks with brand name shopping bags tucked under their arms were blurs beside her as Sully toured them through the city,

The car slowed when the storefront came into view, the elegant font of Vivienne's name bold over the crystal windows.

Sully sent them off after helping (Y/N) onto the concrete, promising to return as soon as he received word that she was ready to move on. Harry was her silent shadow as she stepped over the sidewalk like a runway. The mannequins in the windows were corseted and perfect, standing on thick platforms with sparkling jewelry. An effortless smile stretched across her lips as she pushed the door open, the brassy golden handle warm under her palm from the New York heat.

Her heels were muffled as she stepped over the eccentric carpet. (Y/N) swore she could breathe just a bit easier in here. Many of the shops along this Avenue were the closest thing to being at home, especially when she was growing up and itching to do anything but be at home with her parents. She had an abundance of nice memories tied to these stores and brands; summers spent with Francesca and a credit card, impromptu fashion shows with pieces that wouldn't go together on a runway. While there were more than a couple of workers that became annoyed with them after only a few minutes of the duo walking into the shops, these places were the easiest escape.

Sweeping her gaze across the shop, she took in the elaborately dressed mannequins and clean shelving. Everything was lit up on display, highlighting the contrasting colors and the punk-inspired pieces that gave Ms. Westwood her name. Racks and displays were scattered throughout, leading the walkways like a twirling river of black and white streaks. (Y/N) gravitated towards the racks with the signature structured corsets of the Westwood brand, draping fabrics and glimmering pearls.

The entire space was quiet, her stylist—Dom—having made his calls and ensured the space would be free of any other shoppers while (Y/N) was getting her fitting done. (He was a little paranoid when it came to others leaking looks and style choices when it came to events like this Gala. It had happened once a few years earlier with a different client, and he seemed to have never forgotten). That left the entire morning free for (Y/N) to try on all of the imported pieces they had picked from the archives and Harry to brood around her like a temperamental potted plant.

It didn't take long for a familiar head of coiffed blonde hair to appear around the corner of a jewelry case. A too-white, too-straight, too-perfect smile was plastered across his face—the kind of smile (Y/N) was halfway sure was fake, but that was just commission-based customer service.

"Will!" (Y/N) greeted with a matching smile, breaking the ice as she turned on her heel to face him fully.

"(Y/N)! How are you, my love?" Will bubbled, posh accent wrapping around her name. He was adorned in his usual all black suit, velvet accents lined throughout. The length of the flared pants made him look that much taller, long limbs strong. The classic Vivienne Westwood pendant had been refashioned into a broach he pinned to his lapel, chains falling from around the Saturn that glimmered like the gunmetal manicure on his fingers. Something shimmery rained over his eyelids, just punk enough to fit Vivienne but high class enough to please those that guarded Fifth Ave like a dragon's treasure.

When Will approached her, hands delicately held out with his lips puckered, she didn't hesitate to turn her cheek and indulge in the air kisses he always made a fuss about. Though it made her cringe, like one of those girls she knew in private school that spent the summer abroad and suddenly started speaking in an accent and bringing up their travels at any given moment, she enthusiastically partook in the greeting.

Best behavior was required in shops like this, the associates tending to be some of the worst gossips and best storytellings in the city. If she was anything but perfect, with the way the media was already latched onto her, it wouldn't take much convincing for someone like Will to sell a story to any publication.

"I'm doing so well now! I was hoping I'd be paired with you for my appointment."

He waved her off with an incredulous face. "Well, of course they'd pick me. They only give you the best, hunny!"

A round of laughter erupted between them, something that sounded just as fake as it felt in her throat. Harry was notably quiet, watching everything unfold. He didn't bother to try and step in to introduce himself, observing as always.

"Come, come," Will gestured, inching towards the grand fitting room plotted in the back of the shop, "All of these gorgeous archive pieces made it in last night, just for you! I shouldn't be surprised, you and Dom have such wonderful taste, but I just love to see it, really."

Will chattered to her as he escorted them through, bubbling about how excited he was to show her the garments as well as see them on her. While she knew a portion of his personality was a customer service front, he was one of her favorites here. He was more positive than uppity, unlike most of the other sales people she'd run into during her time perusing this street.

Making it to the large fitting room in the back, (Y/N) immediately spotted the white garment bags hanging from the single stall. It was a large room that could have easily fit in stall after stall, but instead was used as a luxury space for only a single patron. Plush carpeting was installed under their feet, black lightning bolts breaking up the creamy white. A shimmering chandelier hung above the circular dais situated in front of the three-sectioned mirror on the far end of the room, crystals dripping from the wrought iron branches almost low enough to graze the head of the person standing on the dais. Cozy chairs were pushed throughout, the space anticipating guests, along with the tray of champagne glasses and a chilled bottle awaiting serving.

Finding a pause in the chattering, (Y/N) asked, "Are any of the girls helping today, or is it just us?"

"Just us!" Will chirped, carefully uncorking the bottle of frosty champagne, "Dom made it especially clear that he didn't want anyone unnecessary to be here; he said he wanted to make sure no one could leak anything."

"Sounds like Dom," (Y/N) sighed with an affectionate smile, dropping her purse onto one of the houndstooth printed armchairs.

Harry found his own chair silently, sinking into the cushioning though he didn't seem to relax much at all. His gaze stayed alert, looking around the entire space—probably looking for any cracks as if a supervillain could swing through the drywall and take her captive. Or, anything (Y/N) could damage should she finally snap in his presence.

She wondered what he thought, not three weeks into the job without a single tantrum that she knew her father had prepared him for. Hopefully she was showing she wasn't as much of a problem as her father was convinced.

Shrugging out of her cardigan, (Y/N) caught the way Will eyed Harry. He swept his gaze over, analyzing the same way Harry analyzed everything else.

"But, I see you brought a friend," he tittered, looking at her with that sly gaze. Harry didn't even flinch at the first acknowledgment of his presence.

Keeping her demeanor perky and bright, (Y/N) made a point to look confident—but not too proud. She didn't want to look like she was showing off a significant other, so she couldn't smile too much, but she still had to smile just enough not to look shy or smitten. She didn't want to give Will any reason to describe her as being "bashful, over the moon for her new man".

"Yes, that's Harry," she gestured to him, Harry barely offered a small smile when he took a second to look in their direction, "He's my bodyguard"

"Bodyguard?" Will asked, blonde brow raised in an arch.

Sighing, (Y/N) politely took the offered glass of bubbling champagne from Will's hand. "You know how it goes sometimes," she started, sipping delicately from the flute for a chance to pause, "Photographers have been a little crazy lately, so I figured I might need a little extra help."

"Oh I'm sure," Will bubbled, looking at her with a furrowed brow feigning concern, "With everything that's happened with Damien, I bet those paparazzi can't get enough of you."

He eyed her the same way he eyed Harry, as if there were details he could glean from her with just a glance. He was hoping she would spill, give him something to whisper over.

Shrugging it off as nonchalantly as possible, she took another careful sip of her champagne. "Anything for a photo, you know," she said, rolling her eyes as if being hounded for personal information and photos of intimate moments was nothing more than an inconvenience. "But!" she perked up, popping her hip with a spark to her voice, "I want to see what Dom picked out for us!"

Hooked by her excitement, Will caught the giddy way she talked and reacted with his own enthusiasm. "Okay, okay, sit down and close your eyes," he instructed, waving her back into her spot, "Because, you are going to freak."

Doing as asked, (Y/N) settled into her seat with her eyes fluttering closed. She could hear Will padding away, leaving her with just Harry though if she hadn't already known he was there, she would have assumed the complete silence meant she was alone. She couldn't imagine being so quiet all the time, alert and scrutinizing. She wished she knew what was going on in his brain.

The zip of garment bags and rustling of fabric drew closer as the time ticked on another minute. With the way her heart peaked, her giddiness was no longer an act. This is the stuff that made these events worth it for her; she loved playing dress up as a girl, and this was just the same but even prettier, in her mind. She could pretend to be a real princess this way.

"Okay"—a pause for dramatic effect—"open," Will said, a smile clear in his voice.

Blinking her eyes open, (Y/N) saw the flash of pearl pink laid hanging in front of her. Will held the padded hanger up for her to take in the entire gown, his free arm behind the skirt to help put it on display under the light. The fabric looked like liquid pearl, tinted in a pastel, cool pink that glimmered with a golden sheen in the light. It shifted before her eyes, showing shades of silver and purple, metallic and pearl. A blend of everything pretty in the world, (Y/N) decided. The top was the signature corset that she loved from the Westwood designs, the neckline featuring a deep scoop to show off her chest, structured and tight. The skirt was a length that would drag behind (Y/N) as she walked, draping down from the corset with a thigh high slit up the side. The sleeves to hold it up were nothing but a three-tiered string of pearls, each loop bigger than the last to rest lower and lower on her arms when she put it on.

While there was a small collection of garment bags hanging up behind Will, (Y/N) couldn't imagine looking at another gown after this. It was too beautiful—the perfect personification of her thoughts that she had jumbled together to Dom during a late night FaceTime. She couldn't have ever imagined her scattered thoughts coming together enough for him to know exactly what dress from the Westwood archive to request for her.

But, this was exactly it.

She almost felt as though she needed to wait, to make sure it didn't just melt off of the hanger and drip onto the floor. She wanted to ensure it was real before she became too excited.

"Dom picked a couple from the archive and a few from the most recent runway, but this is my favorite," Will told her, his tone conspiratorial like he was sharing a secret just for her, "I think it would look gorgeous with your coloring, too. And, I know you're a pearl girl, so."

Standing from her seat, she abandoned her glass of champagne on the side table. She was sure her eyes were too wide on her face, taking in all of the gown as if it would disappear if she blinked too long.

"Are you kidding?!" she bubbled, "I love this! I almost don't want to see the others, I love this so much."

Will shook his head immediately. "No, no, no, we're playing Barbie today, you're still trying on the others. But, I'm happy we're on the same page with this one."

In a split second, (Y/N) saw something flourish in Will's eyes. The corner of his lips quirked up, too sly of a curl to be innocent. He turned towards Harry, showing off the dress just as grandly as he did for her.

"What do you think, Harry? This would look gorgeous on her, don't you think?"

Harry, the master of nonchalance and being chronically unbothered, barely batted an eye when Will caught his attention. If not for the fact (Y/N) knew who he was and what his job entailed, she would have thought he was one of those people from Williamsburg, where it was cool to be uncaring. Fortunately, she knew he genuinely couldn't care less about what was going on in this fitting room as long as (Y/N) wasn't being assaulted or causing property damage.

His eyes fell over the gown, sweeping over the details in that scrutinizing way he always looked at his surroundings. "It looks nice, yeah. I don't know much about this kind of stuff, but 'm sure it would look nice on her."

A beat passed. Will waited for more, waited for his digging expedition to come up with results. Harry only blinked.

"Okay, well!" Will moved on, smile a touch stiff. He turned towards (Y/N) with those same bright eyes. "Let's get you all tied up into this, and then we'll see for sure."

(Y/N) eagerly allowed Will to usher her through the door to the changing stall, eyes flitting to the dress as soon as she could spot it in the mirror. He didn't waste a second before he started chattering to her about some drama that apparently happened when the garments were dropped off the night before, trivial things that were embellished for the sake of getting her to laugh. (Y/N) wanted to say she listened intently, enjoying the way he prattled on and told the story as if it were a myth, but she honestly couldn't spread her attention between him and the dress that was beginning to swath around her body.

Her day clothes were dropped to the floor at her feet, leaving her in undergarments before Will helped her into the dress, the corset stiff with the boning straightening out her spine. The beginnings of the look came together before her eyes, the fabric forming around her body the tighter the corset was zipped. The skirt seemed to be dripping off of her body the way it moved under the light, molten and sticky. With the slit opening up as high as her hip, the pearl glimmer stood out against her skin. Will helped her push the straps of her bra down, sliding them into the sides of the corset to make it look that much more real.

Times like these were the only moments (Y/N) felt as if she could be photographed—wanted to be spotted. She loved dressing up, she loved feeling pretty in her skin, she loved these kinds of special moments. It never got old to her, feeling the glide of silky fabrics on her skin, the glimmer against her skin tone, looking like the princesses she used to idolize when she was a kid.

Twisting and twirling in the mirror, (Y/N) could feel the smile curling on her lips.

"Well, what did I tell you?!" Will beamed, standing back in the mirror to meet her eyes in the glass, "Better than the runway, my love!"

"You're so sweet," she told him, a pout on her lips as she matched his eyes in the mirror, "Thank you."

"Let's go look in the big mirror, see it from all the angles," Will prompted, reaching his hand out to help her step off the circular, raised platform in the dressing room.

(Y/N) followed him through the door, letting him take her to the three panel mirror at the head of the room. He held the skirt for her as she stepped onto the platform, her feet chilled through her socks once she was steady. He fanned the gown around her, the split showing off the stretch of her bare thigh. She stood tall with her posture corrected with the corset, but the confident tip of her chin had everything to do with the way she felt in the dress.

Running her hands over the fabric, she followed the ripples in the pearl with her eyes. Seeing herself like this, she didn't care what her dad had to say about her, the tabloids, or the rumors. She liked what she saw in the mirror, and that was enough.

"Do a spin, look at the back," Will instructed, hands clasped together with his own smile beaming on his features. When (Y/N) did as much, showing off the deep dip in the back that showcased the planes of her back and the seamless lines of the corset, his smile only widened. "Classic Vivienne," he murmured, impressed as if it were his own work, "What are you thinking for your hair?"

Using her hands to loosely emulate the idea she currently had in her head, (Y/N) craned her neck as she looked in the mirror. "I'm not sure yet, but I think Dom had something vintage in mind. Big and drape-y to show off the dress, but I haven't talked to my hair stylist yet."

"Jewelry?" Will asked, circling around her as if appraising a diamond.

(Y/N) launched into a description of what she and her stylist were thinking, imagining the Dior pieces glimmering against her skin and the way her hair would tickle her collarbone when she turned her head. She could already see the set of pearly nails that were going to be on her fingers, the tiny bag that she was planning on hanging from her elbow the whole night. Her bare feet shifted to be sheathed in the perfect pair of Manolo's she knew Dom was going to insist she wear to go along with the gown.

Everything came together with each twist and turn of her body in the mirror, pearls and crystals sparkling in her mind.

Will chatted away to her, telling her something about how the skirt could be altered to lower the slit (something she was not interested in doing, honestly) and how glimmering crystals could be added here and there. She offered him a bubbly smile in the mirror, nodding along, though she might have been a little too absorbed with the way she felt in the gown to be paying any real attention.

In the mirror, with a twist to show off the back once more, (Y/N) caught sight of Harry. Just as usual, he looked at her with those ever-observant eyes. Even from the distance he was sitting away in the long room, she knew he was watching everything.

This time, though, he sat with his elbows crossed over his knees, leaning forward as if he couldn't see enough. A furrow of his brow shaded his eyes. Though he tended to keep his eyes latched to her anyway, he looked earnest this time; like there was more he was trying to find before him.

(Y/N) swallowed. He hadn't even realized she was looking at him, she didn't think, at least with the way he didn't shy away when she found him staring. Or, he just didn't care.

Maybe, she could argue, he found Will as a possible threat being so close and so touchy with her. That was his job anyway, see those kinds of possibilities where she normally wouldn't. And, he took his job seriously.

"I know we've pretty much picked already, but let's take a picture and try on the others," Will propositioned, pulling her out of her head, "We'll send them to Dom and see what he thinks, right?"

With a flutter of her lashes and her gaze disengaging with Harry's form, she straightened her falling smile. "Right! My phone's over there, if you want to take the pictures really quick!"

With her phone in hand, Will began snapping photos of her, (Y/N) posing and smiling with every angle on display for her stylist to analyze later. The moment erupted into giggles as the posing became more ridiculous, Will fueling her with the ways he angled her phone and goaded her to get more and more wild.

All the while, (Y/N) could feel Harry's eyes on her.

She found she didn't mind having his eyes on her.

—————

In front of him, (Y/N) twirled and twisted while her friend took photos of her. Harry watched the whole time, cataloguing the way the dress formed around her body, the silk sliding over her skin and glimmering under the light.

Harry's chest felt tight. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

She looked gorgeous.

In the front of his mind, he knew well that he would do better to be paying attention to their surroundings, watching her friend's hands, anything that actually pertained to his job.

But, he didn't. Instead, he watched his client. Even when she caught him.

—————

"Yes, sir, we're on the way."

Harry's voice was gruff and low as he spoke on the phone, (Y/N) listening in from where she sat next to him in the SUV. She played with the slowly dulling edges of her nails, pretending as if she had no idea as to what her dad was saying and asking on the phone to Harry.

She pretended not to catch the way he glanced at her from the corner of her eye, his gaze sweeping over her form before he was facing forward once more. "Yes, sir—she's dressed appropriately."

(Y/N) had to tune it out then. She didn't care to hear more of the checklist Harry had to go through in order to approve her walking out of the house. She felt more than exposed; under a microscope with everyone awaiting her downfall.

Not soon enough, it seemed the end of the phone call was finally nearing. Harry shifted in his seat as he spoke, giving a time estimate to their arrival before a mild "See you soon." left his lips and the call ended.

Biting back a sigh, (Y/N) sunk into her own seat that much more.

Of course, her father would call Harry over his actual daughter. She couldn't be trusted to give honest answers, obviously. Some days she felt disappointed over the way he acted with her, other days saddened for the little girl inside of her that ached for her parent's love, but days like this brought anger to the surface. She couldn't fathom how important he must think he was to believe he could speak to and about her the way he did.

Though the thought of looking at—let alone speaking to—him today was making her more than annoyed, she was already on her way to the country club and she couldn't back out now. At least she could eat as much as she wanted and buy just as many drinks all on her father's card.

He was going to be way too enthralled with his stupid country club friends—and Harry—to even acknowledge her, anyway. Whenever she was invited to see him on the green, she was meant to be nothing more than a pretty accessory, to show that he was a family man too, not just a ruthless businessman. She was there to be gazed upon by men way too old and way too married to be looking at her the way they did, but that was part of the reason she was called upon.

By the time the structure of the gated country club came into view, (Y/N) was already reading through the familiar menu in her head. She was going to buy the entire patio a round of drinks, she decided. Maybe even two rounds.

Going through the gates, Sully pulled them to the front of the building. The golf course stretched for miles around the main building, perfectly green and manicured, gorgeously maintained attractions throughout the holes with fountains and elaborate sand traps. The perfect kind of course for people with too much money and not enough actual understanding of the game. Around the back were the tennis courts and pool, everything warm blues with mosaic tiles, waitstaff crawling all over the place to tend to every whim of the clientele.

The bistro was her father's favorite part, though. That was where the whiskey was served.

He only pretended to care about golf just so he could laze around the club and smoke cigars in the afternoon and drink whiskey with people too stupid to realize he only saw them as dollar signs.

She could only hope he'd already had a chance to drink this morning with his friends, leaving him too sloppy to care if she snuck off to play some tennis or out to the koi pond in the garden. Maybe, Harry would even become too distracted with her father, too wrapped up in the schmoozing and drinks and promises, to follow her out. Maybe she could get a real chance to be alone this afternoon.

Sully helped (Y/N) out of the car as Harry waited for her on the walkway, the grand building behind him full of warm woods and golden fixtures. Large glass windows almost filling the complete space of the walls showcased the inside of the villa, the view only obstructed from the amount of greenery planted outside, tall bushy trees and manicured hedges acting as shades.

Keeping her tennis skirt from riding up her thighs, she used Sully's hand to steady her as she stepped onto the stone walkway.

"Thank you," she told him, voice quiet compared to the nature-esque sounds that came from the club and the various activities others were partaking in.

Sully nodded at her, gentle smile on his cheeks. "I'll be back soon. Do you want me to wait for your father's cue or yours?"

"Mine," she answered immediately. If it were up to her father, she'd spend the entire evening here with no end in sight. It would probably turn into some unwanted date with a random man he thought would be good for her.

Sully's smile was understanding as he nodded to her. "I'll be here as soon as you need me."

With that, she shared her goodbyes with her driver before joining Harry at his silent post a few feet ahead of her. He barely glanced at her before he started leading her into the club, opening the door for her to step ahead. He once again took the helm as he led her through the country club, (Y/N) standing back in favor of lagging behind. He might not know the club as well as she, but he at least knew where her father was expecting to meet them. This way, he would be the first person they saw, as well; that could buy her a couple extra seconds of being off before slipping into her role.

Walking into the Bistro, (Y/N) was greeted with the familiar smile of the waitstaff that knew her well. They didn't stop them as she gave a small wave, already assuming she was there to meet her father at the most boisterous table in the restaurant.

It was easy to spot him in the otherwise polite eatery, other patrons quietly dining with fresh tans or aching sunburns from the time outside. Sidelong glances were sent in the way of her father's table, some envious, others annoyed. She could deeply relate to those who were fed up with his noise. He was always much more bothersome after a few drinks.

Men gathered around him, clustered around his small table. (Y/N) recognized most of them. Some of them elicited a stiffening in her spine, her guard going up the much further in case their eyes wandered too close to her, others she knew as investors he most likely originally meant to meet here, and some she didn't know at all. It was still easy to suss them out, anyway; it was the giddy smiles on their faces and the way they barely drank, that showed they were people who had been fighting to be invited to the table and were way too excited to be in such a close orbit to her father and his friends. Gullible, the only way to describe them.

Twisting her Cartier bracelet around her wrist, (Y/N) tipped her chin with faux-confidence and plastered her tabloid-famous smile the second they stepped into the dining area. Harry was still in the lead, glancing at her over his shoulder once he also spotted their intended table.

Her smile didn't waver, ensuring he didn't catch any kind of reaction that could be relayed to her father.

The second her father turned to face them, stopping his conversation short, she knew the whiskey in his hand was not the first of the day. His eyes were glazed and warm, less scrutinizing but still nowhere near kind.

He lit up when he registered Harry's presence. "There he is!" her father shouted across the restaurant, a waiter's steps faltering at the outburst.

Stepping just out from behind Harry, (Y/N) noticed the way her father's gaze didn't deter from her bodyguard; a man he had met for the first time only a few weeks prior. In some ways, she was relieved to be ignored—it was easier this way, she knew—but other parts of herself were sore from the sting of being nothing worth noting to her dad.

Harry gave a small wave, still a touch too far away to give his own greeting back. At least he was being courteous of the other diners.

"This is the Harry I was telling you all about," her father continued, much too loud for the space though no one corrected him, "He's my daughter's handler."

Noises of recognition rattled around the table, some pretending, others giving knowing smiles. (Y/N) didn't dare to think about the stories he shared about her and Harry. He would no doubt be painted as a shining knight, clean and unwavering in control, while she would be left to be the troll of the story, the one being needing to be controlled.

Once they were near enough, those surrounding the table stood to introduce themselves to Harry, offering hands to shake and exchanging pleasantries. Harry took it in stride, his deep voice sticking out from the too-excited greetings of the others.

(Y/N) stood quietly behind. She could feel a pair of eyes or two falling upon her, but she was largely ignored in favor of Harry.

It's better this way, she reminded herself. None of these men's attention was worth it.

Feeling more like decor than a person, (Y/N) stood and watched as Harry was roped into the conversation, even taking a seat her father pulled up. All the while, her father sang Harry's praises, a hand clasped over his shoulder. Harry was just so smart, and qualified, level-headed and strong. (Y/N) had been so much better-behaved even—she might even be ready to be a wife instead of running around the city with her friends. Who knew it was a babysitter his wild child needed to finally calm down; another man to tell her what to do.

That comment made her smile dip. She hoped no one noticed.

The table erupted into laughter at his comment, jovially agreeing as if she wasn't standing right there. Harry was the only one to look at her from over his shoulder, a smile notably missing from his lips. He matched her eyes for a lingering moment before he dropped his gaze.

"Right," he said once he rejoined the conversation, the word missing the same enthusiasm the rest of the table held.

She stood for a moment longer, listening in as she fiddled with her bracelet, before she started inching away. "I'm going to go," she mumbled, noting the way no one seemed to look in her direction but Harry, "Probably get food or something."

(Y/N) turned on her heel then, half expecting Harry to follow, though she was sure the bigger priority was to stay with her father than continue babysitting her. She could feel the eyes of other patrons on her as she left the table, but she didn't stop to reconsider before she was slipping out through the backdoor.

The patio was bathed in bright sunlight, country club members lounging in the warmth with cocktails in hand while waitstaff meandered through the wrought iron tables. She didn't pay anyone any mind as she made her way through, giving smiles to those she made eye contact with before glancing away in favor of making as small of an impression as possible. Though it was generally frowned upon by the club to exploit its high profile members with covert photos or posting any details about the dealings within, that didn't mean it didn't happen. She knew more than a few times stories of her time at the club had been leaked to the press along with blurry photos, and she definitely didn't want that to happen again today with the way her father was shouting her business across the entire dining room inside.

Stepping off the stone patio, she made her way towards the gardens. A short hedge "maze" made most of the garden, leading her through with flowers littered around the space, small fountains, and a koi pond glittering in the center. Other than the tennis courts, this was her favorite space at the club.

The scent of the vibrant flowers beckoned to her, drawing her into the mini maze. A small smile took over her features, reaching out to caress the soft petals of the blooming roses. Fluffy bumble bees flittered between the blossoms, their tiny bodies covered in pollen as they went to each plant. A soft buzz filled the air as she walked, her careful footsteps over the plush grass adding to the delicate noise. It was easy to block out the rest of the commotion like this; the thumps from the tennis court, splashes from the pools, and the chatter from the patio all melted away. Trickling from the tiny waterfall fountains led her closer and closer to the center.

Zagging through the maze, she felt the sun warming her shoulders around the straps of her tank top. That same warmth seeped through to her bloodstream, floating her to the clouds just a little bit.

This was the first time she'd been out without Harry at her side. She'd almost forgotten what that felt like.

To be fair, she was beginning to get used to the feeling of having an extra shadow following her everywhere she went. That unsettling edge she had tied to having a security detail had begun to dull, finally. She didn't completely mind knowing that someone had eyes on her at all times, whether he was checking for her safety or for her bad behavior to peak. It wasn't something she would consider a normal feeling yet, but she could get there.

Hopefully, though, she wouldn't have enough time to get used to him. Hopefully, he'd be relieved of his post before she got that far.

With the lack of stories being printed about her, she even hoped that her father would grant her freedom sooner rather than later. The only things she saw about herself tended to be things about her summer outfits, or analyses of her instagram posts. Nothing major had been posted since Damien. She had to be on the right track if rumors about her were losing traction.

Falling back down to earth, (Y/N) grounded herself as she gazed down into the koi pond. The concrete barrier was carved with roses, the reliefs matching the actual blooms coming through in the hedges. The fish were graceful pops of color in the clear water, bright calico coral tones shining under the sun. Lilly pads with tiny flowers floated on the surface, allowing the kois to move like ghosts underneath. This was her favorite spot in the gardens, making it easy for her to sink to her knees with her hands perched on the lip of the barrier and gaze down at the creatures.

That childlike urge in her to reach out and pet the fish rose, wishing she could treat them like pets. (Y/N) almost wanted to laugh at herself with the way she had to remind herself to keep her hands to herself.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps sounded through the maze. They were close enough (Y/N) could hear the quick pace, the purpose someone would have to have to breeze through the leisurely maze like that.

For a split second, her muscles tensed, her lungs squeezed. Her first thought made her want to run.

The letters.

Whoever wrote them didn't want to hide anymore. They waited until she was alone like this. They could do and say anything they wanted here. No one would even know with the cover of the hedges.

Her heart raced in her chest when they grew close enough (Y/N) swore she could hear the sound of the grass crushing under the intruder's feet. Her breath caught in her throat.

She whipped her head around just in time to see someone breaking into the clearing.

It was Harry.

He had a scowl on his face, shoulders tensed, and eyes hard. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her sitting there in the grass, legs folded underneath her.

(Y/N)'s hand fluttered up to her throat, a sharp exhale leaving her lungs. It was just Harry, he reminded herself.

"Jeez, you scared me so bad just now," she breathed, sinking from how hard she had been tensed in wait.

"Sorry," he said, lips thin as he shifted his gaze to the koi pond behind her.

Though he looked just as closed off as he usually did, his demeanor matching his dark clothing, there was a bit more of an edge to his aura. If she didn't know any better, (Y/N) would think he was angry.

He heard her say she would be out back, she knew that. He couldn't be angry at her when he didn't follow her out of his own volition. Right?

A slight pinch knitted her brows together as she looked up at him. "Are... Is everything okay?"

Not shifting his gaze from where he had landed them on the blooms of roses in the maze, he gave her a curt nod. "Yes."

"Okay," she said, unsure of what else to offer in the quiet of the maze. Awkwardly, she rose to her feet, brushing nonexistent dirt from her tennis whites.

A beat passed before (Y/N) turned to face him once more, finding his gaze already on her. "You can keep walking if you want. I didn't mean to interrupt you," he said, his voice low as if to match the buzz of the bees.

"Are you sure?" she asked, still catching the storm in his eyes even if it had settled some.

Only a single nod was given in response.

With that, (Y/N) was the one to lead him through the maze. Harry was a welcome ghost behind her, silently following. He didn't complain with every lingering step between the blooms, didn't bother her as she felt the softened rose petals, didn't push her through in annoyance of the bees flying around their heads.

The second half of the maze seemed to relax him from the way she saw his shoulders relax, his gaze softening the longer they spent away from everyone else. She almost wanted to take him back to the beginning when they finally finished, the end of the maze opening up to a stone walkway that split with two avenues. One took them back to the bistro's patio, the other to the golf courses.

"Are you hungry?"

After the quiet that followed them through the maze, Harry's voice was a shock.

"Yeah, actually." (Y/N) answered after a beat.

"C'mon," Harry said, gesturing for her to follow after him as he started down the pathway rounding back to the restaurant.

The patio was just as bustling as when she had slipped through earlier, the expansive windows allowing her to peek inside and find her father still holding court. Pushing through the small gate that separated the space, the waitstaff turned to look at them from the pinched creak the iron hinge gave.

A familiar woman smiled from where she stood at the extra hosting podium stationed outside. "(Y/N)," she brightly greeted her, "Are you dining with us after all today?"

A short glance was spared in Harry's direction before (Y/N) was nodding. "Yes, please. Thank you."

The familiar hostess quickly seated them, menus and glasses of water left on the table. The waitress would be only a moment away, they were told. The service was always on the quick side whenever (Y/N) was here; they knew good and well who her father was, and the club loved a generous member.

Harry was quiet as they were waited on, looking over the menu as if it were a textbook to study. He didn't even look up when the fair-haired waitress made her way to their table. She introduced herself as Carly, though (Y/N) already knew her well enough from the last handful of times she had been dragged here by her dad.

"Before we start, were you wanting to open up a separate tab today, Ms. (Y/N), or put today's meal on your father's?" she asked, her smile bubbly as she relayed the same question they always posed.

"On her father's."

Flicking her gaze from the waitress, she saw Harry still looking at his menu as if he hadn't just spoken. That storm had returned to his gaze, a pinch appearing between his brows.

Carly was silent, looking between the two of them.

"On my dad's tab, please," (Y/N) confirmed, offering a soft smile before the silence had time to settle for too long.

"Perfect," Carly answered, writing down whatever message needed on the pad in her hand, "I'll give you guys a moment with the menu and come back and take your order. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," (Y/N) answered for them both, perfect smile on her lips until their waitress stepped away.

Silence settled between the two of them, Harry still focussed on his menu. Though it was a bit bold for Harry to assume they were going to be dining on her father's dime, she couldn't deny it was a little funny. That was her own plan after all, she just hadn't anticipated his vehement agreement.

Soon enough, their waitress returned. "Had enough time?" she posed, reaching to her apron pocket for her notepad.

Glancing at Harry, she saw the small nod he gave. "I think so," (Y/N) answered, already familiar with the menu enough to not have to glance through.

"Great," Carly chirped, pulling her notepad out, "Any drinks? Starters?"

Before she had a chance to order her raspberry lemonade, Harry piped up, "A whiskey on the rocks, please. And, the coconut mango cocktail."

There was a beat that passed as Carly wrote everything down. (Y/N) looked at him with raised brows. That was not at all what she had expected; wasn't he still on the clock?

For the first time, he glanced at her over his menu, something loaded in his eyes as he tipped his chin towards the leaflet with all the drink specials printed.

"And, for you?" Carly asked, facing (Y/N).

"Um," she fumbled, "Can I get a glass of Chardonnay please? And the raspberry lemonade."

(Y/N) didn't plan on drinking her wine, but felt as if she needed to match Harry in the ordering process at least.

"Alright, I will get all of that going for you, and I'll be back to take your lunch orders." With that, their waitress left, her notepad snapped shut and her gaze just a touch wary between them.

(Y/N) couldn't blame her.

A moment passed before (Y/N) dropped her menu to lay flat on the table. Harry looked up at her through his lashes.

"Are you really going to drink all of that?" Honestly, she wondered what a drunk Harry would look like.

"No," he deadpanned, "But your father is still going to pay for it whether I drink them or not."

The smile that tugged on the corner of (Y/N)'s lips was something that she couldn't help. It was out of character for the person she thought Harry to be—a loyal follower of her dad—, but definitely something she would have (and has) done herself.

"Right," she answered, gaze shifting to the menu in search of the most expensive items she could spot.

Maybe, Harry was closer to being on the same page as her than she thought.

—————

"Thank you, Carly," (Y/N) said as she signed the check, quickly passing it back to their server.

"Of course," Carly beamed. Her smile only widened when she saw the three digit tip on the line for her. "Thank you, Ms. (Y/N)."

(Y/N) didn't linger then, knowing Sully was up front waiting for them to be taken home. "Ready?" she asked Harry as she stood from her chair.

"Ready," he answered, much more relaxed than at the beginning of their meal.

Ignoring her father, (Y/N) left the bistro behind. He probably didn't even remember inviting her out for the day. It didn't matter, though, she thought.

He'd remember the three extra appetizers and handful of drinks left untouched on their table.

—————

rêvasser is to daydream in french.

I know it's a little light on harry at the start of this story but more exciting stuff is coming!!!!! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas or anything please let me know !

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roosterforme · 4 months

Text

Adult Education Part 16 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Every sleepover with Jessica leaves Jake wanting more of her. More time making love, more time reading, more time cooking for her. But when a brilliant scheme is dropped on her lap, Jessica is about to have a little less time to spend with her boyfriend.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, mention cheating, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake was absolutely certain he'd never been happier than he was at this moment. Jessica was sitting on the kitchen stool next to him, moaning softly in her dishevelled clothing as she ate the chicken pot pie he made for her. His fingers were loosely tangled with hers, and she kept leaning closer to kiss him after she took a few bites.

He knew she'd been having a bit of a rough week, so it was important to him that she was relaxed now, especially since he'd been part of the reason the past few days had been tiresome. He hadn't meant to jump her like a horny teenager as soon as she got to his place, but it seemed like neither of them could do much to stop themselves. When he told her he could barely go a day without seeing her, he wasn't joking. At this point, Jessica was a necessity.

"Why don't you take a long shower when you're done eating while I clean up?" he whispered as she took her last bite.

She nodded and climbed from her own stool onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him before sliding to the floor. "I'll be back."

Her hair was a mess, and she still looked freshly fucked as Jake watched her walk away to his bedroom. When he heard her turn on his shower, he stood and started to clean up the kitchen. There was a lot of food leftover, but he also bought a lot of groceries in case she wanted something else. Part of him was planning on coaxing her to spend some time cooking with him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself.

But they had time. Jake could take his time this weekend, just like he was going to take his time telling Jessica that he loved her. He didn't want to spook her again with this information, but telling her that a day apart was almost too much for him to handle was the beginning of his admission. It was the honest truth. Even now, just knowing she was in his bathroom had him heading in that direction.

He tapped on the door and poked his head into the steam filled room. "Mind if I join you?"

Jessica spun away from the spray of the shower and slid open the glass door, reaching out toward him with her wet fingers. Jake wrenched his shirt over his head and practically tore his sweatpants off to get to her as quickly as he could.

"Why would I mind this?" she asked, raking her fingers through his chest hair as her temple came to rest on his shoulder. When he touched her arm, he could feel goosebumps even though the hot steam was dense; her reaction to him was always welcome, too. "Honestly, this is the best I have felt all week. Brian's taking a leave of absence, and I get to spend time with you."

Jake froze with his hands halfway up her back. "Brian is taking a leave of absence?"

"Mmhmm."

"Is that... a good thing?"

Jessica kind of shrugged and then nodded. "I think so. I got an email from the dean asking me to cover one of his classes on Wednesday afternoons."

He considered her words. "Baby, that's amazing. They trust you to take on more work."

"Yeah," she said, crinkling up her nose, "but I still don't have tenure. And with Brian out, I can't even schedule a tenure review with him now that alumni weekend is over."

"Why didn't you tell me all of this as soon as you got here?"

She looked up at his face like he was one of her students who was failing a class. "Because, Jake, I got distracted by you. Obviously. Now why don't you tell me about your week?"

And once again, she amazed him by actually showing interest in what he had to say. Not only that, she called him smart when he talked about his jet's fuel ignition system. And after they got out of the shower, she asked him to read a journal to her. As Jessica was falling asleep, curled up with him on the couch, Jake took her glasses off so they wouldn't get smashed against her face.

"I love this, Reedy," he whispered, kissing her forehead and making her smile.

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

"Please tell me you know how to crack an egg," Jake groaned, standing behind Jessica in his kitchen the following day. He had his arms wrapped around her as they made waffle batter together, flour all over the counter and both of them.

She glanced up at him over her shoulder. "Do I look like I went to culinary school to you?"

"Baby," he laughed, reaching for the broken mess of egg shell next to the bowl and swiping it into the sink. "This isn't fine dining. It's a waffle."

"It's fine dining when you make it," she replied, and she was rewarded with Jake's lips on her neck. He hadn't shaved his face, and the scratch along her skin was completely addicting. His fingers dipped inside the neck of his shirt that she was wearing, and he kissed his way to her bare shoulder. "Can we go back to bed?" she whispered, rubbing herself back against him.

All she got was a smack on her butt and Jake's lips back up next to her ear. "No. I'm determined to teach you how to cook something." Jessica whined as he handed her an egg and cracked it with her, dumping it in the bowl of flour before tossing the shell. "See? Easy. Now do one yourself."

She picked up another egg, carefully cracked it, and then half the shell ended up in the bowl. "Oops."

"No, you did great," Jake told her as he fished the shell out of the batter. "I love crunchy waffles."

She groaned and tossed her head back as he laughed. "You're one of those people who is good at everything. You're really annoying, and nobody likes you."

"I know," he agreed, even though she was turning back to smile up at him. "I'm the worst. Now pick up the spoon and mix everything together."

She did as she was told, but frowned at the bowl. "Is it supposed to look so soupy?"

"Add more flour," he whispered as he kissed her ear. A chill went down her spine as his lips remained where they were, and Jake took her hand in his to scoop some more flour. "That's good. Keep mixing."

After another minute, she was shaking her head. "How is this supposed to turn into a waffle?"

"Magic."

And it kind of was magical, the way he made it look so easy. The batter was soon sizzling in the waffle iron, and Jake had her pinned against the counter with his hands up underneath her shirt. He was rubbing soft circles along her waist with his thumbs, and Jessica was enjoying the sight of him in nothing but his tented underwear.

"Five minutes until the waffle is done," Jake crooned as one hand slipped down the front of her lacy, pink underwear. "Think that's enough time?"

"For what?" she gasped when his thumb found her clit.

"Get my girl off," he muttered, kneeling in front of her and kissing her through the lace before pulling her underwear down to her mid thighs.

The thing was, Jessica was certain he could do it in five minutes or less, because he'd done it before. Just not with his mouth. But as soon as his lips met her clit and she could feel his stubble all over her pussy, she was leaning back against the counter and whining for him.

"Spread 'em wider, Baby," he whispered, kissing her thigh as she eased her legs a little further apart. "That's it. So pretty," he moaned before she felt his tongue glide from her opening up to her clit where he latched on and started sucking. The elastic of her underwear was digging into her thighs a little bit as he eased two thick fingers inside her.

The waffle smelled delicious, and Jake's mouth felt like heaven on her clit. But it was his fingers, thrusting so rapidly and so deep that had her practically shrieking. The muscles in his shoulder and bicep were taut as he finger fucked her sweet spot, but his face was calm and adoring as he looked up at her. As if he wasn't about to get her off in four minutes. As if he wasn't doing the Lord's work in his own kitchen with the waffle iron and with her pussy.

Jessica was pressed up on her tiptoes, shaking on the spot, subconsciously trying to get away from him while also pressing herself against his face. "Oh my god," she cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop, her hips rolling against his face of their own accord. She had lost control of herself as she came, gushing against his lips as her hips jerked.

She watched him lick his lips as he stroked her clit with his thumb through her orgasm, bringing her to the brink of overstimulation before the timer on the iron went off. Jake hopped to his feet with ease, pressing a wet kiss to her lips before opening up the appliance and said, "Oh good. The waffle is done just like you are."

With a halfhearted glare, she pulled her underwear back up and watched him slice some strawberries for the topping. Two minutes later, she was sitting on the couch while he fed her bites of waffle, berries, and powdered sugar. "This is so good," she gasped. The waffle was crisp and golden brown on the outside, but it melted on her tongue.

"You made it," he reminded her. "All I really did was cut up some fruit. Later, we can make dinner together, and I'll pack up little containers for you to take for your lunches."

Jessica threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking the plate out of his hand. "Thank you."

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

After spending Sunday playing dress up with Jake, Jessica finally headed home. But not until after she got to see him in his white uniform. And not until after he used his credit card to buy her three hundred dollars of new lingerie. "Next weekend should be even more fun," he crooned as he purchased all of it.

Now it was late, and she was unloading her lunch containers into her refrigerator after texting him that she got home safely. His response came in the form of one sentence that made her belly swoop.

Just remember, I can barely go a day without seeing you.

Had they progressed to mid week sleepovers? She thought maybe they had. And when she drove to work on Monday morning, she was contemplating asking him if he wanted to come over that night. She wasn't even thinking about work or Brian or any of it, because she was in such a pleasant haze from the weekend.

When she plopped down at her desk with her lukewarm coffee, she put her container of homemade lasagna that she had helped cook in her mini fridge. She turned on her computer and mused that there probably wouldn't be a department meeting with no Brian Conley at work, and she smiled. She was still smiling as she finished her coffee and ate a granola bar while she looked through the offerings on a boutique website, searching for the perfect birthday gift for Jake.

"Oh!" she gasped when she found what she was looking for. She wiled away her time before she had to give a lecture by picking out a pretty green frame to go with the art print. She could already picture it hanging on the wall outside his bedroom door. Just when she was entering her shipping information and credit card number, a loud knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she said, her heart starting to race as she purchased the gift, but she calmed down right away when she saw who it was. "Advanced Calculus. How was your weekend?"

But the other woman was looking up and down the hallway suspiciously before she pulled the door closed and rushed toward Jessica's desk. "We don't have time to chat," she said in a loud, harsh whisper as she planted her palms on the desk.

"We don't?" Jessica asked softly, meeting her wide eyed gaze.

"No, we do not. Listen carefully, because we need to act quickly."

"Is something wrong?" Jessica asked, but her friend just shook her head and hit the desk with her palm a few times.

"No! Now listen! Bradley had to drop me off a little early this morning, so I was in the math supply closet minding my own business when I saw Dr. Rosenthal walk by. And I said good morning. And then he said, 'It's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate,' just like he always does. Hmmm.... now I understand why Bradley likes it when I hang out with a very harmless old man at work...."

Jessica was gesturing for her to get to the point.

"Oh, yes, right! So, good old Walter Rosenthal stood there and looked at me like he had some hot gossip to share, which is wild, because I think he's at least seventy five, and he never talks about anyone. But I could tell. So, we stood there in the supply closet doorway, and he just unloaded about Brian."

"What did he say?" Jessica gasped.

"That Brian is taking a leave of absence! Apparently his wife walked in on him and a TA. But since she's not his TA, the university doesn't even care." Jessica was about to tell her that she already knew all of this information, but she kept her mouth shut as she continued. "But the real kick in the ass is that Brian is suddenly taking time off to work on his marriage! His wife is making him!"

"Really?" Jessica asked, leaning closer.

"Yes! And I didn't even get to the good part yet!" She was hitting the desk again as she jumped around. "You can thank me later for solving all your problems."

"I can?" Jessica asked, wishing she'd get on with it.

"Mmhmm. You see, Dr. Rosenthal just so happens to hold not just one, but two PhDs."

"He does?"

"He does! Mathematics and physics. Physics, Jessica! And he's going to be filling in as the interim head for the science department while Brian is off. And Dr. Rosenthal told me that he will be off for the rest of the month!"

"The rest of the month...." Jessica's gaze shifted away from her face when she realized it was only the second day of the month. Then she gasped. "The rest of the month!"

"Yes! And how long does it take to complete a tenure review?"

Jessica's heart was pounding so hard, she thought she was going to be sick, whether from nerves or excitement, she wasn't exactly sure. "Three to four weeks."

"Three to four weeks!" She was back to pounding on Jessica's desk as she whispered as loudly as anyone possibly could. "You need to get Rosenthal to review your tenure. And you need to get him to start it today."

"I can't ask him to do that," Jessica whispered as her heart sank. "It's so much work, and he's just an interim department head. And since he has tenure, they probably aren't even offering to pay him more for taking over."

"You can ask him, and you will! This is your chance. Anyone with half a brain can see how hard you work around here and how much your students appreciate you."

Jessica chewed on her lip and looked down at her lap. This was the kind of opening she'd spent the past year blindly hoping for. "I suppose he's got all the right credentials: he has a PhD in a scientific field, he's tenured, and he has more than ten years of teaching experience."

"Let's go," her friend said, still pounding on the desk. "Right now. Come on."

With a nod, Jessica was on her feet and reaching for her discarded suit coat. There really was no time to waste if she wanted this to get anywhere. But her hands were shaking on her way to the elevator, and she had a hard time pushing the button. "I'm nervous," she muttered, feeling like an idiot as she buttoned her jacket and ran her hands over the fabric.

"There's no reason to be. I promise," her friend replied. "Rosenthal is very reasonable. I'll introduce you, and then you can chat and see what he has to say. The worst he can tell you is no."

Jessica had already subconsciously gotten her hopes up that this whole thing might work out, and when she reached his office over in the math building, she was starting to feel faint. He had to say yes. He absolutely had to. If he did, she would take back every mean thing she ever said about all of the old guys at this college.

"Come in," called out a voice, and Jessica hadn't even realized that her friend already knocked on the door. Dr. Rosenthal looked a little stern at first in his reading glasses, but as soon as he saw who it was, he said, "It's a little early for lunch and curriculum talk, isn't it?"

"Dr. Rosenthal, have you met Dr. Reed? From the Physics department?"

He immediately stood and stuck out his hand, and Jessica felt a little bad shaking it with her clammy one. "Good morning, Dr. Rosenthal. It's nice to meet you."

"Yes, yes. But it's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate."

Jessica smiled, because apparently that was his go-to line. "A calculus joke? I like that. A good use of integration. But I prefer the physics version that claims a donut is fundamentally the same as a coffee mug."

"You know the topologist joke!"

"I'm pretty sure they don't let you have your physics PhD unless you do," she said with a tiny smile.

"Well, what can I do for the two of you?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "I need to meet with Dean Walters in thirty minutes, so I don't have very much time."

"I just informed Dr. Reed that you'll be taking over things in the science department for a few weeks while Dr. Conley is... unavailable."

Jessica had to swallow three times until her mouth felt wet enough to form actual words again. "And as a result, I hate to take up any more of your time, but my tenure review with Dr. Conley has been continually delayed. I was actually planning on talking to him about it again this morning, but that's when I heard he isn't even on campus right now." She was shaking slightly again; she never was any good at telling a lie, even a little white one.

"I'm not surprised," Rosenthal replied before pursing his lips in disgust. "Seems like he was busy doing other things, I suppose. Getting his work done was perhaps the last thing on his mind." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You still need to be reviewed again?"

Jessica shook her head. "I need to be reviewed for the first time, actually."

His brow furrowed. "How long have you been at the school?"

"Almost two years."

His eyebrows shot up. "Two years? And Dr. Conley never gave you a tenure review?" She started to shake her head, embarrassed all over again that she had managed to derail her own career by sleeping with him. Luckily Rosenthal saved her from having to speak just then. "Of course. Of course. It should have already been taken care of," he mumbled, shuffling papers around on his desk. "Just let me find my calendar."

The two women watched as he pulled out an enormous, old fashioned schedule keeper and a pen. Jessica's heart was beating so erratically now, she was afraid of what she would say if she opened her mouth. "I'm really rather booked up now, as I'm sure you can understand," he murmured. "But perhaps we can sit down together on Wednesday at lunchtime? I'll need a copy of your schedule to start with, and a copy of your students and their grades."

"I can have that to you this morning," she blurted out.

He smiled as he wrote in his calendar. "Ah, yes. I always did appreciate a professor who keeps up with their grades. The only other thing we will need is another tenured staff member with a PhD who won't mind writing a secondary report and signing off on my findings."

"I'll do it."

Jessica turned to look at her friend as tears welled in her eyes. It was one thing to ask Dr. Rosenthal to give up hours and days of his spare time to sit in on her lectures and critique everything and write a massive report, but this was something else entirely. It would eat up all of her spare time.

"No, I can't ask you to do that, Advanced Calculus," Jessica whispered as her vision blurred behind her glasses.

"Okay, well you didn't ask. I offered," she replied with a completely neutral expression.

Rosenthal looked between the two of them before saying, "That's settled then. Just get your schedule and your grade book to me later today, and expect to see me sitting in on your classes."

"Thank you," Jessica practically gasped, reaching to shake his hand again before she turned toward the other woman who was holding the door open for her. Once they were alone in the quiet hallway, her lips started shaking with unshed tears. "You didn't have to do that."

She just shrugged. "I'll have to be one hundred percent honest in what I write about, but I don't think that will be an issue. And... I don't think you fully appreciate how much I hate Brian Conley. Or how much I like you and want you to succeed." Jessica hiccupped as she tried not to cry while her friend started to walk away. "I have a Calculus lecture calling my name, but I'll talk to you later."

Jessica walked through the long corridor to the elevator and cried the entire way back to her office, but she felt better than she had in a very long time.

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

Jake was eating lunch while Bradshaw talked his ear off about getting his Bronco detailed. If he wasn't actively putting food into his mouth, he would have fallen asleep. "That's fascinating," he murmured.

"Right? I have one of the only 1973 models in pristine condition in the state. The whole state."

Jake tuned him out when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and relief washed over him when he saw it was a text from Jessica. Finally, something interesting.

Any chance you want to meet me at Chippy's for a drink later? And many have a sleepover at my place?

He almost dropped his phone as he texted back as quickly as he could. A Sam Adams after work with his hot girlfriend? Absolutely. A sleepover during the week? Color him committed.

When he showed up at Chippy's at 6:30 just like she had suggested, the place was packed, but there was no sign of her. So he made his way up to the bar where Chippy just blinked at him as he wiped up a nonexistent spill with his towel.

"Hi," Jake greeted.

"She's not here," he replied.

Jake nodded slowly. "She's meeting me soon. Can I get two pints, please?"

Chippy tossed the towel aside and grabbed two glasses, setting them down a little hard in front of Jake once they were full. Then he slid a dish of peanuts next to them while Jake took out his wallet.

"Perfect," he drawled, handing Chippy a ten with a smile. "You have a nice night." He grabbed an empty hightop with two stools and settled in, nursing his beer and cracking a few peanuts open.

He smiled as he thought about the first time Jessica invited him to her little dive bar paradise. She'd been so excited to talk to him about her lecture and her journals. He'd probably fallen a little bit in love with her that night, if he was being honest. The longer he sat alone and waited, he was reminded of the night she thought he stood her up. If that five mile run had taken him any longer, he doubted he would be here today.

It was like he could sense her before he saw her, and Jake was out of his seat as Jessica wove around the tables gracefully in her high heels to get to him. "Jake!" she gasped, pushing her glasses up her nose with the backs of her fingers before flinging her arms around his neck.

"Hey, Smart Girl," he whispered, kissing her while Chippy kept a close eye on things. "Did you have a good day?"

She squealed before chasing his lips for another kiss. Just when things were on the verge of becoming a little too hot for their current setting, she released him with a big smile. "You'll never believe what happened!"

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

I love Sugar. She's bestie material. She's everything. Let's make this happen! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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sopebubbles · 8 months

Text

Master List

Fourteen

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: Your second heat with the pack begins, and Yoongi, Jimin and Hoseok promise to make it better than any before.

Warnings: talks of past trauma, nightmares, SMUT (I honestly didn't think this was gonna happen), penetrative sex (female and male), use of sex toys, unprotected sex, LOTS of kissing and touching, lots of pet names.

WC: 14k

"Mmm, you're in preheat," Yoongi said against your neck. He could smell you getting sweeter and sweeter. He'd noticed it a couple of hours ago, but let you keep sleeping. His heart dropped when he felt you tense up beneath him, knowing you were going into distress, souring just a little. "It will be alright, princess. We're here to help." He did his best to soothe you, but when you remained still, he pulled you back against him, away from Jimin.

"Jimin, go get Hobi," he instructed, and the beta got up without asking any questions. Yoongi rolled you over so he could see your face even though you wouldn't look at him. He smoothed your hair back as he spoke softly. "We should have done this sooner, but we're going to talk with Hobi and make a plan. Everything will be alright."

He began to feel a little panic when you didn't respond, and he wondered if maybe you didn't trust him completely yet. Maybe you were still afraid of him a little. Maybe you feared that he wasn't going to keep the promises he had made you on the day you finally became his. His heart broke a little, although he could never blame you. But he didn't know what he would do if you kicked him out to go through your heat alone. He couldn't let that happen. He'd lose his mind.

"I don't understand why she's so broken up about it," Jimin heard Namjoon say as he walked down the stairs. "If I were her I'd be thrilled the bastard is dead."

"Because she's a good girl who doesn't want to be a murderer," Hoseok replied. "I'm sure she'd be happy if she didn't feel responsible. I wish she could see that she isn't."

All heads turned toward Jimin as he entered the kitchen where they all sat, drinking tea, or in Jungkook and Namjoon's case, beer.

"How is she doing?" Tae asked urgently.

"She feels like shit. But we have a different problem. Hobi, Yoongi wants you upstairs."

Hobi stood up and set his mug heavily on the table. "What's wrong?"

Jimin frowned. "She's in pre-heat," he replied before turning to go back up the stairs.

"Taehyung, I need you to go to the grocery store to stock up. Take Namjoon with you," Hobi said before following Jimin.

"But-"

"No buts," he said curtly and disappeared.

"I'll go, if you don't want to," Jin told Namjoon softly.

"Or the two of you can go and I'll stay here," Taehyung offered, not at all wanting to leave the house while you were becoming more vulnerable by the second.

Namjoon sighed. "If the two of us go we won't come back with any of the things we actually need. And Hobi probably needs you here, Jin. It's fine. I'll go."

Jimin knocked on the door before opening it, startling both you and Yoongi. When you saw Hobi behind him, you both sat up to be able to talk to them properly. He sat on the edge of the bed and touched his hand to your forehead.

"You're hot as hell, but you smell like heaven. How are you feeling, pup?" He asked, but you merely shrugged.

"Hobi, Y/N told me a while ago that she doesn't like dealing with her heats. She said they hurt. I know we should have worked it out earlier, but I was hoping you could help us come up with a plan or something. You're the expert and I…"

Yoongi didn't need to finish his sentence for Hoseok to know just how lost he felt. It was clear in his eyes, though he was trying to hide it. He looked from your alpha to you and smiled. "Heats aren't bad if you manage them right, pup. We'll get through it fine. Can you tell me what you normally do for your heats?"

You shook your head and pulled your knees toward your chest. "Nothing. I haven't been having them for a couple years. I don't know."

"Well, what was your best heat like?"

You looked at him blankly. "My best heat was the one I had last time. With you."

His heart ached. That couldn't be true. The struggle he'd watched you go through couldn't have been the best of an experience that Hoseok often found actually quite enjoyable.

He swallowed, steeling himself to dig into what he guessed was going to be a lot of trauma. "Sweetheart, can you tell me about your first heat?"

You broke eye contact with him, lowering your gaze to your knees where the old jeans you were still wearing were worn thin, ready to rip apart. You shook your head.

Yoongi rubbed a hand down your spine, still tense, and begged. "Please, princess. I know it might hurt, but we can't make it better until we know what's wrong."

You breathed in deep and pushed it out. Your voice cracked when it first came out. "I was sixteen when I had my first. I didn't know what was happening at first. No one had ever told me what it would be like, and I was so old, I thought at that point I was a beta, like Eli." The words caught around the lump in your throat, but you swallowed it down. "When my m-mother found me. Sh-she she dragged me from the nest I made." You hadn't realized you'd begun to cry until Jimin took one of your balled-up fists in his hand to relax it. "She and my father took me out to the back of the farm and left me outside the property in the woods. It was the last time I saw them."

Hoseok wanted to tear them apart with his teeth, but it wasn't about them right now. He wiped your cheeks. "That must have been very scary. You were so brave. What did you do?"

You sniffed. "I was pretty out of it. I stayed in the woods until it was over because I didn't want s-someone else to find me," you hiccuped. "There were other animals out there and–"

"Y/N," Hoseok interrupted you. His voice was so firm you had to instantly look him in the eyes. "You are not an animal. No matter what they told you, you're a person. Got it?" He watched your eyes glass over before you nodded. "Sorry, pup. I didn't mean to sound so angry. I'm not…I'm not mad at you." You lowered your eyes again, and he couldn't help but feel bad and wonder if he was helping at all. "I'm sorry. Go on."

You cleared your throat. "After it was over, I hitchhiked to the nearest city, an hour or so away. I was on the streets for about six months, so like two heats bc they were farther apart then. You can imagine how that went."

Hoseok did his very best not to imagine it. Jimin's grip on your hand tightened as he recalled the night they found you, what they stopped and what he feared could have happened. He never thought you might have already lived the worst things he could think of. Yoongi on your other side was deadly silent.

"Anyway, then I met Sebastian and Roxy, and I think Yoongi told you about what that was like already." You looked at Yoongi for the first time since you'd started telling your story, but he didn't look at your face. When you looked back at Hoseok, he nodded. "When I went to jail, they made me take heat suppressants and since then I've pretty much stayed on them. It's been…better."

Hobi swallowed down the bile rising in his throat as he tried to look for something to say. Before he could think of anything, Jimin spoke.

"Y/N-ie, can I hold you?" He asked softly.

You looked at him in surprise. "Y-you want to hold me?"

He nodded. "I think it will make you–no, I don't know if it will actually make you feel better, but if it's alright with you, I'd like to try. I think it would make me worry less," he admitted. "It's okay if you don't want to. I won't force–"

You stopped him by moving closer, between his legs. "It always makes me feel better. And I don't want you to worry."

For a brief moment, Yoongi forgot his anger and concern as he watched Jimin wrap his arms around your waist and you leaned your head on his shoulder. He almost smiled. Then he looked at Hoseok, who had finally composed himself.

"Pup," he started softly, pulling your attention away from Jimin's collar to look up at him, but you didn't move an inch. You looked tiny in Jimin's arms, and something about it made his heart swell. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sad you had to go through all of that alone. I promise that for the rest of your life, anyone who tries to hurt you like that will answer to me personally." His eyes slid briefly over to your alpha and back to you, but Yoongi didn't seem bothered by the threat. "That's not what heats are supposed to be like, and I'm going to make sure that you can see that someday. I know it won't be perfect this time, but I think we can make it better."

"How?" You asked softly.

"For starters, the four of us will be the only people allowed in this room. I'll do what I can to make sure you don't even smell the other alphas, and they won't bother you. Would that make you feel safer?"

"You'll be in here with me?" You looked at your alpha.

"We're not going to let you be alone this time, princess. We'll be here to make sure you stay hydrated and eat when you can. We can help keep you calm and make you as relaxed as possible," he said.

"But what about…will you…will we?"

He shook his head. "I made you a promise, pup, and I'm going to keep it. I'm not going to breed you. I'm just going to keep you company."

"But what if I…" You shrank into Jimin's chest and picked at your nails. "When I'm like that, sometimes I–" they all waited patiently while you tried to get the words out. "Sometimes I want it, even if I think I don't want it. It's like my body just…" your voice was strangled by the shame in your throat.

"That's completely normal, sweetheart," Hobi told you. "That's the whole point of being in heat. Everyone wants a knot. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Still, you flushed. "Then why don't you want to?" You asked Yoongi.

"I do!" He answered quickly and then tried to swallow his enthusiasm. "I mean, it's not that I don't want to. I don't want to, but not because I don't want you. I want you so much, princess, honestly. But I want you to feel safe and comfortable and to trust me way more than I want to satisfy some basic instinct for either of us."

"You're still attracted to me, right?" You asked in the shyest voice he's ever heard.

"Yes, princess. We talked about that," he grinned. "But that doesn't mean I need to breed you. Even if you beg for it."

"There are other ways to satisfy those needs, if they become overwhelming," Hobi interjected to point out.

You turned your attention back to him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Typically parents don't really want their adolescent omegas to go around breeding before they're ready. My parents let me use other methods, like plugs and dildos to scratch that itch. It's not the same, but it helps a little with the discomfort," he explained.

"Hobi, I don't know," Yoongi responded when you curled into Jimin's chest to hide your face.

"It's just a suggestion. It might help. I agree that you shouldn't be giving her your knot this time around, but she shouldn't have to suffer." He took your hand and made you look at him. "You've been taught that your body is something you should be ashamed and afraid of, but it isn't. The things you feel are normal and natural. It's okay to feel wary of an alpha. The two of you are still getting to know each other. But it's time for you to stop being afraid of yourself. Understand?"

You nodded slowly. "Can Yoongi and Jimin still like, hold me and kiss me? Or is that off limits too?"

Yoongi chuckled. "Of course. You can have all the cuddles and kisses you want, princess," he told you, stroking your cheek.

Hoseok nodded thoughtfully and sighed. "If there's nothing else, then I think you should go get a shower. Cool, not too hot or cold. A hot shower will pull you down faster, but a cold one will throw you off balance. After, you can put on something soft and new. I washed it all and put it in the wardrobe. If you feel up to it afterwards, then you can come down and eat with us. If not, I'll send the boys up with something."

You agreed and let Jimin help you off the bed, stumbling a little into him and finding that your coordination was already suffering. Hoseok gathered up the blankets in your nest.

"Jimin, you'd better go clean up, too. I'll go get some things washed and ready. I'll get Jin to order some pizza for dinner," Hobi said as he left the room.

"I've got to go out for a bit," Yoongi said, walking out after him.

Your soft whine stopped him in his tracks. "Do you have to work tonight?"

He looked softly down at you. "No, princess. I was off until Wednesday anyway, but I'll be calling in sick until it's over."

"You're coming back, right? I-I didn't scare you away?" The tangible fear in your voice shattered the last intact pieces of his heart. He walked back to where you stood in your doorway and placed his hand on your shoulder.

"Of course not. I'm just going to get a couple things for you. I'll be back in less than an hour. I promise." He kissed you on the forehead to seal it. You whispered an okay and watched him follow Hobi down the stairs before you walked across the hall to the bathroom.

"Are you really going to leave your omega when she's in pre-heat?" Hoseok asked when he heard the bathroom door close and they had reached the first floor.

"I have to. We're going with your plan, so I need to get her some things. Clock's ticking," Yoongi said as he searched around for his wallet and keys.

"Tae's already out. I can call him and have him make a stop," Hoseok said casually as he walked toward the laundry room.

"Taehyung is not buying my omega a knot plug," Yoongi said firmly and loudly. A little too loudly. In the kitchen, Jungkook choked on his drink and sputtered onto Jin.

"A what?" The beta asked as he wiped at his face.

"Don't worry about it," Hoseok said as he walked by. "Go on, Yoongi. I won't waste your time riling you up for my own amusement tonight. Hurry back."

Yoongi grumbled something unintelligible before he left the room.

"What was that about?" Jin asked after the front door closed. "Why does she need a knot plug when she has her alpha now?"

"She's not ready for all that," Hobi said softly. "And that's all anyone needs to know."

"Is it going to be like last time?" Jungkook wondered.

"For the four of you, pretty much. I'm expecting you to show some self-control. I'll be helping them as much as I can, so I won't be able to keep you in line. I don't want you or Namjoon so much as looking at her door. Not that it will be much of a problem for you," Hobi mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jin asked.

"I know you don't like her much. Hopefully that makes it easier to stay away."

Jin sighed. "I don't have anything against her, honestly. I'm staying away for Yoongi, and because I know she's scared. Joon–well, l don't know how he feels about it, but you don't have to worry about him. I'd worry about Taehyung if I were you."

"Why?"

"He's sniffing around her. I know you've noticed."

Hoseok shrugged. "Tae likes her. He won't do anything about it though. He knows she's fragile, and he won't do anything until she wants him to. He's harmless."

"If you say so," Jin shrugged. "Do you want me to stick around this week, just in case?"

"That's not necessary. We can handle it. I would bet on you needing to make time for me by the end of the week, if it's anything like last time," Hobi told him and the alpha nodded, trying not to look too excited about it.

When Yoongi returned forty-two minutes later, you and Jimin were both sitting at the kitchen table eating pizza, dressed in silky soft pajamas. Hoseok stood behind your chair, gently combing out your hair while Jungkook stood over Jimin with a towel, wringing the water from his hair. But what struck Yoongi was how happy the two of you looked. Jimin must have scented you a bit because that was the only time you ever looked so giddy. The beta, too, looked very giggly, but Jungkook always had the ability to make him that way.

"Did I miss something?" Yoongi asked after he stashed the bag he'd brought in by the stairs instead of bringing it into the kitchen.

"Nothing really. Just some sweet smelling pups," Hobi smiled. Yoongi could tell he was living a dream come true with your hair in his hands.

"My sweet smelling pups," Yoongi responded.

"Yeah, yeah." Hobi bent down to your ear, but spoke loudly enough for all to hear, "Alpha's so territorial."

You swallowed, but couldn't hide the heat in your cheeks. Yoongi replied with a non threatening growl.

"Yoon, your hair is wet, too," Jungkook said, walking over with the towel he had used on Jimin.

"I'm okay, Kookie." He ducked the towel coming for his head.

Jungkook shushed him. "Stubborn alpha."

"Is it raining out?" Jin asked.

"Pouring. It's supposed to storm off and on all night. You can't hear the thunder?"

They all shook their heads. They'd been laughing since the pizza got here. Over nothing even. It seemed like your scent in the air had loosened them all up, almost like they were intoxicated by you. Your sweet pheromones had become like a social lubricant, making everything easier between all of you. Something sick and familiar twisted in Yoongi's gut. He should be happy everything was so harmonious—and part of him certainly was—but it grated against his own jealousy that wanted to hide you away for himself, just a little longer.

"Come eat, alpha," your sweet voice broke through, and his dark clouds cleared. "You can sit by me," you added shyly, as if he wouldn't want to.

Without giving a second thought to the feelings of a moment ago, he did as you suggested and sat to eat. He'd need every calorie to put every bit of energy into looking after you. You pulled your chair closer to his and he looked down at you surprised.

"I'm glad you came back," you whispered while the others talked.

"I told you I would," he replied.

"I know, and I tried really hard to believe it. I was just scared and I…i don't want to lose you," you admitted.

Yoongi gave you a tight smile as he stroked your hair. "You won't. No matter what happens, in the next few days or in the future, I'll be right here. I'll be yours. You don't have to worry."

He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and pulled away to see you smiling, a little dopey, your eyes shining bright. "Okay."

You let him eat, but stuck close by his side, swatting at Jimin's hands when he tried to pull you away. Yoongi grinned like an idiot and teased him about being your favorite.

"She's in heat, and you're her alpha. It doesn't mean anything," Jimin grumbled back.

When he noticed you begin to sag, not less happy but beginning to look more tired, Hobi grabbed your purple blanket from the dryer and whisked you upstairs. It was time for your first heat nest, as well as your first nest for your pack. They looked on from the hallway, your alpha and beta, but you tried not to look back at them.

"Do you think…?" You felt very nervous, afraid you wouldn't be able to provide the comfort they were used to.

"Don't think about it," Hobi told you. "Remember, the nest isn't for them. It's for you, and they're just lucky to be there. Only worry about what you need tonight."

Maybe your nest ended up a little asymmetrical as you tried your best to make it bigger for the three of you. Only you and Hobi noticed, and no one said a thing. It was cozy and warm and enough for your pack. That was all that mattered right now. When you had each pillow and blanket where you felt it should go, you turned to the boys. They only looked back at you, so you walked to the door and grabbed Jimin by the wrist to pull him over to the bed. Never one to pass up the opportunity to tease, he merely stood there, waiting for you to puppet him into position, to place him like one of your soft pillows. When you looked up at him with large pleading eyes, he still didn't respond. You huffed and pushed him on the bed, to which he only giggled as he flopped over. Yoongi was much more eager to please. His smile looked like it might crack his face in half as he went to his designated spot. Then you looked back at Hobi.

"All that's left is you, pup," he smiled softly at you.

You bit your lip before you found your voice to speak. "Is it good?"

"That's for you to decide, and for that you have to get in," he urged, gently guiding you to the side of the bed where you had put Yoongi. "But from here it looks very good, little one."

You looked doubtfully at your nest for a moment, wondering how to go about getting into it, before Yoongi grabbed you by your waist and lifted you in to lay between him and Jimin. The beta didn't waste a second wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your neck playfully.

"This is definitely one of the best nests I've ever been in," he said as he probed your scent gland with his nose.

Yoongi smiled at the two of you before he looked back at Hobi. He thought the omega looked almost longing, as if he wished he could be in there, too. "Thank you, Hobah," Yoongi said softly when he caught the alpha watching.

"I didn't do anything," Hobi replied.

Yoongi shook his head. "We wouldn't be here without you. You've helped a lot."

Hobi sighed, "Well, I'll just be down the hall if you need anything."

Before he could leave, Yoongi reached out to take his hand and pulled him closer. He placed a kiss on the omega's lips and whispered another thanks.

"Goodnight, pups. Sleep well," he said before leaving the room, but Jimin was already taking your mind far away.

The thunder didn't start up again until you were already asleep, well and deeply off to dreamland after Jimin and Yoongi scented you into a happy puddle between them. Jimin's lavender had been getting stronger over the past couple of weeks. He might not have noticed it, but you had. As he drove your scent higher and higher, his own followed suit. Tonight, his soothing smell soaked the pillow under your head as well as the air around you, and maybe that's why your usually awful dreams were just slightly less so.

Maybe you had taken some of the power out of the memories when you told the three of them earlier.

Maybe, for once, you just felt safe.

You always dreamed about that first heat every time after that. It was one of the things you wanted to avoid when you decided to use the pills to escape the endless cycles. Sometimes you dreamed that when you were alone at night in the woods, animals came and tore you apart with their teeth. Sometimes other villains from your past waited to give you fitting punishment for the transgression of being what you were born to be.

Tonight, after your parents dropped you off at the edge of the trees, the sky grew dark with rain clouds, and thunder cracked loudly overhead. You screamed, and a hand reached out to grab your shoulder. As you tried to squirm away, hiding your face to avoid a blow, you heard his voice. Quiet and steady.

"It's okay, princess. I'm here." It was Yoongi's voice speaking to you in the darkness, and he took you in his arms. "It's just a storm."

He pulled you to your feet and you began to walk deeper into the forest.

"Where are we going?" You asked as you stumbled along beside him.

"I'm taking you home," he answered.

Another loud clap of thunder rumbled the whole house, and your eyes snapped open. Your fists tightened around Yoongi's shirt.

"It's okay, princess. It's just a storm. I'm right here." His soft voice was followed by lips pressed to your forehead.

"Where are we?" You asked.

"We're at home. We're in your nest. It's safe and perfect. You did such a good job pup," he complimented, his arms secured around you.

You relaxed against him, letting go of his t-shirt, and pressed your forehead to his collarbone. "I'm really glad you like it."

Yoongi hummed appreciatively. "You're my favorite part though."

Butterflies rustled their wings in your stomach and you pressed yourself closer "Sorry for waking you."

"You didn't. Go back to sleep, little one. I'll be here, watching over you."

You couldn't fight the command, either because you were eager to do as he asked or because your eyes were already heavy and closing on their own. It really didn't matter.

Yoongi wasn't naive enough to believe that the next several days were going to be easy for him. He knew it would take a level of self-restraint that he'd never had to possess before. But it would be worth it if he could make you feel safe.

He hadn't pictured waking up with his leg between yours while you grind your heat against his thigh. Your mouth was wet and warm as you kissed and licked at his collar bone. At first, he didn't know what he should do. He didn't mind. Not in the slightest. He was more than happy to lay there and offer you any relief he could. But he was cognizant enough to realize that your actions might progress into more complicated territory, if he let it, and the farther you got, the harder it would be to stop or change course.

Yoongi turned more onto his side, raising his hand to your back before sliding it up to your hair. His grip was firm but gentle as he held you a few inches away from him.

"Good morning, princess," he said softly and watched you smile. Your eyes were completely glazed over, but you looked so happy. He kept you there for several more seconds before you started to whine.

"Alpha," was the only word to pass your lips, and it came out desperately. Your hips, which had paused before, began to move in circular motions again, and your whines deepened in pitch until they became moans. Warm, gooey apple pie coated his tongue and his skin as it fluffed out from your scent glands. The deep primal place within him that mirrors yours began to rumble in his chest, a satisfied growl that told him this was right. You were his omega, and he had you oh so close at last. He brought your mouth to his in a teeth-clashing, devouring kiss that you happily reciprocated. Yoongi's other arm wound around your back, pulling your chest against his. Nothing but the thin fabric of the soft pajamas you both wore stood between your bodies. He couldn't get enough of you, and he wanted you to get all of him that you needed, so he held you firmly and let you continue your writhing against him.

It wasn't long before your movement woke Jimin, too. For a moment, he was confused, having never woken up in your nest before. But he turned over to see you pressed against Yoongi, both oblivious to him as you kissed. He sat up quickly, wondering if Yoongi had already lost his self-control so quickly and was relieved to see you both had your clothes on still. A smirk crossed his lips at how greedily you kissed Yoongi. With Hoseok, there were always so many partners to focus on, so many other bodies in the room. He never looked quite as hungry as you did now. And Yoongi never quite got to have his way with Hoseok the way he was with you now, giving you his complete and undivided attention. At least until Jimin reached out and touched your waist, at which point he pulled away just far enough to let out a feral growl.

You let out a sound, half whine, half moan, but Jimin just laughed.

"Calm down, hyung. It's just me," he said as he ran his fingers into Yoongi's hair and pulled slightly. "It's just Jiminie."

In response, Yoongi gave a happy grumble and raised his head to get a kiss from Jimin. The beta nipped playfully at his lips that you had kissed swollen and pouty. He could taste you all over Yoongi's mouth, and you were as delicious as you smelled. Half laying back down beside you, Jimin pulled you against him, creating a little distance between you and your alpha. He held you firmly at your ribs, just under your breast. A sigh slipped past your lips as Jimin's mouth met your shoulder. His teeth pinched your skin before his soft lips soothed his bites away.

Yoongi, however, wasn't too pleased with having his plaything stolen away and slid down to press kisses to bits of skin that your thin tank top left exposed. Hungry, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones led to red-turning-purple hickies blooming on the swells at the top of your breasts.

And that's how Hobi found you when he came to bring you breakfast, only to discover you being devoured. He couldn't help a little laugh.

"Look at the three of you, humping like a bunch of horny teenagers."

Three sets of eyes, all black-pitted with arousal, turned in his direction, startled but not alarmed.

"Sorry to interrupt, pups, but I think I did you a favor. You need something to eat and drink." He set a tray at the end of the bed and knelt on the wooden chest to chat with you all. Well, with Jimin and Yoongi. Their eyes were slowly returning to normal while yours remained somewhat clouded, too far down in omega space to come up simply because someone brought in food. Yoongi helped you sit up, though it was really more like leaning you against him. Jimin pulled up the top of your shirt, but it did nothing to hide the darkening bruises.

"How was last night?" Hoseok asked as Yoongi plucked a tangerine from the tray of food and quickly peeled the rind in one piece. He tore away a slice and pressed it to your lips.

"Eat it," he chuckled when you only looked up at him, and you opened your mouth just enough for him to slide it past your lips. "It was fine. She had a couple nightmares, but I think it was the storms, and she calmed down soon after."

Jimin hummed as he took a sip of coffee. "It would make sense that she doesn't like storms," Jimin thought aloud, as if you weren't there, and in a way, you weren't. You didn't process much of what they said but only stared at Yoongi's lips, waiting to be given another bite. It wasn't the food you craved, but your alpha's attention.

"Why?" Hobi asked, watching you fixate on Yoongi. He wondered if he looked that cute and absorbed in his alphas.

"I mean, all that time she spent on the street, she probably has weathered a few bad ones. And then there was the night she came home…"

Hobi shuttered at the thought of you alone and wet. But sitting as you were now with Yoongi, there was nothing but happiness and safety visible around you.

"You're safe now, aren't you, pup?" Yoongi cooed as his thumb lingered over your bottom lip.

"See if she'll take some of the eggs," Hobi suggested, handing him a bowl of scrambled eggs. "She needs protein, too. Sometimes you guys forget."

There were forks on the tray, but Yoongi didn't bother with it. The eggs were firm enough for him to grab a bite with his fingers. Now you eagerly opened your mouth for him, lightly licking his fingertips when they touched your tongue. It could have been gross, but if the way the three men watched you was any indication, it was clearly erotic. Hobi watched Yoongi feed you a couple more bites before he snapped out of it.

"How is she handling…her urges?" He asked, struggling to find a way to put it delicately. Normally he wouldn't bother, but with you the whole topic felt more sensitive.

Yoongi shrugged.

"They were already all over each other when I woke up," Jimin answered.

"She was all over me when I woke up!" Yoongi defended. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Control yourself a little, maybe?" Hoseok suggested.

"I was! I would have stopped it before it got any farther," Yoongi said, but he wasn't completely convincing.

"Yoon." Hobi looked into the alpha's eyes deeply and they stared at one another for a long moment.

"Don't worry guys. That's what I'm here for. I promise not to let him go too far," Jimin interrupted.

Hobi sighed and lowered his eyes to the tray of food. "Can you guys handle this?"

"We can!" Jimin answered. "I promise. We've got this. I'm not going to let her get hurt."

"Well, then I guess I'll go get her dildos ready for when the time comes," Hoseok said with an eye roll as he hauled himself up from his seat.

"I didn't buy her dildos! There will be no fucking! It's just to ease her discomfort," Yoongi responded.

"Gosh, you're so sensitive right now, Yoongles," Hobi snickered. His mocking was all for Yoongi, not for you. Yet deep down, the omega was proud of him for making these choices for you. Most alphas probably wouldn't. Most would either try to convince an omega to do something they weren't comfortable with or leave the omega alone to deal with it themselves. The fact that Yoongi, and even Jimin, was willing to go through the discomfort of not being able to care for you in the traditional way filled Hobi with pride.

He left the room, picking up the black bag Yoongi had brought home last night on his way to the bathroom across the hall. With the door shut, he removed not one but two silicone plugs. At the store, Yoongi had realized how unprepared he was. He didn't know what size you would need. One the one hand, you were so tiny, it didn't seem like anything but the smallest would fit inside of you, but on the other, his inner voice had told him you'd need to feel nice and full to be comfortable. In the end, he chose a smaller one and another he thought was comparable to his own size and rushed home. But at least he'd thought about getting the special cleanser, too. The pack wasn't big into sex toys, having more than enough appendages of all sizes to go around. Hobi carefully removed the plugs from their packaging and cleaned them thoroughly. Then he placed them in a soft, clean towel and took them back across the hall, setting them on top of your dresser.

He sighed and wiped his hands on his pants. "Okay, so, they should be ready…whenever you need them."

He went to go grab the tray off the bed, which the boys had mostly cleared off. Yoongi watched the omega while chewing the inside of his check. When their eyes met, he decided to speak.

"I was kind of hoping you'd be here to help," he said quickly and softly. His cheeks heating with shame and a flurry of other emotions. Yoongi could fuck with the best of them. Of the alphas, only he and Taehyung had ever been with women. But Yoongi was still at a loss of how to do this, and how to handle you. In his heart, he was terrified of hurting you, or scaring you and ruining everything. Maybe it was wrong to use Hobi as a crutch, but he needed it.

Hoseok froze, half crouched with the tray in his hands. His eyes slid from Yoongi over to you where you buried your face in Yoongi's shoulder. He was uncharacteristically speechless, and spent several long seconds searching for words.

"Oh…um…well. I didn't realize you'd actually need me for that part," he admitted. "I have some things I need to do right now."

"Not right now, no. I don't think she's there yet. It might not be until later. But I–I think we need you, Hobi." The desperation in Yoongi's vice only made things more difficult for the omega.

"I don't know, Yoongi. Jin…I don't know if he would like it."

Yoongi hung his head. He couldn't argue with that. There wasn't necessarily any reason for Jin to disapprove. It wouldn't interfere with anything regarding Hoseok or Jin's pack. Not really. But you were part of Yoongi's pack, and Hoseok was not. And you weren't Jin's either. This was new and uncharted territory, but Yoongi realized he really wasn't in a position to ask this much. Seokjin had been as good as he could be expected to be in the last few weeks, and to ask any more might be pushing their luck.

"Right. I understand," Yoongi sighed.

"It's not that I don't want to help, Yoon–"

Yoongi held up a hand. "No. No, I get it. I shouldn't have asked. It's too much to ask. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry," Hoseok said softly.

"No. It's alright. You can go." Yoongi said it quietly enough that Hobi knew he wasn't mad, but he could help feeling that the alpha seemed defeated, and his stomach swirled with guilt. He lowered his eyes and backed out of the room. Just before the door closed, he heard Jimin's voice:

"Don't worry, hyung. We'll work it out."

Hobi carried the tray down to the kitchen and set it on the counter next to the sink. He inhaled deeply and exhaled to release the tension in his shoulders. Instead of immediately starting on the dishes, he decided to seek out Taehyung.

Although he hadn't seen the youngest alpha get up, he'd seen the pack's bedroom door open, so he knew he must be around somewhere. He wasn't playing games in the living room, so Hobi looked for him in the sun room at the front of the house that had been granted to him as his art studio. But he wasn't there either. So Hobi went to the backdoor and slipped into someone's slides. Noticing the door to the detached garage was open, he set off across the spacious backyard in that direction.

Inside the dusty outbuilding was an assortment of things that Hoseok either hadn't yet found a place for or wasn't willing to let go of, alongside tools and Hobi's ambitions for a blooming garden by the time summer came around, but no cars. He did, however, find his alpha. Taehyung must have been lost in thought because he jumped a little when Hobi spoke.

"What's an alpha like you doing all the way out here?" He asked in that teasing voice he seemed to love using most on Tae.

"I thought I'd get started on your garden finally," he said flatly. "If we keep putting it off, the season will go by."

"You need to start today?"

"It's a beautiful day," Tae countered. Hoseok didn't miss the fact that the alpha hadn't looked at him once since he walked in, so he stepped forward to place a hand on his cheek. The two men were almost exactly the same height, so it wasn't difficult for Hobi to meet him eye to eye.

"Is something on your mind?" He asked. Tae closed his eyes and took a breath, breathing in the scent of you.

"It's just kind of strange, y'know. Spending time with her yesterday, I guess I felt like I was on the inside track, and now I feel so far outside. I just want to see her and talk to her and…"

"Fuck her brains out?"

"I'm not a pig, Hoseok…. But I am an alpha so like just a little bit. Yeah, I guess," he chuckled while his ears reddened. "I just want to spend some time outside until the others come back, so you don't have to worry about me."

Hoseok smiled as he placed his other hand on the other side of Tae's face and stroked his beautiful high cheekbones. "That's fine, baby boy. It's good to keep yourself busy," he agreed before he kissed his lips gently. "You're doing a great job. And I'm sure as soon as this is all over, you'll be right back where you were with her."

Taehyung's eyes sparked with hope. "I hope so. How is she doing?"

Hoseok attempted to keep his smile in place, but Taehyung knew it well enough to see how the corners of his lips drooped. "She's getting through it. It's not easy for her. It doesn't mean to her what it means to us. Not yet anyway."

Taehyung frowned. "Do you ever see her and think how lucky you are that you got to grow up with your family?" Hobi hummed. "The ways she doesn't know how to be herself are more heartbreaking than the scars of how people have hurt her."

"I'm trying my best–" Hoseok's voice broke at the thought of continuing your life as you'd been living it.

"You're doing so well with her. Sometimes, I think the luckiest thing will be her having you. Not to disrespect Yoongi hyung, but he can only make her physically safe. Which is important but…I don't know if it would ever matter if you weren't there to stop her from hurting herself on the inside."

Hoseok lowered his eyes and shook his head. "Sometimes the things she says make me so mad, if they came from anyone else, I'd slap them right in the mouth."

Taehyung laughed. "Well, don't do that, and I think she'll keep learning from you. You're good for her."

"I'm just doing my best. I can't fix her."

"You don't have to fix her. I know you love her. That's enough."

Hobi thought it over for a moment. "I guess I do…like I would a child."

Tae snorted. "Sure, hyung. Like a child."

Hoseok went back into the house to take care of the dishes from the morning. There were no sounds coming from upstairs. Your scent filled the house, but it remained even. Maybe you had fallen asleep in your pack's arms. Regardless, he couldn't keep his thoughts from you. His help was needed, and he wanted to give it, but how far could he go to do that?

Yoongi and Jin had drawn lines around you that were clear and solid for the members of the two packs living in his house, but not for Hobi. No one could exactly tell the pack omega what to do, not even Jin, but that didn't necessarily mean he would do whatever he pleased. Even though helping you through this ordeal wouldn't impact Hoseok and his upcoming heat in any way, that didn't mean he was free to lend himself out for…sexual services. But it wasn't like you were an alpha or that Hobi would get any gratification from helping you. His head spun with the ramifications, and his stomach twisted into knots as he scrubbed dish after dish.

Finally, he decided to do the only thing he could do when he struggled to make a decision. He called his husband.

"Hello, my love. Is everything okay?" Jin asked when he answered his phone. It wasn't common for Hoseok to call him in the morning at work.

"Yeah, everyone's fine," Hobi answered, but he couldn't hide the shake in his voice from Jin, and the silence that lingered after didn't help to sell it.

Jin smiled. He knew if something was really wrong that Hoseok wouldn't hesitate to say it, so there must be something on his mind, and whatever it was made him shy. "What is it, Seokkie?"

The omega blushed at the infrequently used pet name. It made him feel like a boy again. It had been Jungkook who started calling him Hobi, and now Jin only used 'Seokkie' when they were alone or he wanted to be particularly intimate. It reminded them both of just how long their love story was and how deeply they knew one another. Hoseok explained your predicament to his husband in a rush of words, like ripping off a bandaid.

"I see," Jin responded when he'd finished, not knowing what else to say.

"If you don't want me to do it, then I won't," Hobi added.

Jin chuckled. "You're asking for my permission? Since when?"

"This is serious Jinnie."

The alpha took a beat to appreciate that. Hoseok was right. He'd explained your history to Jin last night, so he knew just how fragile you were on the subject. He didn't expect to hear how Yoongi struggled. "Do you want to do it for Yoongi or for her?"

Hobi sighed. "Both? I don't know. I want her to feel okay. I want to help him avoid doing something he'll regret later. I want everyone to feel happy. Including you. Including me."

Jin considered that. He tried to consider how Yoongi must feel, only being able to offer his omega this small bit of relief instead of what he would naturally want to give you. But he knew that Yoongi wasn't really the obstacle to helping you. It was him. It was knowing that you were Yoongi's in the way that Hobi was his. And as much as Hobi could go his own way on things, he'd never disrespect Jin or disregard his feelings. "Do you think she'll be part of our pack one day? Is that a possibility?"

Hobi's tone brightened. "I really do! She's trying very hard, Jinnie. She's listening and learning. And I think she trusts me. I think she could trust you."

Jin conceded. "I'm not going to stop you, my love. If you want to help them, it's fine with me. But only if you're comfortable with it, and not because Yoongi is in over his head."

Hoseok felt some of the pressure lift off his chest. "Okay." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Look, I don't know if this will even happen today, let alone when. So I might be busy when you come home."

"Don't worry, love. I'll take the other boys out for dinner. We'll get our time with you later this week." Hoseok could hear the happiness in his tone, but he didn't dwell on it. Those feelings would have to wait a few days. They said their goodbyes and hung up with Hobi feeling a bit lighter. But he'd be lying if he said Jin had alleviated all his worries.

He had permission now, but that didn't mean that he would be able to do.

Hoseok had never been with another omega before, let alone a woman. And he knew Yoongi said it wasn't fucking, but was still intimate and sexual, and he didn't think he had any idea what to do down there, with you. He knew you weren't that different, but you were different enough for him to feel scared.

But even that wasn't the real issue that he was afraid of facing. Hoseok cared for you deeply. He wouldn't say it to your face because he's just not serious like that, but he could even think he loved you. Maybe not quite in a paternal way, but as a mentor, an older brother; as someone whose job it was to teach you about life. He didn't want to see you as an object of attraction. He didn't want to acknowledge how his heart fluttered yesterday as you tried on outfit after outfit, or how his breath catches when he sees you really smile, much less how fucking good you smell during your heat, when your scent coats the back of his throat, or how sexy your lips looked touching Yoongi's fingers this morning. Hobi wasn't ready to be attracted to you or in love with you. It wasn't on his list of things to do with you.

Footsteps on the stairs pulled Hoseok from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Jimin round the corner with his phone to his ear, giving him a remorseful look. He took his cue to go upstairs and check on how things were going. It had been about an hour since he'd left your room, and he wondered if something had happened. He opened the door quietly and poked his head in.

"Is everything okay?" He asked.

Yoongi's attention snapped from the phone in his hand to the omega. "Yeah, fine. I was just about to text you. Jimin had to take a call from work, and I really have to go to the bathroom. Would you mind staying with her for a few minutes? She's asleep, but I don't want her to wake up alone."

"Of course. No problem," Hobi nodded. Normally, for him, there were enough packmates that he would never be left alone. Not that he couldn't be left alone, but it was a bit distressing, particularly during the headier moment of heat, to find oneself all alone. And given that this was your first heat in a while to not spend alone—your first one to spend with them—it made sense that Yoongi wouldn't want to leave you in your own. It would cause him a different kind of distress to do so.

Yoongi gently rolled you off of his chest so that you lay on your back and he could free his arm. He got up quietly and quickly left the room. When you were alone, you rolled into your other side and whimpered softly. You bent one leg up towards your body, while the other one stuck straight out toward Hobi. He couldn't help but be fascinated by your little feet. They seemed too small to be able to carry you through the world, yet their wear and callouses showed they worked hard to do just that. Seeing how tiny they were reminded him of how quietly you moved through the house. He was still trying to learn the sounds of your footsteps and of your breathing so that he'd be able to recognize you just by that, the way he could the rest of his pack.

It wasn't a secret even though he was trying to hide it, that Hobi already thought of you as his. He'd waited a long time for an omega like you. Someone like him that he could share this pack with, through its highs and lows and day to days.

He didn't realize he was holding onto your foot, stoking his thumb over the bulge of your ankle, until you spoke his name.

"Hobi?" You asked, voice gravelly and thick with sleep.

"It's just me, pup," he nodded.

You looked around at your surroundings and noticed he was right. It was just him and you. The air around you felt cold, sending goosebumps down your arms despite your internal heat. You weakly raised a hand toward him. "Will you come lay with me?"

Hoseok swallowed and stood up slowly to walk to the edge of the bed on the side Jimin took. When he looked in your eyes, they were clearer than they had been this morning. He stood silently, looking at you, for a long moment before either of you spoke. "I've never been in your nest before, pup."

"I'm inviting you in now. Please come lay down," you said so softly he could barely hear it.

But he took it genuinely and climbed in over the perimeter to where you laid. He settled several inches from you, but you scooted closer, forcing him to hold you. He knew you'd never do that if you weren't in your current condition, but he didn't refuse you. Instead, he managed to get one arm under your head while the other stroked up and down your back. You pressed your head into his chest and breathed in deep.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your scent?" You asked. He shook his head, unable to form words around the sudden tightness in his chest, as if his heart and lungs were too big for his ribcage. "It's so warm and comforting to me. Your scent is on every surface in this house, and it smells like love."

Your voice was so dreamy, Hobi wasn't sure if you knew what you were saying, but it filled him with warmth regardless, and his scent fluffed around you. Your hands fisted around his shirt, and you buried your face in him. He liked you like this, uninhibited, taking what you wanted and needed without feeling shy. It was easy to wrap his arms around you and hold you closer. He could only hope you felt as safe with him as you truly were.

Yoongi returned pleasantly surprised to find both of his omegas tangled up in your nest. You had already fallen back asleep and Hobi appeared to be studying every hair on your head. His eyes turned up to meet Yoongi's and the alphas wide smile broke across his face.

"You certainly made yourself at home," Yoongi teased as he closed the door.

"She invited me."

"I know you wouldn't be here if she hadn't."

"What are you looking at?" Hoseok asked when Yoongi continued to stare.

"Just enjoying this moment. Jin would be so jealous if he knew what I had all to myself right now."

Hobi rolled his eyes. "It's not a competition."

"We're alphas. It's always a competition."

Yoongi placed his knees behind your back and leaned over you to kiss Hoseok. The omega's lips were dry, but Yoongi licked across them and they parted, letting him deepen the kiss.

Hoseok chuckled and pulled back as much as he could in his position. "What are you doing?"

Yoongi shrugged and moved to lay behind you. "Just telling you I love you." He laid his hand on the curve of your side. "She idolizes you, you know?"

Hoseok's eyes widened. "I don't think so."

"She does. She talks about the things you teach her and tell her, like you're some revered master. She wants your approval. Even more than I think she wants mine." Yoongi's eyes roamed over your body, wondering if you heard them.

"It's not about my approval," Hobi whispered.

"I know that. She said to me a few weeks ago that she wants to be good so she can stay. I think she's starting to get that there isn't anything she can do that will make me send her away. But she is afraid of disappointing you. I know she isn't perfect, but don't be too hard on her, please?" Yoongi locked eyes with him, and Hobi could see his sincerity in those depths.

"Tae mentioned earlier that she makes him feel lucky, I guess because even if he lost his family, he still knew them, and he learned enough from them not to let the world get him down. She doesn't have that. I don't want her to be exactly like me. I just don't want her to be all the things they've made her believe she is. It hurts too much. And if it hurts me, with all the advantages I have, I can't possibly imagine how much damage it does to her," Hobi concluded. He gently brushed hair out of your face with the lightest of touches, relieved to see that you were still soundly asleep.

Before Yoongi could find any way to respond, the door opened once again and Jimin entered.

"Is everything okay?" Yoongi asked.

"Everything is fine. Just some alphas who need to work their shit out, but it's not my problem today, and that's what I told them." Jimin climbed over the chest at the end of the bed and up to the perimeter of your nest.

"They gave you a hard time?"

Jimin shook his head. "Taehyung on the other hand…well he's getting very sweaty in the backyard right now, and it was a little distracting," he giggled.

"I'm sorry for taking your spot, but I dont think I'm allowed to move," Hobi said without an ounce of remorse.

Jimin shrugged as he moved over the perimeter and laid at the bottom of your nest. "I'm fine right here."

Alpha.

You'd been asleep for a long time. It was your primary mechanism for getting through your heats when you couldn't avoid them. If you were sleeping, you might have bad dreams, but you could avoid the physical sensations associated with your condition. Your sleep since last night had been relatively peaceful, which you could only contribute to the soothing scents of your pack and even hobi, which surrounded you as you slept. But now Yoongi was missing from your nest, and you needed him.

Not just needed him there, but you needed him.

Need alpha's knot now. Please. Your tiny voice in your head begged. You could feel it, the ache between your legs. You could feel the thick, warm slick leaking from you, ready and waiting for your alpha to give you what was yours.

"Alpha," you whined brokenly, alerting the others that you were awake. You had begun to murmur his name a little while ago, seeking him out with your hands and your mouth before you were conscious enough to make a real effort. Hoseok could see that you were now. "Where's alpha," you cried.

"I'm over here, princess," Yoongi breathed from the chair in the corner where he sat, apart from you, but still keeping watch.

"In the nest," you whined.

"I can't be with you right now. I'm sorry," he told you. If you were fully yourself, you'd be able to hear the regret in his voice, but you didn't.

"Why? Give me a knot, alpha. Promise I'll be good. Just need your knot."

Yoongi's hands gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. "I wish I could, baby." You began to cry, and the sight of your tears made him ache in a way so much stronger than the strain in his muscle to keep himself off of you. He knew it would be hard to deny himself, but he didn't know how hard it would be to deny you. "Hobi, Jimin, please," he croaked.

Suddenly a hand on your ankle grabbed your attention. You looked down and could make out Jimin's face through your tears.

"It's okay, sweet thing. Hobi and I are going to make you feel better," he said soothingly.

"Alpha…doesn't want me."

A growl came low from Yoongi's corner, but you didn't get a chance to look in his direction because another hand was holding your face and demanding your gaze.

"That isn't true," Hobi said firmly. "Your alpha wants you too much for his own good. But he's doing this for you. He cares for you so much, he doesn't want to hurt you. You'll understand when this is all over."

If possible, your features turned even more sad. "When will it be over?" You rasped.

He wiped away your tears with his thumbs. "Hold on for me a while longer, little one. Can Jimin and I help you?"

"Help?"

"We can help make the aching go away. But you have to stop crying first," he told you softly as he continued to dry your cheeks.

You sniffed and scrunched your face, as if you were physically shutting off the tears. Your eyes finally cleared and you looked at Hobi expectantly. "I'll do anything."

He smiled as if he were amused and kissed your cheek. "Good girl. We're gonna make you feel nice and full, okay?"

You gave a muted squeak of excitement. "First let Jimin take off your shorts, okay?"

You nodded and laid back on the nest. Hobi moved away from you, which startled you at first, but Jimin distracted you with his hands, gliding them smoothly up your legs from your ankles to your hips. He hovered over you to capture your mouth with a kiss. His lips were warm and wet. His kiss wasn't shy or chaste, but messy and ravenous as he licked into your mouth. His fingers dug into your thighs as you kissed him back. You lifted your hips up when he gripped your waistband and pulled the shorts down your legs without taking his mouth from yours. Meanwhile, Hoseok got up to grab the smaller of the two fake knots they had prepared for you. When he returned, Jimin redirected his mouth to your neck, giving you soft sucking kisses.

"Okay, little one." He held the plug in front of your face. "This little knot is all yours. I'll help you put it in, and you can keep it as long as you want."

He could see you were a little confused. You looked to your alpha, who was still holding himself back, but looked a little more at ease. Instead of digging into the upholstery, he held his fist around the pair of shorts Jimin had tossed his way.

"Go on, princess. Let alpha see how pretty you look when you're full," he said, his voice coming from deep in his gut.

"Let us see, sweet thing," Jimin hummed in your ear. "You'll feel so nice."

You turned your eyes to Hoseok and nodded your consent.

"If you want a knot, you'll have to ask for it, pup," he said evenly. He was teasing, but he also wanted to make sure you really wanted it.

"Please, please give me a knot," you begged pitifully, rubbing your thighs together as you continued to ache for it. "I need to feel it. Please."

Jimin lapped hungrily at the scent gland under your chin while Hobi moved to your lower half. "You've never smelled sweeter, sweet thing. I wanna eat you up," Jimin teased, making you giggle, distracting you from Hoseok prying your legs apart.

Hoseok can say unequivocally that he's never been this close to a pussy in his life—with the singular exception of when he was born. He was surprised to find himself thinking how cute you are. Your sweet little hole didn't really look like his, but you were just as wet and messy and sweet as he gets. Your labia were puffy and he was sure they ached to feel relief. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he dared to touch his fingers to the rim of your entrance. At the lightest pressure, you clenched around nothing, and Hoseok felt the most unexpected shock of arousal ring through him. He didn't need to think before he pushed the tips of his two middle fingers inside of you. It might be more prudent to start with one, but you were in heat and you were more than ready to take him.

Your answering moan filled the room, and Hoseok was glad that Jin took the others out for dinner because you sounded so heavenly, he didn't think the three of them would be able to stop the other four from barging in.

"Such a pretty sound for me, baby," Jimin cooed while Yoongi melted in his chair, wishing he could be closer, but so happy to hear you were being pleased.

Hoseok pushed one more finger past your slick walls and nearly moaned himself when he felt you squeeze around him.

"You're doing great, little one," he praised as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling your muscles loosen little by little. "Are you ready to take your knot, pup?" He asked when he felt like you'd opened up enough. He took your garbled moan and the way you clenched as a yes.

Hobi spread some of your slick from his fingers onto the plug, though it was hardly necessary. Your hole was dripping with it, and he had felt you gush onto his hand before. He looked up to see your face.

"It might hurt for a second, little one. Tell me to stop if you want me to stop," he instructed, and you nodded your head.

Jimin trailed his mouth down to your breast, pulling down your top to expose a perky little nipple, which he sucked into his mouth. Hobi rubbed the head of the plug over your entrance to coat it with your slick before he slowly pushed it inside of you. Your moans were deep and throaty, and he had to bite back his own arousal as your walls closed in around the silicone head. Despite his fears of hurting you, the toy slid in easily until it was buried fully inside you. It wasn't as long as a real knot, and it didn't have quite the same girth as your alpha, but it fit snugly within your walls, and he could tell it was doing just what they'd wanted when you let out a happy sigh.

Hoseok came to lie at your side and turned your face so he could see your eyes. They were fully glassy and happy as they rolled to look at him. Your debauched expression threatened to steal the better part of his sanity.

"How does that feel, little one?" He breathed.

"So full," you answered and your body wriggled beneath them, but there seemed to be some words hanging, left unsaid, but Hoseok didn't quite know what.

"You can touch yourself, if you want to, sweet thing," Jimin rasped in your ear.

Don't you dare.

You shut your eyes tight and shook your head. "Can't," you hiccuped.

Understanding dawned on Hoseok and he touched your face. "Look at me," he ordered and you obeyed. "You're doing so well, little one. Such a good little omega for us. You can do it."

You shook your head again. "Can't. Bad," you choked out. "Bad."

"No, pup."

"Let me in," Yoongi said, suddenly standing over Hoseok's shoulder.

"Yoongi…"

"I'm not going to do anything I said I wouldn't," Yoongi argued, but his eyes were locked with yours. "Let me hold her."

"Alpha," you whispered, holding a hand out to him, and Hobi had no choice but to relinquish his spot beside you, though he didn't move far.

"I've got you, princess," he soothed when he was pressed to your side with one arm behind your head. "Does it feel good to be so filled up?"

You nodded your head into him, seeking out his neck and his thick scent. But he wouldn't let you turn into him.

"I know, baby. You were made for this. Your body does it so well. But you don't feel totally better yet, do you, princess?"

"No."

Yoongi smiled and kissed your forehead. Taking your hand he murmured, "here, let me show you. It's not bad. It will feel good. You've been so perfect, princess. I want you to feel the best you can."

With his hand covering yours, he guided you down between your legs. He brought your fingers far enough to feel the silicone base of the plug where it was buried inside of you.

"Do you feel that, baby? Alpha gave you that. Do you like it?" He purred in your ear. You whimpered and nodded your head, utterly incapable of forming words with the way his body, his scent and his voice wrapped around your being.

Pulling your hand back just a little, he pressed your fingers to the puffy, sensitive flesh just above. You mewled in pleasure, moving your hips as you squeezed around the knot. He began to circle your fingers around your bud, appreciating the delicate sounds of satisfaction you made as he guided you. When you moaned, Jimin reclaimed your mouth with a kiss, claiming your sounds for his own. Yoongi left his hand on yours but let you set the pace while at the same time letting his other hand cup your breast, squeezing it harshly. Another set of hands—they must have been Hobi's—held your legs apart when they threatened close so that he could continue you watch as you pleasured yourself. When your moans got higher and he knew you were close, Yoongi pressed his fingers down on yours, adding pressure and ensuring you didn't give up until you reached completion.

"Almost there, princess. You've done so well for me. Come for me, and you can keep my knot in you as long as you want," he urged, and you followed where his words and fingers led you, over the edge and into a chasm of pleasure.

Watching you spasm around the knot took Hoseok's breath away. He'd never imagined or wondered what that might be like, but he thought it was beautiful. He wanted to give you orgasm after orgasm just to see your pussy take it again and again. Your legs wanted to close, and he let them. You curled into Yoongi, taking gasping breaths as he held you tightly to his chest and whispered soft praises. Jimin stroked his hand down your side and up again.

By the time Hoseok had cleaned you up with a warm, wet cloth, you were falling asleep in Yoongi's arms once again, the plug still tucked safely away inside of you and a satisfied smile on your lips.

"I'll go get dinner ready. I'm guessing we're all pretty much starving," Hobi said softly, gathering a few things to take out with him to tidy up the place.

As he opened the door, Yoongi transfered you into Jimin's arms. Luckily, you didn't wake, and Yoongi followed the other omega into the hall. Hoseok was just entering your bathroom when Yoongi went in with him.

"What's wrong, Yoongi?" He asked, looking at him with startled eyes. The alpha was disheveled and his eyes were still dark with lust, something Hobi found irresistible.

"Nothing,"Yoongi breathed heavily. "I just wanted to say thank you. You didn't have to help, but you did, so thanks."

Hoseok smirked. "I didn't do it for you, alpha."

"I know. But I wouldn't have been able to get through it without you."

Hoseok's eyes grew darker, his smile more mocking. "Did you get through it, alpha? Looks like you're still pretty worked up to me." He trailed his fingers down Yoongi's chest.

Yoongi's breath turned ragged as Hoseok stepped closer. "Can you blame me?"

"No. It was certainly eye opening," the omega purred. He gripped the front of Yoongi's shirt and pulled him closer. Their lips crashed as he shut the bathroom door.

Yoongi's hands went to the other man's hair as he was pushed against the door. Hobi's teeth nipped the white flesh of yoongi's neck as he palmed fervently at his thick knot, trapped uncomfortably in the confines of his gray sweatpants.

"It's cruel, you know, to flaunt a knot like that in front of an omega."

"I don't need to flaunt anything to drive you crazy, do I, Hobi?"

"You think I'm worked up because of you?" He chuckled and pulled Yoongi's cock free. "Think again, buddy."

"Are you into my omega?" Yoongi smiled against his lips. Nimble fingers pulled a sigh from him.

"I've certainly been into her more than you have."

Yoongi threw his head back with a short laugh. "Trying to make me jealous?"

"Would that get you to shut the hell up and fuck me?"

Yoongi turned the omega around and pinned him to the wall. "That's what you want, omega? Should make you beg for my knot, huh?"

"I'm not opposed. Poor little thing doesn't know what she's missing, though," he smiled as Yoongi shoved down both their pants. "She's so small and tight, alpha. That plug isn't nearly as big as you. Wonder if she can take it."

"Maybe you can show her how to take it next time," Yoongi growled as his fingers found Hoseok's hole. "Fuck, you're wet."

"Not as wet as she was. The sweet little cunt on your omega. Never seen anything like it." A wordless growl echoed off the walls of the bathroom, answered by Hoseok's high pitched moans as Yoongi's fingers found the right spot. "Fuck! Enough. Want your knot alpha. Give me everything you can't give her."

"Don't want to hurt you," Yoongi said, voice gravelly.

"You won't. I know I can take you. Need you, alpha."

Yoongi didn't waste a moment. He pulled Hoseok's hips out, forcing his chest down, so he could align himself at his wet, pink entrance. Once he entered him, he plunged into Hobi's depths with ease. The omega braced himself against the wall as his alpha set a brutal pace. His cries of pleasure were not quiet, but only you and Jimin were there to hear, and you were dead to the world.

"Fuck, yes. Have to teach her to take you like this. Would you like that, alpha? Want me to teach her everything I know?"

"Ah," Yoongi groaned as Hobi clenched around him, his slick making a mess of them both and dripping down his legs. "Don't think she'd ever learn to talk like you. You've got a whore's mouth, you know that?"

"You love it."

"I do. Now shut the fuck up so I can come. I'm fucking close, baby."

Hoseok stayed stone still while Yoongi pounded into him, burying himself to the hilt when his knot began to inflate and he came with tired breaths.

"Are you okay, baby?" Yoongi asked, stroking down his omegas back as he waited. These moments when he connected to his mates were always the most clear, filled with tenderness and love, no matter what words or deeds had brought them there.

"Feel perfect, Yoon. You always make me feel so good. Missed you."

"I'm sorry. I know I've been distracted lately." He pressed a soft kiss to Hobi's spine as an apology.

Hobi shook his head as he leaned heavily against the wall. "Didn't say it to make you feel sorry. It's been a while since we had a moment like that. Like that I can be free with you. Makes things so fun."

"We do tend to have fun," Yoongi agreed. "Come here," he said softly when his knot had deflated. He brought Hoseok to the edge of the bathtub and began to fill it with warm water. Then he helped him in and got in behind him, letting the omega lay his back against his chest.

"You don't have to stay here with me. I know you're probably anxious to get back to her," Hobi told him after they'd been sitting in the water for a few minutes.

"I am, but I'm not anxious to leave you. The truth is, I've missed you too. I know things never quite went back to usual and now, things will never be the way they were. I feel a little…guilty." Yoongi cupped water in his hand and let it wash down his lover's chest.

"Don't. It's true, she'll change everything. But everything wasn't so good. Maybe it was a change we needed. I believe it will be for the best, in the end."

Yoongi hummed. "I also feel guilty because I won't be there for your heat."

"I know," Hobi answered, dragging his fingers up the legs that encircled him. "It's not a big deal. I have everyone else. It's not a big thing to me anymore. You need to focus on her."

"I love you, you know that?"

"I do. And I love you too."

After quickly washing, the pair left the tub, lingering a bit longer over each other's bodies as they dried off before they fetched new pajamas.

"Go on and be with her," Hoseok told him at the top of the stairs. "I'm gonna go put together something to eat, and I'll be there soon."

Yoongi slipped back into your room, quickly meeting the eyes of a very smug looking Jimin.

"What?"

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Jimin asked as he petted down your arm.

Yoongi scoffed. "Did you? Why are you both shirtless? Is she still asleep?"

You moaned and turned a fraction toward his voice as he climbed back into the nest.

"She took her shirt off herself and it seemed rude not to join her. She gave me a couple hickies, too, so now we really match. Isn't that right, sweet thing?" Jimin asked with a light pinch to your side.

You giggled softly. "Mini nice."

"What did you do to her?" Yoongi asked with a smile as you turned to him with a bright, if dazed, one of your own.

"Nothing. It's just the hormones. She seems to be enjoying all the touching."

You managed to move onto your knees, tottering a bit when the plug moved, but you kept it from slipping out. "No," you said with a cute but firm pout as you tugged at the hem of Yoongi's shirt.

"You want my shirt off, too, princess?" Yoongi asked innocently. You nodded and continued to pull. "That's no problem." He tugged the garment over his head and threw it onto the chest where your extra blankets were stored. Then he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you against him. "Better?"

You nodded and maneuvered yourself into his lap, pushing him into a reclining position with you on his chest.

"My alpha," you whispered after you rested your cheek against his shoulder. Yoongi's heart stuttered, feeling at once the weight and the joy of the trust you placed in him.

Fool. You let them make you feel safe. But they're just preparing you to breed. They'll need to know if you can handle it. Why else would Hobi be there? He needs a baby, and he's going to get it from you.

You had awoken to a dark room. Your packmates slept beside you. Only a few hours ago had they decided they were ready to sleep and helped you get cleaned and ready for a good night's sleep. You'd kept the plug in for hours until you felt truly sated. But already you were feeling the emptiness ache at you. Your voices had no problem filling the void.

Would that be the worst thing? I need it. Need alpha.

And when you fail? Will he still be your good alpha then? Or worse, what if you die this time?

"Stop it. Shut up!" You called out without thinking.

Yoongi, who had turned on his side away from you, flipped over in an instant. "What's wrong? What happened?"

To his horror, you pulled away, just like you did your first time with them, until you collided with Jimin on your other side. "What do you want?"

Yoongi's voice softened in the darkness, although you couldn't see more than a shadowy figure. "Nothing, princess. Just want to make sure you're okay. Did you have a nightmare?"

"No."

A light clicked on behind you. Yoongi's features were soft but full of worry. He held his hands open to show you he wasn't a threat. But the dissonance of the danger your mind wanted you to fear and the gentle man in front of you made your head buzz. You struggled to make sense of what was real and what was your imagination. Was it possible that Yoongi was truly a good man who kept his promises and wouldn't hurt you? Or were your voices correct, warning you that his behavior was all to lure you into security so he could do what he wanted with you? Sometimes, your own brain could be your biggest enemy, but there was no denying that it often tried to keep you out of danger as well.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, followed by soft lips on your warm back. You jerked away, scrambling backward and almost over the edge of the bed. Yoongi caught onto the only part of you he could reach, your leg, to keep you from falling. In the light, he could see that your eyes were the clearest they had been all day, and yet they were full of fear. Fear of them. He let go of you immediately.

"Baby, everything is okay. You're safe. You're at home with us," he tried to ground you with his voice, afraid that touching you would make things worse.

He could do it now. He'll push you down into the mattress and make you submit. And then he'll–

Yoongi watched you close your eyes as you tried to shut out the voices. He gotten better at recognizing when they filled your mind and confused you with paranoid thoughts.

"Princess, listen to my voice." You opened your eyes to peer at him, and your gaze was heartbreaking. "I'm here, not them. They're only in your head. Tell me what they're saying."

Your lips trembled as you hesitated. It was the same thing he had heard a dozen times. The same thing you thought about every day. You didn't want to tell him again, but his words were a command, and you couldn't resist giving him an answer.

"You're–" Your voice cracked from so much disuse and you cleared it to begin again. "You're making me f-feel safe but really y-you're preparing to breed me again."

Yoongi frowned but tried to squash his disappointment. He wanted nothing more than for you to trust him. He thought he'd done everything to prove he was worth it. But he should have known trauma wasn't so easy to erase. After all, it was the family that raised for sixteen years that first taught you to be wary of security. He took a steadying breath and looked you in the eye.

"I made you a promise, Y/N. It was my first promise and I won't break it. Have I given you any reason to think I would?" You shook your head without hesitation. "Do you trust me?"

You wanted to. You were almost certain you did. You nodded your head.

"Good. You can trust me. I know that these voices have tried to keep you safe in the past, based on your experiences. But this is not your past. It won't be the same, and if you trust me, you need to believe that."

You thought about his words for a moment, and they felt right. The past few weeks were like nothing you had experienced ever in your life. There had been so much safety, and honesty, and affection that it looked like something out of a fantasy. And maybe that's what made it so hard to believe in, but you knew that it was real. Yoongi was real, while the malicious whispers in your head were only that. They were less than air.

Suddenly, you crawled forward, straight into Yoongi's chest. You felt his arms wrap around you immediately and began to weep.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I got confused. Don't be mad," you cried into the shelter of his body.

He shushed you as he held you tight, rubbing circles on your lower back with a firm hand. "It's okay, princess. I told you that I would always tell you what's real. What you feel now, my arms around you. This is real. Out here is real. Everything is okay."

Yoongi let you cry yourself out on his chest, unbothered by his damp shirt. Jimin cuddled close, too, wrapping an extra arm around your trembling figure to shield you from any more worry, if only for tonight.

A/n: Wow. It's been like, over a year since I wrote any smut, and I've been very anxious about it. I would love to hear any small thing you liked about any of this chapter. I think Hobi was the shining star of her heat, tbh. I love him an indescribable about.

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months

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Daily Ficlet 4

I'm challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today's prompt is jukebox.

Steve's oh moment comes to him at The Hideout of all places. Dingy, dirty, with a bartender who served Will Byers a drink without so much as pretending to contemplate if he should or not.

The point Steve is making is he's just realized he might be a lot in love with Eddie and that it's not exactly the most romantic of settings. They're all here because they came to watch Corroded Coffins first gig since before... well, since Before.

Before Vecna. Before spring break. Before Steve was even aware of his attraction to guys.

A lot of Before that led them to this now. This oh.

It wasn't watching Eddie in his element, up on the stage. Seeing that for the first time was actually a Before thing, too. Steve's been to The Hideout before. The same bartender served Steve a beer back when he was a sophomore and Tommy H had heard the rumor that they didn't card here. The first time he'd watched Eddie Munson in his element had been shortly after his graduation, coming here to pretend he wasn't as alone as he felt as he drank a beer or two.

Watching Eddie on the stage knowing he has a crush on him certainly made the show better but didn't push him from crush to in love.

It also wasn't after, watching Eddie and Robin have a silent conversation of only gestures and eyebrows and pointed looks, though it did make Steve rush with adoration for them both. Knowing that Eddie and Robin got a long so well, cared to each other, made something settle inside Steve's bones. Steve hasn't been serious with anyone since Starcourt, and he's aware enough to know it's because he can't explain his codependency to Robin to anyone. Not with the truth, or in a way they're understand. He wouldn't need to do that with Eddie.

It wasn't that Eddie had then come checked on him, either. Asking if the place was too loud, and how Steve's head was doing. Steve had just recovered from a migraine and Eddie was worried about this bringing it back. It hadn't. The ear plugs were great. And Eddie beamed at him.

No. None of those were the oh, though they were all reason enough.

No, the oh was this.

Watching Eddie 'metalhead' Munson teach Will, El, Dustin, Lucas and Erica how to square dance. He'd tried to coax Mike onto the floor but that wasn't happening, and Max couldn't with her crutches still, but she'd promised to learn from Lucas once she was on the mend.

Eddie had pilfered most of Steve's quarters and slid them into the jukebox, picking the same country song 5 times in a row for the kids to practice to. "Just to wait, Stevie. These kids'll be winning square dancing trophies when I'm done."

Steve had laughed, sipping on his beer as Eddie danced his way to the jukebox.

And here, on the fifth song, watching Eddie improvise some swing dancing into their established routine with Erica being easily twirled about, trying to glare at Eddie for picking her but also doing nothing to stop him from throwing her around the dance floor, Steve thinks oh.

Oh. I love him.

He stands and heads to the jukebox, and queues up the same song once more, then turns to the group. "Alright Munson, teach me, too!"

Dustin whoops, Erica slips back into her place in line, and Eddie beams at him, hand outstretched and waiting.

#my fic #daily ficlet #steddie #eddie can square dance #wayne taught him

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sylveon-and-velveon · 3 months

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Playing "4 Big Guys" around the slashers

Shitpost idea has been made, so here XD

This will include: Michael Myers {OG & RZ}, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Tiffany Valentine

Feel free to request any shitpost writing prompt ideas you can think of in my asks, I love silly non-serious ideas XD

Given the music is VERY adult related, this is 18+ ONLY

OG Michael Myers

Ain't gonna lie, the second you play that song he's probably staring at you instantly. Anger? Disappointment? Cursing your entire family and possible future children? Who knows! It's Michael-Fucking-Myers baby!!!

He's not used to anything sexual overall so hearing a song openly sing about gay sex, and in such a detailed way, would worry him. Not for the singer, no- more on your taste in music.

And don't even get me started on when he hears about shit being involved. The second he hears that being mentioned he's turning off the music entirely, patting your head, and dragging you away so you'll listen to something he likes instead to cleanse that weird mind of yours. Like... Kate Bush or something.

He'd like Kate Bush right? He looks like a Kate Bush enjoyer.

RZ Michael Myers

Judging you, hard. Though he ain't saying it. His aura is practically smellable he's judging you so hard.

Does he like it? No. It's loud, obnoxious, and profound filled. Ignoring the obvious "gay sex and other weirdness" part, the volume of the music reminds him of his childhood.

He's smashing the device the music is coming from. He doesn't care if it's your MP3 all the way to a damn TV or Alexa, he's smashing that shit to pieces if it means he doesn't need to hear it anymore.

What would he put on instead? Calming ambient noises that play for hours on end on YouTube. It's the exact opposite of whatever hellscape you just played. It's better.

Brahms Heelshire

Well first of all it ain't classical, so that's a point on the "I Hate This" list.

Second it's not a piano.

Third it's literally "4 Big Guys"-

Not only is this poor man confused about everything the singer is saying, I highly doubt his parents explained LGBTQ+ to him, he's also hating how loud it is.

"Who puts things up their ass?" - Brahms Heelshire 2024

You turn off the music yourself when he practically begs you to.

You're probably tryna hold in your laughter while he's sitting on the floor trying to figure out what the fuck he just heard.

Jason Voorhees

Is there a bigger word for "traumatized"? Because that man earns it.

You're lucky af, if his mom was live she'd hit you with a crowbar so fast- Not kill you tho, she wouldn't dare hurt her boy.

But yeah, he's not saying anything, nor moving. Bro's too traumatized. LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE-

You better give him his teddy he fucking deserves it TmT

Laughing his ass off until the shit is mentioned, even this horny gremlin has his limits.

Can you tell I hate shit kinks? XD

He'd want an apology for you blasting that song so far to that section. But no music! He hates Christmas songs, they're so repetitive and they all sound the same anyway.

Bake him a cake, the more unique the better. His favourite so far is red velvet with cream cheese frosting!

Then when he's finished eating you're getting railed by him not longer after, man's not changed. Not now, not ever.

Freddy Krueger

You can play this entire song with this man on REPEAT and he'd be fine with it.

I'd be surprised if he didn't given his track record and.... slicing open his skin to reveal green "blood" and maggots crawling out.

Would he laugh the first time? ABSOLUTELY!

Would he jokingly sing along, probably.

But he would TOTALLY play this song when going after his victims sometimes. Imagine dying and the last thing you hear is:

"4 BIG GUYS AND THEY GRAB ON MY THIGHS-"

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis

Billy is concerned for your wellbeing. Especially when you start singing it at full force with Stu joining in not long after.

Yeah Stu is enjoying this to the max!

Finds it hilarious, who the fuck wouldn't when you've got humour more broken than Brahms' doll-

But seeing you enjoying yourself to this.... absurdity, at least makes Billy calm down from worry. Now he's just concerned your taste in music may infiltrate your taste in movies.

I doubt the man's used to hearing music.... imagine this being his first time hearing it-

OMG he'd probably think this is normal for music.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??? XD

If it's not his first time hearing music though? No concern, laughter, nothing. He's neutral, given that this is something that makes you a little chaotic gremlin.

He's happy seeing you comfortable enough around to be a "gremlin" as you call it.

Bubba Sawyer

Don't traumatize him more than he's been already!!

Sure he doesn't realise it, or the fact he's used to it, but the poor guy's already traumatized-

Though he's probably more confused in the whole scheme of things. I mean, he knows what sex is. But just the surface of it.

So he's probably just learnt way too much in such a short period of time.

Oh lord what have you done-

Harry Warden

Okay first of all, why is there no GIF of this man? WTF????

Second; man's from the mines, man's old fashioned, you've probably just thrown way too much modern shit in his face way too quickly that he's just staring at you, the music video, and then the floor.

Poor miner is so confused, especially when the "cum starts spraying".

Oh god he'll probably think it's like dust from the mines spraying everywhere.

Fucking hell that's a vision-

Tiffany Valentine

Finds it amusing? Yes.

Judging? Not as much as you'd expect.

Girl's been through a wild ride, hearing you blast out "4 Big Guys" from your phone wouldn't be the most shocking thing in the world.

Hell. she'd probably encourage you to start singing along to it XD

Oh she's gonna use that song to torture someone with it. She doesn't know how yet, but she's got the idea in her head now

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roguerogerss · 8 months

Text

Wanted To Have You

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

W/C: 3.7k (i think i didn’t check tbf)

Warnings: mention of smut (no actual smut though), swearing, arguing

(welcome back babes, missed you. tommy has been on my mind all the time recently so i decided i’d bang something out and post it. it’s basically just word vomit tbh but hope u enjoy. LOVE a lil bit of angst when it comes to peaky blinders and hope u do too!! luv u the most b back soon)

***

Birds chirped, the sounds of the market opening began, golden sunlight poured in through the window. The morning had come too early, but Tommy was always a sight to see in the morning.

Laid on his back, one arm curled loosely around her waist, the other on his chest, right above a bullet scar that Y/N had helped Polly to stitch up in early January. His lips were parted slightly, chest rising and falling, dark lashes settled on ruddy cheeks.

She smiled and traced the tattoo on his chest ever so lightly with the tip of her painted fingernails, her way of quietly waking him up. It always worked, and today was no exception. He sighed as he stirred, a small smile making it's way onto his face.

"G'mornin', love." How she loved the way that his voice sounded in the morning. Heavy with the day before's cigarettes, low and gravelly, Brum accented. "Sleep okay?"

"Slept great." She was so tired from the night before's antics that she couldn't have stayed awake another second after they'd collapsed onto the mattress and he'd pulled her close underneath the sheets. "Did you?"

Tommy hummed, "Mm, slept alright. Wasn't great, thinkin' a lot."

"Thinkin' about what?" Her fingers absentmindedly wandered from his tattoo to the back of his neck, tugging at the short hairs that gathered there.

"Business stuff, darlin'. Nothin' for you to worry your pretty little head about." He gave a soft, bleary-eyed smile and pressed a hand to her cheek, thumb stroking back and forth.

"Tommy, you always say it's just 'business stuff'. Why won't you just tell me what's going on for once?" She wasn't angry, really, but the pout on her face might've said otherwise. Business stuff was the closest that she ever got to knowing anything about Tommy's personal life.

But rumours fly, and she'd heard a lot from the people of the town that made her think that her Thomas wasn't as innocent as she thought he might be.

"I've told you. It's not important, nothing you'd want to hear." His voice strained as he stretched, biceps flexing as he raised his arms above his head. "Would bore ya, honest."

"You don't bore me, Tom." She looked up at him through her lashes and he gave a short-lived chuckle and ran his fingers soothingly through her hair.

"I have to get up." He ignored her statement and gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head, before rolling over and sitting up. He was still only wearing his underwear, and so she marvelled at the way that the muscles in his back flexed as he moved to grab his previously ironed button-down shirt from the side table.

She almost forgot that she was angry as he got up and pulled his slacks on, shirt still unbuttoned and the light hitting his toned torso just right. "I'll see you later, sweetheart." Tommy leaned down to place a kiss on his girl's lips, barely taking a second to enjoy the feeling but really only doing it so that he could continue to taste her on his lips for the next hour or so.

"Family meeting?" It was obvious that Y/N was unimpressed, but Tommy either didn't notice or was pretending that he hadn't, because he didn't comment and simply nodded. "And I can't come?”

"Told ya." Tommy tucked his shirt into his slacks and knotted his tie, eyeing Y/N all the while. "Would bore you."

He wanted to tell her about what he did. He really, really did. But he also wanted to keep her, and he knew that he couldn't do both. There was no way that she'd want to stay with him if she knew about all of the terrible things that he'd done, and so he'd made everyone who worked with him agree that she was never to know.

He supposed that she'd get suspicious at some point, but he hadn't expected that point to come so soon. It had been a year, and he figured that the towns people spoke and that she heard, but he was dreading having to actually let her know by himself.

"And I've told you," Y/N had gotten up, pulling her silk robe around her small body and padding lightly across the floor to where Tommy stood. She fixed out his jacket and smoothed down his shirt affectionately. "You don't bore me."

"We can talk later." Tommy smiled softly, hand smoothing Y/N's hair against her head as he pressed his lips to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. She made him linger for a second, hands grabbing at the back of his neck and holding him in place as their lips moved together.

Tommy chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. "I have to go.

"Fine." She pecked his lips once again and then let him go. "Go about your business, Mr Shelby."

"As I will, Miss Y/L/N." He smiled and then he was gone, unlocking the bedroom door and slipping out of the room.

Y/N was furious. That was really the only word that she could think of to describe the sheer anger that bubbled inside of her. Thomas Shelby is a Peaky Blinder.

And she knew that the statement from the woman at the market wasn't a lie. What other reason would he have to hide everything from her? To never tell her about his life or where he'd been or why he would often come to bed at ungodly hours?

She stormed into their shared home and, upon seeing him sat at the kitchen table, cigarette in hand, decided that she couldn't deal with him. And so she threw him a look and then took off up the stairs to their bedroom.

Tommy followed, of course he did, yelling her name and asking what was going on. But she ignored him, simply sitting down on the bed and waiting for him to join her.

"What's wrong, love? Did someone do something? I swear, I'll-"

"You'll what, Tommy?" She stood then, still keeping her distance but crossing the room only slightly. "Cut them? Kill them?"

"What the hell is this about?" Tommy sighed. He seemed bored already, unprepared to listen to her ramble because, oh, Thomas Shelby knew that his girlfriend could ramble for hours.

"Let me see your hat." She knew what the Peaky Blinders were, she knew fair well what the name meant, and she needed to confirm what the townsfolk had told her. "Where is it? Show me it!" She started searching for the hat, opening drawers and cabinets, she knew that she had to find it, because she had to know.

"Y/N, calm down, for God's sake." Tommy clasped a hand around her forearm, but she yanked it away and simply stared up at him, tears threatening to fall from her already glassy eyes.

"Are you one of them?" Her voice was almost a whisper, so quiet and timid that maybe Thomas wouldn't have heard her if they weren't almost chest to chest. "Are you a Peaky Blinder, Tommy?"

And now she was really crying, tears smudging the makeup on her cheeks and clouding her vision as Tommy's piercing blue eyes stared down at her. He was thinking, thinking about whether it was best to tell the truth or to leave, and thinking about what the consequences of each would be.

What would she do if he told her? Would she yell? Hate him? Would she leave? And what if he left? Would she let him back in?

But she looked so vulnerable, was crying so hard because she already knew the answer. And Tommy wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her head and wipe the tears from her eyes. But it was his fault that she was crying, he'd caused the tears and the hurt. And he had to tell her.

"Yes." Her heart felt like it might've stopped. Because Tommy was the only person that she trusted, and now she felt like she knew nothing about him.

The room fell silent, she stared at him and waited for words to come, and she waited, and waited. Thomas wouldn't break eye contact with her. In truth, because he was scared that, if he did, he'd never look into her eyes again, she'd leave and she wouldn't come back, she'd go back to Ireland, back where people told her things because that was the right thing to do, because they weren't afraid of what the Peaky Blinders might do to them.

She decided, after a few beats of standing still, staring at him, heavy breaths coming from both of them, that she couldn't look at him anymore. She'd been waiting for him to say something, anything, that would mean that this had all been some sort of sick joke. He'd start laughing, tell her he was kidding, that the woman at the market had told her that just to see how she would react. She'd be angry, yes, but it'd only be short lived, and it wouldn't change anything.

But he didn't, and he wouldn't, because she already knew there was no hint of a lie in what she'd been told. She took a last, deep breath, and then departed to the other side of the room, where she turned her back to Thomas and took a few more deep breaths.

"Listen, love, I...I wanted to tell you-"

"Don't, Thomas."

"I really did. I wanted to. But I knew you'd react like this-"

"And so you thought that keeping it from me was right? You thought that holding the threat of the Peaky Blinders over the entire town's head to keep them quiet, was the right thing to do? You thought I'd be happy when I eventually found out?" Thomas found himself falling silent, speechless. He was never speechless.

"I was hoping to tell you myself."

"Well, you missed the opportunity to do that two years ago, Thomas." She'd picked up her handbag now, and Thomas noticed that tears had pricked his eyes and were threatening to fall. "To think I worked for you, as your secretary. I signed off your fucking books, I made phone calls for you, you involved me in this without even telling me, you didn't even ask me if that was what I wanted, Thomas."

"I know, and I'm sorry-"

"Pack your things."

"Love-"

"Pack your things, Thomas. And don't you ever call me anything other than my name."

And with that, she'd gone. To where, Thomas wasn't sure, but he found himself watching her, almost in slow motion, as she stormed through their bedroom door. He could hear her heels clicking as she hurried down the stairs, the brief pause as she pulled her coat - the one he'd bought her for their anniversary - around her body, and then the click open and slam shut of the front door.

He lowered himself onto the bed, placed his head in his hands, and sat for a few minutes in silence. The window was open, and so the sounds of the bustling street below floated upstairs, and he tried not to listen. The thought that she was out there, inconsolably upset, with every intention of leaving him, because of a mistake he'd made off his own back seemed entirely too much to handle.

So he closed the window, lay back on the bed, and lit the end of a cigarette. He needed to figure out a way to make things right by her, after all, Thomas Shelby didn't care about opinions, but what she thought of him was the most important thing in the world.

She'd gone to the Shelby's family home, mostly to try to seek comfort from either Ada or Polly, but also to berate the brothers for not thinking to tell her their secret.

She burst through the front door, to find Polly and Ada at the dining table, each smoking a cigarette. They jumped up when they saw her, womanly instinct coming into full effect, knowing that something must've been wrong from the way she'd stormed in, and the look on her face when she had.

"What's he done, my love?" Polly was always best at being able to tell when Thomas had messed up, and she was always on the right track when it came to guessing what he'd done wrong. His aunt knew him better than anyone, as much as he'd hate to admit it.

"Did you know?" She was breathing heavily, trying not to let the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes slide down her cheeks.

"Know what, love?" Ada had come to Y/N's side now, guiding her to sit down at the kitchen table, and had shooed the men away, into the drawing room, after Arthur had come mooching for a bottle of rum.

"Did you know what he was doing?" Her eyes were full of tears now, making it hard for her to see properly. She placed her elbows on the table and used the sides of her palms to wipe the tears as they fell. Polly pulled her chair over so that she was sat close to Y/N.

"Calm down, sweetheart." Polly placed a tentative hand on her arm, "What has he done?" His aunt could feel her heart drop in her chest, from the way that Y/N was speaking, she was almost certain that her nephew had cheated on his girlfriend.

"Did you know he was a Peaky Blinder? Is that what they're doing through there?" Y/N was really crying now, looking that horrible, vulnerable way that Tommy hated. Arthur had opened the door a crack, and he, John, and Finn were peeking out at the women sat in the kitchen.

Ada sighed and ran a hand over her face, and Polly seemed to erupt into anger, "We bloody told him, didn't we Ada? We told him you'd find out, but he listened to these bloody idiots," She jabbed a finger at the doors to the drawing room, which made Arthur crack up like a child, provoking Polly to pick up a teaspoon from the table and throw it at his face. "The women in this house are apparently the only ones with any sense in them."

"Why wouldn't he tell me, Polls?"

Polly took a long pause before answering. Thomas's reasonings had never been clear, behind any of his madness, and, even while having known him his entire life, she often wondered what the method behind the goings-on in his life was. "Listen, love, you know he loves you, yes?"

Y/N nodded slowly, a puzzled expression crossing her face. "Then you know how he protects the people he loves. Yes, he does all of this bad work, but he doesn't want you to know because he's scared something will happen to you if you know too much. And he doesn't want you to see him as this monster, Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders. Sometimes, he just wants to be Tommy. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Polly, as always when she assumed anything about Tommy, was right. He'd liked Y/N from the moment he'd hired her to work as his secretary, but he knew she wasn't the type to turn a blind eye to his work. He supposed it was selfish, not telling her, but he wanted her to know him for who he was, not what he did.

She let out a sigh, partly letting go of all of the anger she'd built up towards Tommy, and partly because she was relieved to hear what his aunt had to say about it. "I know what you're saying, Pol."

A long pause followed, with only the bustle of the drawing room keeping the place from being in dead silence. Polly's hand was still resting on Y/N's arm, and Ada's on her back, and she found herself able to forgive. The Shelby women certainly had their ways.

"What do you want to do, love?" Polly broke the silence that had settled on the room.

"I don't know." Y/N couldn’t even think of anything else that she could say, she truly didn’t know what she wanted. Polly’s face contorted slightly, and Ada rubbed her hand up and down over Y/N’s back.

"Well, are you going to tell him it's over?" Ada asked, voice quiet, so as not to alert the men in the other room that anything too serious was being spoken about. She thought for a moment, feeling a pang of sadness come over her at the fact that she had to even think about whether or not she wanted to end things with Tommy.

"No. No, I'm not going to do that."

Polly breathed out, a breath that she didn’t even know she’d been holding, and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her in and squeezing her in a way reminiscent of a mother holding her daughter.

"Okay. Okay, good. He does love you, so much, you know that?” It was a rhetorical question, and Polly didn’t leave enough time for Y/N to even answer. “Do you want to go home? Or will Ada boil the kettle and we can have a brew?"

"A brew would be nice."

The air was almost cold when she left the Shelby house to start the walk home. Summer was coming to an end now, but the sky was still bright past nine. She'd begun noticing things that she hadn't before, after finding out Thomas's secret. People would greet her profusely as she walked down the street, some even going out of their ways to let her past. They'd hold their children back from walking in front of her, the men working at the furnace would shield her from any soot that might come her way.

It felt strange, like Thomas was king of Small Heath and she was his Queen, and god forbid anyone see what might happen if they disrespect the Queen. She made an effort of smiling and thanking these people, showing that she didn't actually need them to be doing these things for her, but they did them regardless.

When she reached the front door of the house she shared with Thomas, she stood for a moment, simply staring at the front door. The mark was still there from the nail Thomas had banged into it months ago now, so that she could hang a holly wreath there to celebrate Christmas. He'd called it unnecessary, but they'd only just moved in together and she'd been so excited for their first Christmas in their new home, she'd come home from work one day to find the largest wreath Thomas could find at the market, hanging on their front door.

She smiled to herself, suddenly feeling emotional with all of the memories of their time together coming flooding back. She opened the door.

She was pleased to find that, when she got home, Thomas's hat and coat were still hanging on the coat stand at the front door. His pocket watch on the mantelpiece, shoes still placed neatly at the door. He hadn't gone anywhere yet.

"Thomas?" She called, and was met with the sound of soft footsteps in the bedroom.

"Upstairs." His voice was quiet, small, something that hurt her to hear. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him truly upset, even after two whole years.

She placed her handbag on the floor and draped her coat over the coat stand, then crossed the hallway and climbed the stairs to their bedroom, where Tommy was sat on the bed, head in his hands, suitcase at his feet. She felt a piece of her heart chip away upon seeing him.

"I'll be gone soon enough, I just-I didn't want to believe that-"

"Do you want to leave, Tom?" She took a few steps towards him, and Tommy lifted his head to look at her for the first time. His eyes were red, and she knew that Tommy Shelby strictly did not cry, except when it came to her.

A pause followed, Tommy simply staring up at her, opening and closing his mouth every now and again, thinking of the right thing to say. Was there a right thing to say?

"You know I'm not really religious. But I've been praying all day that you'd come home and we'd be fine again." A small, sad looking smile had settled on his face.

"Maybe you should start going to church, then." She placed her house keys down on the bedside table, she was here to stay. Tommy felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as she gave him a small smile and held her arms out to him, letting him back in, “Come here."

He didn’t hesitate, pulling her into his lap and wrapping himself tightly around her. Please don’t leave again, he was saying, eyes closed and cheek pressed to her stomach. Her arms settled around his neck, one hand drawing comforting patterns on his shoulder and the other smoothing his hair.

"I wasn't doing it to upset you." He needed an explanation for her, he owed her that, especially after she’d come back when he wouldn’t have blamed her for walking out of the door and never having a thought of him again.

"I know you weren't." He hated how forgiving she was. He hated that he’d done wrong, and, instead of just leaving like she deserved to, she’d come back and was comforting him, making him feel good about the lies he’d fed her. But he knew her all too well, he knew deep down she’d have forgiven him, because she wasn’t one to deal with things in any way other than graciously.

"No, sweetheart, I know I've been selfish. I know I’m not fair to you. But I'm only selfish because it's you." His hands roamed her back, underneath her dress, feeling every dip and scar, memorising them again, “I just wanted to have you, loved you since the minute I met you, I swear. Couldn't have you thinking of me as this cold, relentless monster. I just remember thinking you were too pure to know, thought I’d only ruin that if I got too close and you knew the truth.”

“I know you better than you know yourself, Tommy. You’ve got a heart in there, you know.” She gave him a small smile while he looked up at her, bright eyes piercing through dark eyelashes, “I don’t understand why you did all of this for me, you could’ve chosen another woman, one who you could’ve even helped you with your work all this time, but you chose someone who you felt like you had to hide everything from.”

“Told you already, I just wanted to have you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then one to your nose, and then your lips. “You, not anyone else, not a woman who’d do my work for me, not someone easy, I wanted to have you. And you know I’m selfish with things that I want.”

You were really smiling now. Tommy always knew the right things to say, always knew how to make you happy. You wrapped your arms around him again, and, while Tommy didn’t like to admit it, he felt safe with you, something that he didn’t feel in many places.

“Thomas Shelby, you’ll always have me.”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders x reader

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beansmack2021 · 2 months

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Can I request yandere 🦌 Alastor 🦌 x reader where its like phantom of the opera or phantom of the radio? Alastor sometimes haunts his old radio station in his free time and falls in love with the intern reader and her voice and she mostly just gets everyone's coffee but he wants to hear her voice on the radio so he uses his "skills" to push her up the ranks from weather girl to co-host then after a while of being co-host she gets real popular and the radio host starts to flirt with her so Alastor drags her to hell to be his personal co-host and at first the reader is scared and confused but later accepts it and likes him?

The Point of No Return

Amazing request! I love the idea behind this and hope I did it justice.

TW: Mentions of murder, creepy man, Alastor being scary

He wasn't sure when he started coming back to his old radio tower. He wasn't sure when he started slinking into the shadows and making his way up from hell to observe the living. He knew why he kept coming back though.

She was beautiful. She had shiny (h/c) hair, big (e/c) eyes, and freckles that dotted her face the way the stars dotted the sky. Everything about her was beautiful. Everything about her was gentle. She walked on the balls of her feet. She barely made a peep when she entered a room. She also went unacknowledged, but boy, were Alastor's eyes on her.

The first time he heard her speak, his dead heart stopped again. Her voice was soft, floaty. He never wanted her to stop speaking. He would've listened to her for hours, but unfortunately, she isn't the one broadcasting her sweet sound to the world.

Some cranky old man had taken over as New Orleans most prominent radio host. He ordered her around a lot. She was sent on coffee runs. She took notes, and she'd try to pitch her ideas, but often went unheard. If he were still alive, if the station was still his, he'd let her take over for him any time she so wished. She wouldn't be a mere intern, she'd be his cohost. They'd be partners. Alastor's face grew even redder.

Her voice was just too calming, too smooth. She needed to move up in the world. He could help her. She may not know him, but he knew her. He knew that she deserved a much higher position than the one she had. He could take care of that for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N wasn't expecting to get called into the station so early. She wasn't expecting her boss's panicked frenzy as he told her that her coworker, Dave, was found dead in his car that morning and that she needed to come in and take over his position for an indefinite amount of time.

She scurried into the office, a cup of coffee in her hand, plopped down at her new desk, and was immediately set to working on sorting through different stories that her station's host could report to the public.

They all seemed to be about the same thing. Copycat killers, all of whom followed in the footsteps of the Killer of the Bayou, sprouted up everywhere. He'd been dead for nearly 20 years. His name was Alastor, but other than that, the only thing she knew about him was that his story gave her the creeps.

She briefly wondered if one of the copycats killed Dave. Suddenly chilled to the bone, Y/N noticed the sun moved to hide behind the clouds for a moment before the station got brighter once more.

The police hadn't done an autopsy yet. Anything could have happened to Dave. She'd probably pick out the report for it that their radio host would read during the morning and afternoon news.

She was right. Just days later, she had to find the least gruesome report, and hesitated as she handed it over to Henry, their radio host. Dave was murdered, there was no question of that. He'd been strangled, but there were no finger prints, no rope fibers, no shoe prints in the mud by his car. It was like the killer ghosted through his murder without a trace.

She shivered. Was it cold in the station?

"Thanks, doll."

He sniffed once, wiping his snot with the back of his hand. She grimaced, tried to cover it with a smile, and politely nodded.

"Say, you got a real pretty voice. Would you maybe wanna use it? Jane's retiring soon. She did the weather. Glad to see her go, she was kind of a drag."

Y/N didn't want to be excited about the offer because Henry was awfully... unhygienic. She didn't want him to get any ideas with her either. Still, she couldn't stop the light from dancing its way into her eyes. She nodded eagerly, excited to finally get her chance to have their listeners hear her voice.

Each day, she'd come in and tell the people who tuned into their station that it'd be sunny, or rainy, or windy, or snowy. Each day, she slowly spent more and more time on the air. Eventually, Henry decided that she'd simply be promoted to his cohost.

She was appreciative, but apparently not nearly as appreciative as he would've liked. Henry got flirty. He'd compliment her clothes, her hair, and her shoes. He'd tell her how smart she was. At some point, the seemingly harmless compliments turned into him hitting on her.

"You've got a sexy voice, babe."

"Oh, um. Thank you, but please don't call me babe."

He took that pretty personally.

"Listen here, you little bitch. I'm the reason you have this job. You wouldn't be anybody without me. So why don't you be a good girl and keep your mouth shut."

He got closer and closer to her, and louder with each step. But just before he'd reached her, a large crack appeared in the floor. Tendrils of shadow slithered out of the crack, and a horrific looking man rose from the gaping red crevice.

"I believe the nice woman said "please". Now, I'd like you to say sorry."

The man was terrifying, with a short red bob, black eyes with glowing red pupils, large antlers growing from his head, and what appeared to be deer ears. Everything about him seemed very pointy.

"What the fuck?!" Henry screamed.

"Nope, those aren't the words I was looking for."

The shadowy tendrils that preceded the man shot out at Henry, wrapping themselves around his throat and pulling him from his feet, into the air. The man turned to face Y/N, a smile stretching the width of his face. His antlers shrunk down and when he blink, his sclera turned red. "Hello, my dear. I'm here to take you away."

"Where are we going?" Y/N trembled. The man's face looked very familiar, but she couldn't quite place a name to it.

"Hell, of course."

Hell? As in, the Bible's Hell? Y/N felt her heart stop.

"Who are you?"

His grin got even bigger. "Oh, I'm sure you recognize me, dear. You've been staring at my portrait for months."

She racked her brain, when an image from one of the papers she'd skimmed through flashed in her mind. Her blood ran cold. "Alastor. You're Alastor."

"Bingo! Now, let's go. I have somewhere to be tonight."

He grabbed her hand, and the two were forced through the ground. She screamed, and the noise was silenced as the crack in the floor sealed itself shut behind them.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin fanfic #hazbin x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader

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maxsimagination · 4 months

Text

𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀 - 𝘀.𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆

warnings: none, pure fluff

----

"thankyou so much, i'm sure she'll love it. bye." i clicked the red 'hang up' button on my phone as i finished up my call with nikki webster, the one and only. it was steph's birthday tomorrow and i wanted to surprise her with her favourite song, sung by her favourite artist.

macca, lani and caitlin had suggested we throw a party on the night of her birthday, and we surprise her with something, but it was me that thought of flying down nikki to perform.

the whole team thought it was a great idea, and they each pitched in to help set up the party, and make sure steph didn't find out. i even had tony make sure we were allowed to hold the gathering in the huge 'lounge' we had at the matilda's training complex. of course he'd said yes and and made sure there was speakers and a mic for nikki to sing with.

i was snapped out of my daydream when steph walked in and slid her arms around my waist. “hey babe, whatcha up to?” i turn to her with a smile.

"nothing." my voice is laced with cheekiness and steph can tell something's up. "you sound like your up to something, what have you done?" her tone was light enough for it to be a joke but part of her was slightly scared, i'm known to be impulsive and not think things through.

"i swear i haven't done anything, stephy." again with the sickly sweet smile. she decided to drop it for know, but her gut knew that i was up to something. it's a sixth sense she gets when she's with me.

——

the next day rolled around; steph's 29th birthday. i was the first one awake, like an excited little kid even though it wasn't even my birthday. i slipped out of the bed we shared and tiptoed down to the kitchen to start making some breakfast for my girl. my phone was on the kitchen counter, some light music flowing from the small speakers as i danced around, whipping up some pancakes.

it didn't take me long and i was soon pouring the batter into little circles in the frying pan. i had two plates on a tray, ready to be brought up to steph in our room. finally i had all the pancakes dishes up, grabbed the bottle of golden syrup that i knew steph would use, the utensils and the tray and headed to the sleeping beauty still in bed.

she was in fact, still in bed, and i slipped down next to her, putting the tray on my bedside table. "steph, wake up. i made you breakfast." it must have been the smell of the pancakes that woke her because she always sleeps through alarms. "mmm, mornin' babe, something smells good."

i chuckled at her and brought the tray to rest in front of us. "happy birthday." i pressed a kiss to her forehead and she sat up to eat with me. "don't remind me how old i am." she grinned at me and we started eating.

"stephanie-elise catley, you better be dressed! we have to go to training." i shouted out to my girlfriend who was probably still lying in bed. we had both finished eating almost a half hour ago and i had taken everything to the kitchen to get cleaned up. now i was dressed and ready to walk out the door but steph was nowhere to be seen or heard.

"i'm coming i'm coming!" there was a faint shout back and some small stomps from the room, you could tell she forgot we had training and was now hopping about the room trying to get dressed quickly.

i just laughed to my self as she finally hurtled down the stairs with her shoes in one hand and phone in the other. "okay, i'm here. let's go." she grinned proudly at me, it was the quickest she'd gotten dressed before. "alright, alright tiger. put your shoes on and we'll go." it was times like these that really made me fall in love more. i grabbed the car keys and we both went out to the car, heading to training.

——

i was absolutely shattered after that session. tony had us running hard, fine tuning everything we could for the world cup. the rest of the team was currently in the change rooms, i was outside with sam. someone had to keep steph distracted, and then get her back here for the party. "okay, so i'll take care of steph, we just need to set up the room inside before nikki gets here."

i was slightly stressing and sam could tell "hey, y/n, chill. i got everything covered. you said that party's at 5, nikki at 5:30?"

i took a deep breath and sighed. "yea, thanks so much sam. i just want it to be perfect for her." we finished the details of our plan and headed to get changed. once both me and steph were done, we headed to the car, me sending a discreet nod to sam and macca one our way out. they were the like the co-captains of steph's secret birthday celebration.

it was almost impossible for me to hard the jitters i had about my surprise for steph. it was now the afternoon and i had to get both of us ready and back out for the party. "hey, stephy! c'mere." she poked her head out from wherever she was hiding. "yea what's up?" "i'm taking you out for your birthday, you have to go and get ready." her face softened with a smile.

"you don't have to do that, y/n. i'm happy to just stay in with you." "but i want to. c'mon, pretty please?" i attempt my best version of puppy eyes and she instantly folded.

"okay, okay. anything for you, love." she left with a smile and got changed. i had already changed into my clothes, and soon so was steph. we went on our way and when we got close i told her to cover her eyes. with much protesting, she reluctantly covered her eyes with her hand for the rest of the ride. i pulled into the matilda's complex for the second time that day, turning the vehicle off.

"hold on, i'll come get you." i raced around the side to get steph. she slowly hopped out, eyes still covered. i walked her inside and made sure she wasn't peeking.

"okay, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" i opened the door to the room and the team yelled out at us from the other side. steph immediately opened her eyes and grinned at what she saw. "oh, this is so cute, thankyou y/n!" she turned to hug me and i returned the favour. we started mingling with all our teammates, me heading for sam and mac.

"that was so stressful. i was jittering the whole way here." they laughed at me and we all checked the time, ready for nikki to make an appearance.

speak of the devil, i got a ping on my phone and saw it was from nikki. 'pulling in now, see you soon.' i snapped into action and told sam to meet nikki out front and mac was in charge of putting on the song. i headed for steph. "we have to dance, come on, mac is putting on music."

she laughed at my antics and followed me to the middle of the floor. her favourite song, strawberry kisses, blasted through the sound system and steph broke into a grin.

'𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦,

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨,

𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴,

𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪'𝘮 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.'

the lyrics were thrown out into the room and everyone joined in. it was the teams' song, they loved listening to it.

'𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦,

𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦,

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳,

𝘰𝘩-𝘰𝘩.'

steph was having a magnificent time, dancing away with me, yelling out the words with the song. the the voice changed, it was still the same song but it was like it was being sung live, in the room.

'𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴,

𝘤𝘶𝘻 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺.

𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴,

𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦.'

everyone whipped their heads towards the door where nikki webster stood, mic in hand, singing steph's favourite song. the whole room cheered, even sam was clapping and cheering from her place next to the singer. i looked at steph, who was shocked. she had no idea this was happening. "happy birthday, love." she turned to me.

"you did this?" i nodded with a smile. she wrapped me in a tight hug, squeezing me until i couldn't breathe. it was definitely a memorable night, one that ended very late and with tony scolding us that we'd be tired at training the next day. but none of us cared in that moment.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #steph catley #steph catley x reader #steph catley imagine

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 4 months

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not sure if I've already requested this so sorry if I have haha,

but how would the m6 react to a mc with sh scars? if it's not too heavy of a topic for you, if it is, I completely understand that :)

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC has SH scars

~ not too heavy at all, anon, I'd actually been hoping to write this at some point and your request gave me that excuse! to anyone else who relates a little too much: you're not alone, your pain is valid, and there is hope for you even when it doesn't feel like it - brainrot ~

CW for: references to scarring and self-harm. I can remember points in my life when this would have been triggering for me to read. If this would be triggering for you too, please prioritize your health.

Julian

He noticed early on that you'd get a strange look on your face when he mentioned being comfortable with experiencing pain, and he's been curious about why for some time

You generally found a way to hide them - whether with your clothes or in the low lighting - until after you defeated the Devil, which was when Julian was less distracted enough to notice more details

Like the unusual textures that appeared when your clothes shifted as you moved around your daily tasks, and how hellbent you seemed on immediately adjusting them

He waits to approach the subject until he knows you're both in a calm headspace, after the day is done as the two of you lounge in front of the fire with your dinner

He wants to hear your side of things, but the first thing he's going to ask is to let him look at them. He's a doctor, he loves you, and he wants to know the extent of the damage and how he can help your healing

Might cry a little, but hides it and refuses to make it about himself by pulling you into the biggest hug instead

It throws him into some serious self reflection, which leads to lots of late-night talks about self-destructive habits and how you two can best support each other in a way that's loving and not enabling

Will get a matching tattoo if you choose to cover them that way

Asra

The first time they saw them was right after your resurrection, and their heart sank right down into their feet

Here he felt like he'd just saved you, only to find that you'd not only woken up in a miserable state, but that the life you'd had before had been far more painful for you than he had been aware of

Which is when they became determined to give you such a good life and so much platonic love and support that the scars on your body would truly belong to a past life

The first time you asked him about why you had them, he said they were leftover from an old battle that you had fought very bravely. Going into any more detail only made your headaches worse

They did watch your behavior and mood closely, though, in case you started to fight that battle again. They never judged you for them or offered to smooth them over

After you defeated the Devil together, he told you the truth about them and what they meant, even though he didn't know the details of why you had them

It was also their chance to give you an apology for not noticing before you died, when they were still your friend and cared about you. They know it's not their fault, but the guilt was still there

He kisses them every morning and night

Nadia

She's heard vague stories from her family members about people who were in so much pain that they would self harm, but she'd never seen such a strong example in person

Which is why she initially assumed they were the result of some fierce battle or tragedy, and planned to ask you later

She first noticed them when she was fitting you for a new outfit, and saw how hesitant you were to let her look at them. Everything she's made for you since covers them completely

She finally asks about them several months into your relationship, expecting you to either not remember or to hear a moving story of conquering some fierce enemy or fighting for a loved one

To say that she doesn't expect your answer is an understatement. It surprises her so much that her only response is "oh," in an unusually small voice, before moving on to the next topic

She's able to process it the next time she's alone, when she's struck both by her awe at your capacity to fight something so dark and by her grief that you've been doing it without her all this time

Clears her next evening to have a private dinner with you, first so she can apologize for her initial response and second so she can invite you to tell her more about it and offer her support

Likes to dress you herself so you know you're not alone or unseen

Muriel

Knew exactly what they were as soon as he saw them, which was less than half a day into your travels South with Morga

And promptly refused to talk about it because he can relate to those dark impulses more than he'd like to and because he didn't see it as being any of his business. But he does start to watch you

He watches for any sign of pain, he watches how you fix your clothes, he watches how your gaze falls on any sharp object, because even if it isn't his business he cares more than he expects

He becomes less and less discreet about how closely he's observing you until you finally notice it one evening, how the firelight falls on your scars and how his eyes fixate on them

At this point the reciprocated staring is so awkward that he'll do anything to fix the tension, so he shuffles and mumbles something along the lines of "You can talk about it if you want to. I don't mind."

So you do, and he gets hit square in the chest with how much he's come to care about you over the course of the trip

He's especially frustrated because he empathizes so deeply, and since he doesn't know how to fix himself, he's worried he'll only mess you up further

In the end, he learns to apply the kindness he feels towards you to himself as well, and sees your scars as valid as he sees his own

Portia

She's still very embarrassed (and slightly ashamed) for how things went the first time she saw them

She'd noticed something peeking out from your clothes, and how you seemed focused on covering them, and falsely assumed that it was some cool magical tattoo

Which only piqued her curiosity. This has to be juicy, and she's determined to get a closer look. Which is why, as soon as you'd become friends, she took her first chance to snatch a look

And then froze. And then dropped you, and then burst into tears. How could this happen, MC? Why would you do this to yourself? It looks like it must have hurt so much -

It's unfortunate but you're going to have to comfort her first while she works her way through the five stages of grief. She loves you, and she's heartbroken and confused about why this would happen

She needs time to process how she feels about it before she can listen to you without having a meltdown. Her normal response to self-destruction is a fist to the gut (Ilya) and that wouldn't do

Ends up following your cues when it comes to how she talks to you about it. If it's in the past, it's in the past. If it's a current struggle, then she's your partner. She'll be right next to you

She does think your fighting spirit makes you badass, though

Lucio

He's not great at noticing details unless they directly correspond to physical strengths and weaknesses. Any kind of scarring from a wound is (from his experience) a totally normal thing to see

When he starts to notice how you cover yours or get weird about them being touched, he asks about it right away

You've got such cool scars, MC, why are you hiding them? You should show them off so everyone knows how battle-tested you are! Here, he'll show his off too! *cue him stripping off his shirt*

It's a little difficult to know how best to respond to this. You're each other's life partners by now, he should probably know the truth, but you don't know how to burst his bubble

You do end up telling him later, once you're settling into your inn for the night, and watching the realization and hurt dawn across his face is anything but easy

MC, why? You deserve the best, you are the best, you're his best, you're telling him that you treated someone like yourself this poorly when you were showing him so much forgiveness?

He's not trying to guilt you at all, but it comes close to having that effect. The only thing he can think to do is hug you really really tight and hope it convinces you that you deserve better

Still refers to them as your battle scars, because to him they are

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 8.5: Play Rough

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: four go two a bar, two end up covered in marks

Warnings: PinV, dom/sub, rough sex, marking, possessive behavior, sub space, hair pulling, titles (daddy, sir)

Notes: gotta have some self-discovery, ya know?

Masterlist

This was not how she thought their night would be ending. Just stopping in at the after-party and then coming back to the room for some well-deserved sleep.

There was no sleep happening in this hotel room tonight.

They had gone to the after party. She was wearing a dress in a pretty blue color that she felt confident in. It wasn't revealing. The insecure part of her brain told her that she would be an embarrassment if she showed off her skin and scars anymore than she already was.

They all looked good, in her honest opinion. The other three had her feeling all sorts of things with just their clothes.

The group had split into pairs. Her and Lando went up to the bar. Nothing strong for them, neither of them quite like the feeling of alcohol.

Charles and Max have a tendency to keep putting away the alcohol and the younger two end up dragging them back to bed. So they get the privilege of going first while the olders meet up with their mates.

"You look pretty tonight. Is there a special someone you're dressing for?" He winks comically bad. He knows the answer to his question. She'd done it for herself, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and make her blush.

The reason they travel in pairs is because places like this have a tendency to lower people's filters. They up the creepy and stupid factor by too much on most occasions.

Her first experience at a club was horrendous. She was not prepared for the amount of close proximity encounters and men touching her waist.

She didn't know why she flinched so hard. Almost as if her body was on auto pilot for something she had no clue about.

Regardless, he touched her and tried to steal her away from Max. His mistake, really. The Dutch doesn't particularly like sharing with strangers.

Max is possessive. It's not in a bad way. He's just extremely protective. She'd confided in him and had shared her fears with him. If something made her scared or uncomfortable, then he had every intention of fixing the problem.

He'd punched him, and then they left.

Max had done something similar with Lando, though much less aggressive.

The Brit struggles to make himself heard at times. His natural instinct is to keep the peace if someone gets aggressive with him. Unless it's him being a brat on purpose to get Max to be rough with him.

Again, they'd decided to go out with some friends to a club. Lando had found himself alone at the bar waiting for a drink. His loneliness lasted seconds.

A woman, who she'd found beautiful herself, had approached him. She'd started the unwanted advances on him, and he could not get the idea through to her that he wasn't interested.

She'd continued, though. She went as far as to run her fingers along his patches of skin that his t-shirt didn't cover.

He wanted to scream at her to stop, but his voice kept getting caught in his throat.

She'd seen it escalate farther. The vision hitting her like a train. She'd tapped Max's should and simply said 'Lando' and 'help'.

Max was gone in an instant, putting himself between Lando and the obnoxious woman. Then, he proceeded to tell her off. He didn't care who was looking. If someone asked, he was defending a friend.

Charles and the female ended up making a trip to the store that night. Lando had so many hickies and a good few that needed to be covered.

After those couple incidents, they travel in pairs. It didn't matter who or where. They always have a buddy, as Lando likes to call it.

But even the buddy system can't always save them.

Despite the empty seats at the bar, a couple of similar age to them sit down on either side of the two. It felt oddly like a trap, and she was already uncomfortable. She catches how Lando drops his hand down to the side and she discreetly takes it.

Her and Lando had come up with a secret language a while back. It allows them to talk during conversations with other people or about Charles and Max when they are in the room.

She threw a few rapid taps into his palm. 'Unsafe'

'Copy. Leave?'

Before she can respond, the two are striking up an incredibly forward conversation.

"Are you two together?" Smirks the male.

For publicty reasons. "No, just friends."

"What a shame, you're both just too adorable." Purrs the woman next to her. "Maybe you want to come get some advice about bedroom performance? Or just to have some fun."

She feels sick. "I have a boyfriend." She settles for. A line Hana actually told her to use. The majority of unwanted advances can be stopped with just that line. Even if they keep talking, they are less likely to try anything.

"And it’s not the fine, young man?" The man on the other side of Lando starts messing with Lando's collar. His freeze response kicking in hard.

"No, but he'll be over here shortly." She tries to smile politely, so this doesn't escalate.

"But you're both so pretty. I really don't want to let this opportunity go to waste." The girl assumes that the woman now pawing at the hem of her dress and thighs is delusional.

Her response is much different from Lando. She has a tendency to fight if people start touching her. More aggressive than she likes, but its sort of deserved on their end.

She's shoving th woman away from her. Batting her hands away from her thighs. Yet the woman still persists, and she can see that they are using it as a distraction to put something in the drinks in front of them.

Max and Charles enter the bar area and see them struggling. Charles is quick to grab Max's shoulder to stop him from doing something rash.

Both of them stride over, and it looks oddly intimidating. She man and woman halt their actions as they approach.

"I don't think they like that very much." Charles crosses his arms over his chest.

"I'm giving you a chance to get away." Seethes Max.

Then, the couple is scrambling to get away. Leaving the younger two in shock and distress.

She vaugly remembers something about 'Claiming them' being said on the ride back to the hotel.

Which is where they are now. Clothes scattered about. The sun is gone, and the only light is now a dim lamp.

"I feel like I've done something wrong." Admits the Brit. He's sitting on the bed in his boxers, waiting for anything to happen. His back is to her, and she's sitting in the exact same position on the opposite side of the bed.

"Nope, but that interaction had us wanting you both." Expresses Charles. "Might leave a few marks to show everyone that you're taken."

Charles winks at her and leaves her a blushy mess. Sometimes, she hates what they do to her. Yet she simultaneously loves it.

"You know Charles, I think we ought to remind them why it is they chose us and not people like them." He suggests.

Max basically manhandles Lando into where he wants him. Underneath and pleading with his eyes.

Max attacks his collar bone. She can her the Dutch doing his best to mark him. She can't see them since her back is turned, but she listens.

Charles eyes her up and down before doing the same. Though he is much more gentle. They are all gentle with her. Sometimes, she wishes they'd be rough with her also.

She looks away from Charles for a second and gazes over at the other two with jealousy.

"Words, amour."

"Can we- do like they're doing? I guess." She stutters out.

Charles grabs her chin and brings her gaze back to him. "You want me to be rough?"

She nods yes eagerly. The anticapation building up inside her is insane. She feels like she might spontaneously combust.

"Tell me if you don't like it and we'll stop, okay?"

"Okay."

Then Charles is doing the same to her. Tossing her limbs around to get her situated where he wants her. He trails kisses and marks a path down to the waistband of her underwear. He peels them off of her and tosses them aside.

"I think someone likes this." He winks. Once again, leaving her to blush.

He teases her with the tip of his finger. She almost whines at the feeling, but she can't as he decides to thrust his fingers inside her with an intense speed.

She looks next to her where Lando is getting more of the same treatment from Max. The Brits moans only grow from watching her and Charles.

"I think they like this, Charlie." Smirks Max. The cheeky Dutch is listening to some of his favorite sounds at the moment, and he never wants it to end.

She can hardly register what's happening. Charles has more than one finger in her, and she knows she's not going to last much longer.

Much to her dismay, he pulls out of her. She looks at him with curiosity as he starts stripping himself of his clothes.

Max turns his attention to the Monegasque and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss. He helps Charles out of his clothes and then discards his own. It's clumsy, but they could care less.

She takes a second to look at Lando. The bright red marks already blossoming around his skin. She can't help herself and reaches out to caress the biggest mark on his collarbone. She'd had a fascination with how a bruise can be pretty.

Lando throws her a smile. Her curiosity is one of his favorite things about her.

The older two finally turn their attention back to them. The look on endearingly as the female continues to study each mark. On the Brit.

"You wanna leave one?" Max asks her. She'd never left a mark on any of them. To scared she'd hurt them or do it wrong.

But seeing how Lando is enjoying it makes her want to. She nods her head yes, and the odd bit of excitement of doing something new comes back.

"Why don't you put it on the bottom of his neck. He likes it there." Max guides her, and she does as suggested.

As soon as she her lips hit the spot, Lando is a mess again. One of his hands finding the back of her head and strokes her hair.

She takes her time deliberately licking, sucking, and biting. She can feel Lando squirming and feeling the moans in his throat. It only intensifies when the older two find their way back to them. Their hands now roaming everywhere.

Max is the one that pulls her off. "See, isn't that a pretty mark?" She smiles at her work and the out of breath Lando.

Then Lando lands a kiss to her lips. It's sloppy and hungry, and she has no idea what to do next.

Max and Charles guide them. Her lips are still on Landos even as they are moved.

The fact that they've done this before and it still feels new every time makes a mess of her. Charles is taking her from behind. she and Lando are attempting to have contact, but it's difficult when he's also being taken by Max. It's rough, and it's hot, and she hasn't even finished and is still in a state of bliss.

Charles' grip on her hips and thighs is bruising, and his pace is once again relentless. She can't help but fall further into the mattress.

Charles doesn't let that slide and is pulling on her hair to bring her back up. It hurts a little, but she likes it and can stop the heavy moan that leaves her lips because of it.

"Look at Lando. Look at the mess you've helped make of him." He leans down and whispers into her skin.

She wants to think about it more. She wants to think about Lando's whines of pleasure and the sounds of Max and Charles' sloppy kisses above her.

But she can't because she's fuzzy in the head and on the verge of falling over the edge into complete bliss.

"Can I- please- need to."

Charles redirects his attention to her. His hand. Slips around the front, forcing her jaw upwards as Max mirrors the motion. She is now staring straight into Lando's eyes.

She might die here, she thinks.

"Beg for it. Need to hear how bad you want it Chéri." Charles punctuates with a deep guttural moan.

"Please, I want it so bad- please, Daddy Mm need it." The name does things to Charles, and she knows it.

The title of sorts came before Lando joined. It was originally Max's, and occasionally, it still is, but when they are both dominant like this, then Max is sir, and Charles is daddy because they have to differentiate somehow.

Regardless, she lets it slip and then Charles' hips stutter. She registers the permission she needs, and then she's gone. Lando is falling with her. She would love to see it, but her vision is going blurry as Charles gets her through the high.

It's all heavy panting for a moment. Then Lando is whining, and Max and Charles are whispering to each other.

She sometimes hates herself for getting so deep into the headspace that she can't think of anything else. And the not lack of touch is making her want to cry.

Until the familiar feeling of Max's rough hand is palming at her ass. He flips her with ease. Something she's yet to get used to. Then, he caresses her face gently. Lando is already moaning heavily once again, followed by the familiar moans of Charles.

"Gonna let sir take care of you, yeah?" And who is she to say no? She mumbles a slew of 'yes' and 'please', but it's not at all coherent.

"Want sir in me, please." She manages through small pants and whines. And Max is never one to waste time. She's already stretched, so he doesn't wait. He immediately sets an inhuman pace.

She finds her gaze drifting to other places only for it to be brought back to Max by force. "Eyes stay on me." Somehow, the eye contact only increases the pleasure.

It's like her mind has overridden itself. Wanting nothing more than to hear the praise she craves and is willing to do anything to get it.

"Don't need to ask."

The part of her mind that can't form coherent words becomes relieved. She's not sure she could ask if she wanted to.

Max's hands grip into her hip and thigh. Again, she can hear more than she sees. Lando has found his peek again, presumably, by the whiny scream he lets out. The next is Charles, who is shockingly not as vocal tonight. Yet the French swearing gives him away.

Her eyes are still firmly placed on Max. His eyes glazed over with nothing but lust. He presses his body further into hers. The skin on skin lighting every one of her nerves on fire.

Max grips onto her collar bone with his teeth. The suddenness of it causes her back to arch. Her vision goes fuzzy as she finds herself jumping off the ledge into a pool of bliss and pleasure.

It's beautiful. Her boys are beautiful. It's the only thought her mind can grab onto as Max slows.

He pulls out of her slowly, then crawls down the length of her body. Kissing every scar along the way. The feeling makes her ever more drowsy.

He takes the opportunity to bite and suck in a few different places. Leaving marks every Charles and Lando had yet to leave any. Her body was clearly marked.

"No falling asleep yet. We need to clean up and get liquids in us." Max pulls himself away from her, and she almost cries at no longer being able to feel anyone's skin on hers.

Charles splays his ringed fingers on her thigh. The new sensation makes her shiver.

The two are exchanging words and endearing looks. Charles and Max are cute like that.

"We're going to clean up and grab a few things. We'll be back in two minutes to help the two of you, okay?" She shakes her head yes, not completely understanding, but she heard him, which is the important part right now.

Charles replaces his hand with Lando's. Who ultimately just drags her body into his for more contact.

Something about post sex cuddles makes her feel fluttery. Specifically with Lando because usually he's just as out of it as her.

"Don't think I'll be walking tomorrow." He mumbles into her shoulder. "Did you like it rough? I'll beat 'em up if you didn't."

"It was... fun? I'm not sure how else to describe it." She forgets sometimes that Sex doesn't have to be serious. She can have fun and still feel good.

"Next, I'll teach you how to say 'make me'."

Max and Charles come out from wherever they and a loud 'absolutely not' can be heard from the two in unison.

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @chanshintien @vellicora @hollie911 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @be-your-coffee-pot

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fandoms-writings · 2 months

Text

In My Dreams • 3

Pairing: Post-Engame!Bucky Barnes x DreamWitch!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Looking for something to aide his sleepless nights, Bucky searches for you, the dream witch of New York. You're known for helping vets with PTSD have terrorless nights and being a home to the gifted mutants of the city. What Bucky didn't expect, was for you to be so captivating, or for him to open up to easily around you. But to have the powers you do, you've got to be more than just a mutant, right?

Warnings: Not much for this chapter, some anxiety, mentions of traumatic pasts (not very detailed though), bucky is soft in this

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

Bucky hadn't been back to see you in a few weeks. It wasn't like he didn't want to, he did - he missed you. But he didn't know what to say.

He felt like a coward for the way he'd left. He knew that you meant no harm, that you weren't offering this dream walking solution to use what you'd find in his head against him. He understood that you were just trying to help, that his options were limited. But the thought of someone else rummaging around in his head again let loose the anxiety he'd just recently gotten a hold of and it gripped him by the throat, making it hard to breathe and hard to think.

All he could focus on was getting himself back home where he could wallow in his anxiety as it settled back in his chest and overthink every possible scenario. None of the scenarios where you intended any harm sat right with him. They felt wrong. Not just because it would be a horrible thing for you to do, but because he knew you wouldn't do that.

He knew you better than that.

And he knew he needed to apologize.

Which was why he was standing outside your warehouse, a box of fresh beignets from your favorite bakery in hand.

He hadn't gone inside yet, something felt off and he'd started to think that maybe he should've called ahead of time. But he'd never done that before, and if you were busy he could leave the baked goods with Tori and she'd take them to you.

He brushed off the weird feeling that was crawling up his neck as he opened the door and walked down the hall to that familiar door that thrummed with magic. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open, ready to face the other patrons and the music.

But there was no music.

And the space was empty.

Empty save for the people who worked directly under you. They were tidying up in silence, looking as if they spoke they'd be reprimanded.

Bucky swallowed once, his anxiety suddenly pricking at every nerve in his body, before shuffling his way to the bar, where he usually sat and waited for you. He caught the attention of Alec, the young lanky man behind the bar, whose eyes widened when they landed on Bucky.

Alec rushed around the bar, holding his finger over his lips in a shushing manner when Bucky opened his own to ask what was going on. As he quickly walked over, he gestured towards a closed off sitting room, and Bucky followed the silent suggestion, stepping into the familiar room and turning towards the young man who carefully shut the glass door.

Bucky didn't dare speak first. He didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, he didn't like how cold it made your safe haven seem. How the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck wouldn't go down.

"You shouldn't be here." Alec whispered, barely audible over the heavy silence.

"What's going on?"

Alec looked through the door, fidgeting with his fingers, "The coven is here."

"The coven?" Bucky had never heard of a coven. He knew now you weren't just a regular mutant, but for some reason he thought you were the only one. He hadn't considered the fact that you might have some sort of magical family - you never spoke about them. "Is that a bad thing?"

Alec looked to the floor before he raised his gaze back up to Bucky's, his eyes sorrowful, nervous. "It is when she's an outcast." Bucky went to ask what happened, but Alec shook his head, as if to tell him he'd have to ask you directly. "The last time the coven showed up. . . it didn't go very well."

Bucky's blood ran cold with that familiar calculating stillness. "What did they do?"

Alec shook his head, "All I can say is they took something from her. They took something and left. And she didn't come down from her rooms for three days."

He would've asked what they took, but he knew Alec wouldn't tell him. He released a long breath through his nose. "When will they leave?"

Alec took his eyes off the door, "They're usually only here for a few hours when they visit. They should be gone by dusk at the latest."

Bucky looked at his watch - dusk was two hours away. He glanced to his usual seat, where he'd sit and tell you about the dreams he'd had, the good memories that your help brought back to him, and he sat. He had nowhere more important to be. "I'll wait."

~~~

You held your head high as you escorted your "sisters" to the main lobby. They're random check-ins always wore you down, making it an effort just to keep your back straight, to not let them see the way they stole all of your energy. Their snide remarks and not so subtle glares of disgust at your home. The way they spoke to you as if you were still a child. The way they talked of you redeeming yourself in their eyes when you knew they'd never let you back in.

It was exhausting.

But as you led them down the stairs, a certain leather jacket behind a closed glass door caught your attention and your breath caught in your throat. It took every ounce of concentration to stay leading the women out of your home, to not run to see his face. You hadn't seen or heard from him in weeks and you were dying to know how he was holding up. You would've checked in, but you didn't want to impose where you might not have been wanted. He needed time and you gave it to him.

Your pace slightly quickened at the sight of the front door and you pulled it open, revealing the dark warehouse tunnel on the other side.

"Travel safely," You stiffly said as the five women barely nodded before leaving. Barely acknowledging you as they peered down their noses at you. The five matrons never liked you, so it was something you were used to, but it still stung.

The last one, Lady Gianna, paused at the threshold, turning to you with eyes of steel. She was a beautiful woman in her mid fifties, but she was cutthroat, ruthless. She demanded respect that you willingly offered her with a bow of your head and a slight bend in your knees.

You stiffened as her voice reached your ears, a low whisper meant only for you. "Something is coming, protect yourself." You looked up to see her not even looking at you anymore, her gaze down the hall. "Do not do anything brash. I do not wish to punish you a second time. It will be the last."

With that, she stepped into the hall, swiftly joining the other matrons in the shadows of the warehouse, but you didn't wait to watch them leave before quickly shutting the door, turning the lock with shaky fingers.

What in the hell did that mean? You pondered the words of Lady Gianna for a moment, your forehead pressed to the humming wood of the door. She'd never warned you before, and to admit she didn't want to punish you was odd. Last time, it felt as if she found the most joy out of watching you suffer.

A door opening behind you had you tucking her words away for later, not to be forgotten, as you turned to meet those baby blues you'd missed so much.

Your lips hesitantly drew up in the corners, as you slowly stepped towards him. "James."

He gave you a grin full of sorrow as his name fell from your lips. He looked well enough, though his cheeks were just a bit more hollow and the area around his eyes seemed dark. You supposed he wasn't getting enough sleep in the past few weeks. You knew he ran out of your spells a day or two after you'd last seen him.

You stopped just a couple feet away from him, fighting your itching fingers to reach out and touch him, to embrace him, to squeeze his hand, anything. "I was wondering when I'd see you again."

He took a step forward, gently reaching for your hands and holding them in his own. "I'm so sorry," He breathed, "I'm sorry for running off the way I did and for not reaching out. I just didn't know what to do."

A breathy chuckle broke past your lips as you smiled, squeezing his hands, "You don't need to apologize, James. I'm just glad to see you're alright."

He offered a soft smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes as his worried gaze remained on you, "Are you okay?"

You cocked your eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"

"Alec said your coven was visiting," he muttered, as if the words themselves would hurt you, "He also told me that things don't really go well when they visit."

Your small smile faltered as you struggled to keep it up, glancing down to your entangled fingers. "What else did he tell you?"

His fingers squeezed yours, "That they took something from you. He didn't say what, or why, and you don't have to tell me either. But I just want to make sure you're okay."

Your vision was blurry when you looked up at him again, the moisture in your eyes distorting your view of him. "I'll be okay," You hated how your voice trembled over the words, "I promise."

He nodded, his lips now a thin line as he hesitated, but ended up letting go of your hands, your fingers instantly cold in his absence. But it didn't last long as he reached around your shoulders and pulled you in, holding you close.

You tried to fight it, to reign in the way your body reacted to him, but it instinctively melted against his as your arms wrapped around his middle and your nose buried into his chest inhaling the smell of him. Pressing your eyes closed, trying not to let the tears slip, you tried to focus on just him. Hints of mahogany, cedar, and leather flooded your senses and you sighed as his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you to him while he traced gentle lines across your skin.

You could've stood there in his arms forever if he let you. There was something about him that lured you in, that comforted you and made you feel light. Something about him that made you happy.

He held you for a long few minutes before his lips brushed your ear in a whisper, "I brought you something."

Pulling out of his hold, you wiped at the few tears that had slipped through your lashes, "You brought me something?"

"I did," He turned back to the room he'd been waiting for you in, leading you inside where a box sat on the little coffee table.

"What is this?" You smiled as he gestured to the box, silently telling you to open it.

"It was my peace offering," He stated as you lifted the lid, beignets filling the box."I thought maybe you'd be mad at how I left."

"So you were going to bribe me with beignets?" You asked, a brow raised in mock suspicion and he chuckled.

"I was going to try," He looked at you, "I don't know what I'd do if you stayed mad at me, I had to do what I could."

"I wasn't mad, or upset," You closed the box before laying one of your hands on his chest. "I was just worried."

"I didn't mean to worry you," He muttered, grabbing your hand with his own.

"I know," You sighed, wanting to start feeling better and looked back to the box of desserts before a grin took over your lips. "I have something I want to show you."

~~~

You lead him up the stairs to the second level where your office was. But you kept walking down the hall, passing the large oak doors and the various hallways before coming to a set of small hidden metal spiral stairs. He followed you up, though when you looked back at him, he was climbing the stairs at an angle between the center pole and the railing, causing a giggle to tumble from your lips. His shoulders were a bit too broad to fit.

When you reached the top, you unlocked and pushed open the hatch, climbed out and took the box of beignets from him to let him join you.

"What is this?" He asked, his eyes roaming the space.

"This," You stepped around him, closing the hatch with a soft thud, "is where I come to hide from my life, sometimes." You watched as he walked around the small area, the plants hanging from the trellis brushing his shoulders as he passed under them. You watched him run his fingers along the back of the outdoor couch, the cushions a dark brown to match the small table that was lined with books in front of it.

"It was freezing out today," He turned to you and you walked around the couch, taking a seat and placing the box on the table. "How do you keep it warm up here? It's perfect."

You flashed a smile, "Take a wild guess."

He scoffed with a smile before sitting next to you, "I know it's magic, but," He paused, as if he shouldn't even be asking.

"You want to know how it's done."

He looked over to you with a nod but was sure to quickly add, "You don't have to tell me."

Tucking your feet under you and grabbing a beignet, you leaned back, savoring that first bite before you sighed. "It's an almost constantly running sort of shield," You explained. You reached for a pebble from the ground, tossing it at the edge of the roof. It bounced off of what seemed to be just air, but upon contact left a gold ripple that traveled over the expanse of the dome surrounding your little roof.

"Wow," He turned to you, "Could I. . . ?" He gestured to the same pebble that landed at his feet, and you nodded, watching him toss it in the same spot. He tracked the ripples, tipping his head back as far as he could to watch it go down the other side. When the wall stopped shimmering and was back to being invisible, he turned to you again, "Doesn't keeping this up all the time wear you out?"

"Truthfully, no." You shrugged, taking another bite of your treat before explaining further, "Sure, it does drain from my magic, but in the grand scheme of everything else I'm doing at all times, this is just a splinter in the whole tree."

"That's incredible," Bucky muttered, turning to look at you, "You're incredible."

There was a sudden lightness in your chest as you fought to not smile too broadly, to not allow yourself to become too flustered. "Why do you say that?"

"You're protecting so many people, and helping so many more. You've got this place under lock and key hidden in plain sight with a constantly running magical security system. You've got half the city protecting you because they want to," He sighed, "And you don't have to do any of this stuff. You could take your magic and run away. You could be selfish, and only help yourself. You could leave the rest of us to struggle while you climbed your way up. But you don't leave anyone you can help behind." He reached over, gently swiping his thumb across the tip of your nose, the surface coming away with powdered sugar as he chuckled. "I've only really known one other person who was like that."

You instantly knew who he was talking about. It wasn't a secret that his best friend was the Steve Rogers. The whole damn world knew. But what the world didn't know was how Steve left.

It didn't know how Steve left to return to the past and his friend had left behind. How he left his friend heartbroken and alone. Lost in a world he didn't know.

The world didn't know that, but you did. Bucky had told you. He'd told you of the memory he dreamed about with Steve. The one where they were just teen boys going to Coney Island. Where he saw his friend in a different light for the first time.

He'd told you about the emotions he remembered struggling with in a time where those sorts of feelings between the two of them wouldn't have been accepted. You knew about him trying to move on, dating girls around town. And how he had written to Steve when he was shipped off to the war. How Steve never responded and it hurt but it helped bury those feelings he harbored. But then his friend showed up to rescue him from a scientist, and all of those emotions flooded back.

Then he told you about how after Thanos, Steve told him he was going to stay in the past after returning the infinity stones. He was going to leave the shield to Sam and go find Peggy Carter for that dance. Bucky told you how, even though he was heartbroken once again, he hugged his friend and told him he'd earned that dance.

He let him go.

You wanted to curse Steve Rogers. For leaving behind this gentle man before you. For not keeping true to his end of the line promise.

You wanted to curse him for breaking James's heart.

But you hardly imagined that Bucky would so easily forgive you for digging up his friend's bones and cursing his soul, so you left it alone.

You sighed and finished the beignet in your hand before making Bucky take one. As he took a bite, you reached for another one, smiling at him as you snuggled into his side, watching the city as you made a silent promise that you weren't going anywhere.

That you would never leave him behind.

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