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#why do i feel so comfortable with you. i didn't want this. asshole.
tinalbion · 2 days
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"You Reap What You Sow" ||
Part 2
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x fem!Reader
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Mentions of death, decapitation, abuse (physical and mental), implied (but not mentioned) sexual abuse, manipulation
𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4.5k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You had a bounty on your head and a familiar Ghoul has taken that bounty, so upon catching you, he escorts you back to the compound you escaped. Will you be able to convince him to let you go, or will it be for nothing?
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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You were already exhausted with the sun so high up, causing your skin to feel as if it was melting, but you continued to make your way through the wastes beside your bounty hunter friend, and he hadn't been in a particularly friendly mood today. When you tried to ask him something, you were mostly met with silence, so you just dropped it altogether and continued to walk. As the sun began to sink again, you had distanced yourself from the Ghoul, wishing you had more of a plan to escape from his hold. 
Sure, he hadn't tied your hands together and pulled you along forcefully since you'd given him no reason to, but that didn't mean he wouldn't end up doing so at one point or another. He still kept a watchful eye on you and made sure to match your pace, ready for anything that was to happen. 
But neither of you was prepared for when two strange men approached you both from the left, catching you off guard as you hid behind the Ghoul for safety. He looked down at you, confused as to why you'd seek comfort and safety from him, but he hadn't given you a reason not to. 
“‘Scuse me, but we want that,” one of the men, the taller one, pointed directly at you. “Heard there was a bounty on her, and we ain't one to turn down some caps.”
The Ghoul scoffed and stared at them, obviously not amused. “She's already taken, as you can see, and I ain't got time to deal with lowlifes such as yourselves. Finders keepers.”
You tugged on the sleeve of his decaying duster and caught his attention. “Those two belong to the Condemned, the compound Axton is a part of, where I ran from. He probably sent them to kill you since you brought me this far, keep the money for himself…” You wouldn't have put it past the asshole, but You did recognize the two men even though you couldn't place their names or occupations. 
Upon hearing this new information, the Ghoul lifted his head and stared at the two men, reading the situation. “Well, my little friend here says you work for the asshole who put the bounty out, and I normally  don't have a problem with disposin’ of those who stand in my way, but now I feel downright disrespected with what's goin’ on here.” He placed his hand gently on the hilt of the gun and watched them both start acting nervous, their eyes darting back and forth from each other to the bounty hunter. 
“Look, either way, Axton is getting his little whore back, so–”
With speed you'd never experienced firsthand before, the man's head had exploded. Blood, brain matter, it all shot out and projected far as his now lifeless body crumpled to the ground. You jumped, your hands still holding onto the Ghoul's coat as his gun shifted over toward the other man. 
“Now, you got somethin’ to say against all this, or are you gonna run back to your compound and tell your man Axton that I better get what I'm owed?”
The man looked terrified and slunk back until the Ghoul had placed his gun back into its holster, then he looked down at you. “You're okay, girl, stand up,” he instructed, and you obeyed him. “C’mon, let's get you back before anything else decides to irritate me.”
You stuck close to the bounty hunter and although you could have easily done that yourself, the fear of seeing people that were under his pay, people that you've seen speaking with him, it caused you to freeze in the moment you needed to be clear-headed. As silly as it seemed, this man who was going to turn you back to where you ran felt like more of a safer option. 
“Mister Bounty Hunter… please, I'd rather not be given back to him…” You said, your expression was sullen. 
“Look, sweetheart, I ain't got much of an option right now, these chems you see me inhalin’? These keep me from goin’ feral, you understand? And that's where the bounty comes in, a man’s gotta survive one way or another. I got more important things to worry about right now, as awful as your situation is.”
You did understand, you wished you could have done something to make both your lives easier, but there was only one way to do that, and it would be easier said than done. Before you spoke up further about it, you felt a hard tug at your ankle and you went flying to the ground. 
You fell hard and let out a yelp, the Ghoul spun around and watched as the man who you both thought retreated had roped you by your ankle and was struggling to completely bind your legs together. You had been thrashing around, kicking and screaming at the man as you landed your foot against his jaw, but he reacted quickly and punched you in return. You were slightly stunned, but you had thrown your bag off your back and reached for the pistol in your pack, then shot him square in the neck. There would be no time wasted, you weren't one to take it lying down anymore. 
The Ghoul had stared at the scene in interest, a smile grew across his face as he walked over and rolled the limp body off your legs. “Well, seems like you're a little killer, huh?” He chuckled and removed his knife from its sheath, then cut you free of your half-tied bindings with one quick thrust of the knife upward. 
“I do what I can to get by, much like yourself,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Thanks…” You stood up and dusted yourself off, then looked around before you grabbed your bag, gun still in your hand. 
“You're a curious one, you know that?” The Ghoul said, staring over at you. When you didn't answer and only greeted him with a puzzled look, he scoffed. “Had a gun the whole time and you didn't think to use it on me?” 
You looked away and slid your pack on, then you looked back at him. “Told you, I don't got a shot against you.” 
This made him laugh, he let out a belt of laughter and shook his head. “Been on this  planet for over 200 years and yet I can still be surprised.” 
His back faced away from the seemingly dead merc, but you took notice of the movement a little too late. The man lashed out toward the Ghoul, but you leaped at him and pushed him out of the way, your gun still in your hand, but the way the man threw himself had knocked you back. He plunged a knife deep into your shoulder, and you let out a howl of pain.
“Can't wait to see what he does to you, you bi–”
You brought your gun up to his head and blasted him. He dropped heavily into your lap, his blood splattered all over you, the ground, and your gun. 
You were shaking as the Ghoul got you to your feet, but you clung to him as if your life depended on it, you were just so tired of Axton and the bullshit he constantly put you through, and it finally caught up to you. You sobbed as you buried your face against your captor's chest, just wanting to live a life without Axton, but he'd haunt you until one of you died. 
“I'm sorry,” you groaned, the knife still lodged into your shoulder as you bit your lip. “Dammit.” You sniffled, wiped your face, and slid your pack off your shoulder carefully, hoping not to aggravate your wound. 
“Why’d you do that?”
“What, kill him?” You asked in confusion, tears still welling in your eyes while you dug for a stimpack. 
The Ghoul scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “You pushed me out of the way, you fool,” he admonished. “You ain't got healing like I do, why'd you do somethin’ so stupid?” He placed some pressure on your wound and grabbed the stimpack from your shaking hand. “Breathe in,” he instructed. 
You did as he told you and that's when he administered the stimpack, then you winced at the pain of him pulling the knife out, but immediately holding the wound to slow the bleeding. You looked up at him with a small smile despite all that. “Thanks.”
“Don't pull nothin’ like that again, you hear me?” He began to help you dress the wound as expertly as he could, though he was a tad rusty with having to deal with mortal wounds. 
“What, you'll still get paid regardless. I'm only gonna get worse when I'm back there…” You looked down at the ground and felt the closeness you both shared, but you didn't comment on it. 
He was the first to pull away, but it took him longer than expected. “Come on,” he urged. He had nothing more to say, he had to think. 
More time had passed and you finally stood before the poorly constructed walls of the compound, and you were visibly distraught. “Mister, please,” you said as you turned toward him. You were no longer afraid to release the tears that threatened to fall. “I can't, you saw just a small sliver of what he's capable of, he will beat me senselessly, string me up. I just wanted freedom…” You looked back at the compound and tried your best to remain composed. “What if we take them out? All of them? I know the combination to his safe, I know where everything is stashed, I could help you.”
The Ghoul stood there in silence, listening to your words, words of desperation and bargaining. And as much as he wanted to simply ignore it, he knew he couldn't. Not anymore. You'd stuck your neck out for him, you'd not given him any trouble as he escorted you back, and somehow you managed to grow on him. How, he had no idea, but the sound of killing all these bastards seemed more than satisfactory. Killing them all so they didn't hurt anyone else like you, take their earnings, it all seemed fair, especially after sending someone to take him out and keep the caps for themselves. 
“Even if I were to entertain the idea, sweetheart, there ain't a guarantee you'll make it out of there. I can handle gunshots, you're gonna be a walkin’ corpse riddled with holes.” 
“I know their shifts. I paid attention when I was keeping track of when and who would be where. I can make it happen, I promise. Just please, help me take them down and you can help yourself to whatever you want.” 
The Ghoul looked away from you and brought his attention back to the compound, his eyes stared into the area as he mulled over your words. He let out a sigh, hung his head, and smiled a little. He was going to do this for a smoothie, a human, and for what? Maybe it didn't sit well with him that you took a stab wound for him, that he felt like he owed you for something you didn't need to throw your life on the line for. After what seemed like a good, long while, he turned back to you and sighed. His eyes wandered over your face as he recalled his past, something he tried not to do regularly, and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. 
Again, he just sighed. “You better come through, you hear?” He warned, his hand raised and his finger pointed at you. “But if anythin’ happens, I ’spose you could call me Cooper…”
Your eyes lit up and you stared at him in awe. “Like…Cooper Howard…?” You gasped and smiled so wide you thought your cheeks would hurt. 
He scoffed. “Yeah, that's me, just don't go tellin’ people, you understand?” 
With a burst of excitement and a lapse in judgment, you threw your arms around him despite feeling the sting of your wound, and you hugged him. He didn't realize how big of a deal this was to you, your heart soared with delight at the news, and it was almost like an old part of your life was here, comforting you in tough times. “Oh, I'm definitely loving our chances now.”
The Ghoul just sighed and patted your shoulder awkwardly, wanting to support you in his change of heart. “I hope I don’t regret this…” he whispered to himself.
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The ringing in your ears was causing you to squeeze your eyes closed as you tried to focus on anything other than the sound, but it gradually increased and you did your best to try and remain out of the crossfire as you hid behind one of the walls inside the compound. 
You and Cooper had gotten halfway through the building already, both of you easily working together when it came to taking down the men you knew so well, but you felt nothing except a growing sense of freedom the more men fell. You'd grown up with a lot of them, sure, but none of that mattered once they had begun to follow Axton's orders and put you in harm's way. You wouldn't admit to it, but the satisfaction you felt when they would fall to the ground as they bled out almost was too wicked for you to take any joy in, but deep down, you relished it. 
According to your memory, you and Cooper had taken down about fifteen of them so far, and you only had fifteen– bang– fourteen more to go. Axton would be holed up in his pathetic excuse of a ‘panic room’, which you knew the code to, so he'd be the best to save for last. You peeked around the corner, your pistol in hand as you looked for any more on this floor. 
“I think they're all running up to protect their stash now, they're gonna be crowded in a room on the top floor. Axton would want all his riches to be the top priority, the greedy bastard.” You stepped out and pushed on with the Ghoul right beside you, following your lead as you guided him through the compound. 
“There any coverage between us and that door?” He asked, his gun still raised as he looked over at you. 
“Yeah, there's a double wall up there, no doors,” you replied and paused when you saw someone cowering in the corner. You gasped and ran to that person with a relieved expression. 
“Oh my gosh, Toby?” You knelt beside them and placed a hand on their shoulder. 
Cooper was about to interject, afraid to take up too much time dwelling on checking on survivors, but the person known as Toby looked up at you and their expression was shocked. It was a Ghoul, just like him; not yet feral. Toby smiled and stood up, greeting you with a tight hug. 
“Oh, you're back, you're back! I thought you would have been killed, or worse!” Toby sobbed as they hugged you, pulling you tighter and tighter. 
“Toby, you have to get out of here, go outside the compound, and stay hidden till we come out.”
“You're doing it, aren't you, you're finally taking him down?” The Ghoul looked relieved and terrified, and yet the smile that spread across their face spoke volumes. 
You smiled in return and nodded. “Yeah, Cooper and I are, now come on, go, I'll find you after, okay?” You gave him one last hug and pushed on with Cooper by your side. 
You'd finally made it to the last floor, and you were both greeted with heavy gunfire. You pressed back against the wall with Cooper on the other side, and he looked at you as he counted down on his fingers from five. After it ended, he spun toward the door and just began to blast the mercenaries, all shots landing where they were supposed to. You followed in behind him and tried to keep up, taking down any stragglers with your pistol as you kept it aimed high. Whenever you shot another, they'd look at you in horror, realizing that you were finally fighting back. Some of them seemed to know it would have happened eventually, others seemed betrayed that it was you, but you wore the same expression as you gunned them down. 
Remorseless.
You’d been counting down, naming each one of the men in Axton’s employ as you shot them, remembering their faces, recalling all the times they’d done you wrong. With each bullet put into them, you felt lighter, a heavy burden was released from your shoulders. But you knew you needed to get to your main problem before you would feel any semblance of comfort. But now that you thought about it, you felt comfort being here with Cooper, which was an odd thing to say considering he was there initially to bring you back to this hellhole. But you’d both grown on each other, though he would never admit to it, but you hoped that he would after all was said and done. 
Once the last man had fallen from a shot to his leg, Cooper walked up to him as he crawled away, then stepped on the wound and stepped down hard, and he laughed as the blood came pouring from the wound while the man cried out. The Ghoul didn’t let up as he leaned closer to the man.
“So cowpoke, where’s your boy, Axton, huh?” 
The man who you knew as Luther had looked up, horrified to see the hand cannon he held pointed directly at his face. “L-L-Look, he’s in there,” he pointed to the right where his room had been, “I don’t got nothin’ to do with what he did to her! I swear!”
Cooper looked over at you for confirmation, but you looked away from him, your face filled with unwanted recalled memories. All of his men stood by and turned a blind eye to the things he’d done to you and many others, you wouldn’t soon forget. Cooper turned back to the bleeding man and smirked slyly.
“Seems that she says otherwise, partner, guess it ain’t your lucky day,” he said with a faux frown as he raised the gun to his head and shot without hesitation. He walked back to you and stood beside you, looking at you in silence for a moment. “You ready to take on this son of a bitch?”
You swung your pack around and dug for your box of ammo, filled your gun, and then looked into the Ghoul’s eyes. “I’ve been ready. But you gotta be careful, he’ll have heavy weapons on him, so don’t let him get you off guard.”
“You don’t gotta worry about me, sweetheart, I think I already established that.” He reached a gloved hand toward your face, and it lingered there for a moment as it hovered near your cheek. Cooper decided against it and sighed, then looked back in the direction of the room.
You wondered what he wanted to say to you, but maybe it wasn't something meant for right now, instead, you two had something to deal with. You walked toward the room and typed in the code you distinctly memorized despite not being allowed inside, and the door swung open to reveal Axton with a large turbo Plasma rifle, the only one in his collection. He pointed it directly at you with a smile on his face. 
“Shoulda known it was you,” he scoffed. “After all I gave you here, a place to stay, food to eat, safety?”
“You didn't give me anything other than scars inside and out,” you spat back. “You had this coming, whether it was from me or someone else. You get what you get.”
His eyes darted to the Ghoul and he let out hearty laughter. “Oh, this is even better, what, employing a Ghoul to help you? Always were obsessed with them.”
“They're friends! Toby is my friend!” You yelled and shot off a round straight at him, but he immediately dropped and dodged it before it could hit him. He just laughed at you and shook his head.
“Always were a lousy shot. So, Ghoul, she employed you, promise you that you'd get whatever you want in here?” He waved around the room and scoffed again. “She lied. She ain't shit, and neither are you.”
“Well, actually…” Cooper said with a playful smile on his face, “I was the bounty hunter who planned on turnin’ her in but after seein’ so much of who you are? Gotta hand it to the little lady, I ain't impressed with how this is goin’.”
Axton just laughed and shook his head. “Oh, so you're betraying me, too? Damn, what did she do, give it up to you to get you to change your mind–”
Cooper let off a shot that hit him in the shoulder and blood spurted out, but he didn't go down, not yet. “Better watch your mouth, boy,” he warned. 
Axton groaned but laughed and shook his head. “Oh man, she did, didn't she?! It's all she's good at anyway.”
“Enough!” You screamed out as you began shooting at him, not taking into account that you should have kept a level head of things. You tried to hit him, but he shot the plasma rifle at your feet, which caused you to stumble back and fall on your ass. 
Axton laughed and grabbed a pistol, then aimed at you to finally silence you, but Cooper easily shot it out of his hand, causing it to stumble and fly off somewhere. He ran up on the man and slammed his foot hard into his stomach, and Axton lost his footing and fell. Cooper didn't give him time to recover, instead, he ran up and kicked him again, this time across the jaw. 
Axton let out a yell and spat blood out onto the floor, but he was just laughing, and as he looked back at you, sneering. “You think this is gonna make things better? I own you,” he said as he pointed at you, “and you ain't gonna finish this.”
“She might not, but I will,” Cooper said as he held his hand cannon up to his head. 
“No!” You shouted, your hand reaching out toward him as you stared at the Ghoul. Your face was soft as you looked at him, and sure you hadn't known him long, but the lengths he was going to just to protect you… it meant more to you than you could put into words. you walked up to Cooper, who stared over at you quizzically. “I wanna do it.” 
Axton just laughed again. “You're gonna do it? Better off letting the Ghoul do it.”
You swung your gun around toward him and aimed directly at his forehead as he sat on the ground, trying his best to pick up his pride. “I don't need anyone to do my job for me, Axton, you think I'm weak? But I'm not, I've taken out more of your men than you've taken out bounties. I'm better than you in every way.” 
This got the man howling in laughter as he sat there below you, staring up at your gun. He felt that you wouldn't do a damn thing, and you would just fall for his ways again. You would let him live and he'd take you as his captor once again. “Sure, sweetheart, whatever lies you fed yourself, you can keep on believing them all I know is I'm gonna fucking  kill you–”
Your finger pulled back, the explosion of his head and brain matter splattered everywhere, and his body fell back. No more words, no more threats, no more danger. You stared at the man who once beat you, hurt you, did unspeakable things to you, and you finally felt that weight release from your shoulders. Your body suddenly felt weak, you stumbled and almost fell, but Cooper was there in an instant. His arms enveloped you as he lowered you to the ground so you could take a moment. 
You stared down at him and huffed. “Only he can call me that,” you spat and continued to stare down at him.
Your eyes didn't leave the scene of Axton's decapitated body, it felt too good to be true, like a sick dream that you'd wake up from. But your companion placed a hand on your cheek, pulling your attention away from the gruesome scene and made you face him. There was contentment in the way you looked up at Cooper, a small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you stared up at him. 
“I did that, right?” You asked him in disbelief.
Cooper gave you a small smile. “Yeah, you did ya little killer, c’mon, let’s get you out of here.”
“What about your pay? There are chems too, you’re gonna need those, please, get what you need. I’ll be okay… I’ll sit over here, you grab all of what you can.” You wandered over to the corner and sat down on the floor, away from the large pool of blood slowly making its way around. 
You waited for Cooper to grab all that he could and gathered a large amount of chems, caps, and whatever else he could fit into his pack, then he sauntered up to you and grabbed your hand to pull you to your feet. “Alright then, I got all I could hold, got some for you too, you ready?”
You looked over at him and seemed taken off guard by his question. “What do you mean?” 
“Well, are you comin’ with me or not? Didn’t think you’d wanna stay here.”
Your eyes stared at him for a good while, but you weren’t sure what to say now that you were here, and now you had the opportunity to leave. “Really? You’d want me to go with you?” You asked softly. 
Cooper scoffed and looked off at the destruction you both caused. “I ain’t gonna leave you here alone, sweetheart. Not gonna lie, you’ve grown on me, and as much as I’ve done in this lifetime, I ain’t that much of a monster.”
You couldn’t help but laugh and look around the room, then back at him. “I guess that’s the best choice I could ever ask for, huh?” You asked softly, smiling wide. “So… you really mean it?”
Cooper turned around and shook his head with a smirk. “I mean if you’d rather stay here, then-”
You grabbed him and pulled at his shoulder, causing him to turn to face you. He looked surprised, but his eyes widened when you pulled him into a soft kiss. He didn’t pull away, he just stared at you as you pulled away from him, but you seemed much more reserved now. 
“Sorry… but yeah, let’s get going, if that’s still on the table…”
The Ghoul just laughed and reached up to ruffle your hair. “Well, it ain’t all canned peaches and marmalade up here, but I ‘spose havin’ you as company will lighten it up a little.”
You placed your gun in your pack and sighed as you slipped it over your shoulder, but the smile you wore after kissing Cooper was one that you’d wear for quite a while. “I think I can agree with that.”  
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scrcrwfsh · 7 months
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i got soup
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
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personal pillow
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader
Summary: You confront avengers when they start teasing Bucky about being too soft.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: established relationship, avengers tease bucky, he's a grumpy old man, fluff
Author’s note: soft bucky is my everything, and I literally cannot imagine him acting another way.
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Bucky Barnes wasn't the most affectionate and nice person on earth. Always grumpy and with an attitude, didn’t like physical touch, and hated being vulnerable and soft. However, when you were alone in your room, he was a completely different man. 
The only thing that he loved more than you, food, and old music was sleep. He hated it right after the Winter Soldier program was removed because of the violent and dark nightmares, but you were the solution to all of his problems. 
He loved sleeping with you. On you, to be exact. 
He accidentally discovered it once when he just threw himself onto your bed and somehow laid with his head on your stomach. 
You didn't know why your boyfriend liked it so much, but since that day he always ended up on your stomach, your boobs, or between your thighs with hands wrapped around your body, and it was almost impossible to drag him away. You always ran your fingers through his fluffy hair in soothing motions to ease the tension in his body, and it worked every single time. Bucky slept like a baby in your arms. 
Today he left early in the morning for training with Sam, but then he had a lot of paper work and something that needed to be done in the city, so you didn’t really talk to or see him. He only left a kiss on your forehead while you were still in bed and sent you a few messages throughout the day. 
It was your day off, and you didn’t feel like doing anything special or being productive. So you brought a fluffy comforter from your bed, a cup of hot chocolate, and sat in the common room to watch a movie on a big ass screen that Tony bought to show off.
When the film almost ended and you were already kind of sleepy, you heard firm footsteps from the hall. The tall and big body was standing in the doorframe, but you didn’t see your boyfriend’s face yet; it was pretty dark in the room.
“Hey, baby, how was your day?” You paused your movie and squinted to see Bucky. 
“Fucking amazing. A bunch of assholes and tons of reports that they sent me last minute.” He grumbled, coming closer to you. “Let’s go, I need my personal pillow or I won’t fall asleep.” 
You tried to hold back a laugh when you finally saw his face. Tired and frowned with pouty lips like a child. Bucky was painfully cute when he was a little bit mad and annoyed, and you didn’t want to do anything more than pinch his cheeks and kiss all of his face.
“You look so cute, gosh.” You smiled, biting your lip. “But I have only... fifteen minutes of my movie left, and I really want to finish it today. Do you want to lay on me here for now?” You opened the covers and pointed at your belly. 
Bucky stood there silently for a few seconds, still with a frown on his face.
“I don’t want these douchebags to see us here.”
“They won’t; Steve is on the mission, Natasha is already in her room, and Sam went on a date. C’mon, I’ll massage your head.” That was everything you needed to convince your boyfriend to give up. He took off his shoes and laid on top of you with his head on your stomach and hands around your waist. 
You covered your bodies with a duvet and stroked his hair, brushing it over and over again with your fingers. You felt that Bucky pulled up your shirt a little bit, and as soon as his cheek met with your warm skin, he heavily sighted, finally feeling safe and calm.
“That's okay, baby.” You cooed, massaging his scalp. “Do you want to talk about your day? What made you upset?” 
“No, just want to feel you, doll. Missed you so much.” He mumbled against your stomach and closed his eyes as your soft touches made his body almost melt into yours. 
“I missed you too. I’ll just finish my film and we’ll go to sleep, ‘kay?” Bucky just slightly nodded, already feeling too sleepy to actually say something. 
It didn’t take him too much time to fall asleep completely. Your gentle scratches and the way you rolled his hair around your finger, along with the muffled sound of the TV and soft cover on top of him, did their work, and Bucky was peacefully snoring on you in a span of a few seconds. 
You weren’t much better than him; your eyes started closing as soon as the credit scene began, and you didn’t have enough power in you to resist it, especially when a giant, hot human pillow was sleeping on top of you. 
So you just gave up. 
The first thing that you heard when you woke up was mumbled talk and laughter. Your eyes snapped open because your brain completely forgot that you, in fact, weren’t in your room or bed.
The common room was filled with almost everyone. For fuck’s sake, when was the last time you saw that many Avengers together in one room? And now all of them were sitting on the other couches and armchairs, looking at you and laughing. Well, they weren’t looking at you; they were looking at Bucky, who was still glued to your body. 
You quickly sat straight, now completely awake. The movements disturbed Bucky’s peaceful sleep, making him grumble and try to get you back under him.
“I didn’t know that Cyborgs could be so clingy.” The most annoying voice Bucky could’ve possibly heard in the morning filled his ears, and he lost every last piece of sleep in his body, sitting up on the couch. 
“What the fuck are you doing here, Willson? All of you, in fact.” Bucky looked around the room, seeing Sam, Nat, Wanda, Tony, and Clint with shit-eating smirks on their faces; Thor, who looked just happy to be involved; and Steve and Bruce, who actually felt uncomfortable to be there.
“Sorry, Buck, they just...” Steve wanted to apologize but was disturbed by Tony.
“Sam just told all of us to come here a few minutes ago because he had something hilarious. And look! The strong and scary Winter Soldier is being a softie for his girlfriend.” Tony laughed, almost dropping his cup of coffee. You didn’t even expect that, but you felt a sudden wave of anger going through your body because you were already sick of everyone pushing Bucky’s buttons. 
“Or maybe all of you should just mind your own business? You both would actually know something about Bucky if you tried anything besides making fun of him or trying to get him angry. You don’t even understand how fucking hard it is for him to communicate after everything that happened, and all of you are getting on my nerves. Just a bunch of children, I swear.” You growled, standing up and grabbing Bucky’s hand to drag him away. 
Everyone was surprised by your words, and even Bucky looked at you with a weird expression on his face but still stood up, holding your hand. 
“Sweets, it’s just a joke—” Natasha started.
“No, it’s not. I love you, Nat, I really do, but it’s not funny.” You looked around the room. “Y’all probably don’t understand the effect that your words  have, but I see in private what none of you can. And when I tell you that your mockery and jokes make everything worse, I really mean it.” Bucky awkwardly shifted near you under all of the eyes that were glued to him. He felt exposed by the way everyone saw how he showed his affection to you and that he, in fact, was a really touchy and sensitive person. “C’mon, Buck, everything’s okay.” You looked back at him with your usual soft eyes, and his whole attention was now focused completely on you. 
Everyone saw how Bucky’s body language changed when you talked to him, and even if someone like Tony or Sam couldn’t admit it out loud, the thought of being too harsh on Bucky appeared in their heads. 
Without any further words, you lead your boyfriend out of the common room, leaving the Avengers in an awkward silence. 
The comfort of your and Bucky’s shared room made you deeply inhale as soon as the door was closed behind you two. Before you could even say something, two strong hands wrapped around you from the back, and Bucky buried his face into your neck.
“Thank you, doll.” Your hand reached behind you to gently stroke Bucky's hair. “You didn’t have to do it, really. I got used to their words.” He squeezed you tighter, pressing his chest into your back.
“That’s not okay, baby. I’m sick of that. You may not say it to me or even admit it to yourself, but I see that it hurts you.” You turned around in his hands, placing your own on both sides of his face. “But that’s okay that you want to cuddle, to sleep on me, to be held. Really. There is nothing wrong with it. I’m really honored to be the person who is allowed to see your soft side.”
“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, doll, you can’t even fucking imagine,” Bucky whispered before leaning forward to kiss you.
“I love you, James.”
“Can we stay here today? I don’t really want to talk with anyone besides my sweet and protective girl.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his teasing tone. 
“Of course we can, Buck.” That was your last word before Bucky lifted you off the ground, put you on the soft blankets of your bed, and climbed on top of you, happily wrapping around your body and falling asleep. 
3K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 5 months
Note
NEED A PART 2 OF MMA TOJI RNNNN
Pt 1. here
Contains: fem reader, angst to comfort, fluff, lots of screaming & crying, manhandling, Toji isn't the best with his feelings, confessions, mutual pining, cunnilingus, Toji cums in his pants, soooo much dirty talk, sweet sweet lovey dovey filth, hickeys, biting, crack :3
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
You woke up from your nap with the grating jingle of your phone ringing on your nightstand. You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eys, glancing at the clock- 9:13 pm. "Fuck, I must've been tired." You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck as you grabbed your phone right when the caller ID of Toji's assistant disappeared from your screen. It was then that you noticed how your phone had over 35 missed messages from the team, 5 plus calls, and even a text from your best friend, Shoko.
"What the fuuuuck?" You whispered into the room, standing up to flick on your light, your phone started ringing once more- Toji's assistant was calling again. You slid the green check over, answering the call, "Are you with Toji right now?" Her rushed voice spoke through the phone. "What? No, I was sleeping." You answered, sitting back down on your bed as you sat criss crossed on top of your sheets. "Fuck, he won't answer his phone." She cursed, the sound of a car revving could be heard in the background- why was she driving this late?
"You're scaring me, what's going on?" You said, swallowing the lump in your throat as you fiddled with the hem of your shorts. "I'm so sorry babe, it's okay, but I'm going to need you to stay off of your phone, I'm on the way to pick you up now." She said as calmly as she could muster. "Please tell me whats going on, is Toji okay?" You asked, holding your hand over your chest as you felt a sort of nauseousness come over you. "I don't know what that asshole is doing, he's probably drunk or something." She responded, cursing under her breath some more as she finished.
What the fuck did that mean? You put her on speaker and swiped out of the call, not wanting to give her any indication that you were scrolling through your phone after she just told you not to. The first message you checked was from Shoko.
Shoko: Is that video real?
Shoko: Babe, pick up your phone, what the fuuuck is going on
Shoko: This is not the time to be napping, fuck, pick up right now
You scrolled through was seemed like an endless row of texts from her that all read the same thing, until one caught your eye, making your heart sink to your stomach.
Shoko: Why didn't you tell me you were hooking up with Toji?
Your heart started beating out of your chest, you covered your mouth as you felt something rise up your throat, your face felt hot as you took in her words. How did she know you and Toji had been hooking up? Your swiped over to the work group chat that Toji was excluded from and started from the top.
Main manager: Someone get ahold of Toji NOW, and let me know the moment you do, he's playing with his fucking future here.
The thread continued with your coworkers all chattering about Toji, most of them saying how he wasn't responding, this and that- a couple girls you were close with were asking in the chat how you were doing. You were going to be sick. You saw one of his managers say something about a Twitter video in the thread. Faster than the speed of light, you opened up the blue bird icon, and your feed was immediately flushed with snippets of a video you had partook in earlier that day, of you and Toji fucking in the PT room, the most noticeable account that was posting them being Toji's himself.
It was only then that you registered Toji's assistant had been talking to you as her repeated call of your name left her lips and entered your brain. "Fuck." You covered your mouth with your hand and rushed to the bathroom, your name could be heard yelling out to you through the speaker as you barely made it into the restroom in time. Coughing as your knees lay next to the toilet bowl, you heaved air into your lungs as you tried to process what was going on. You were so scared; a million questions rattled through your brain.
Why would Toji post that now? The two of you had been doing this and filming it for months, so why now? Why could no one get ahold of him? Were you going to get fired? We're you safe right now? Toji has been the sex symbol of the MMA world for years, he had too many fangirls to keep track of, surely they had it out for your head now. You groaned into the small space of the bathroom, flushing the toilet you stood up on shaky legs and walked back into your bedroom.
Toji's assistant must've heard your breathing because she called out to you again, "Are you okay? I heard the toilet flush. Fuck I'm going to kill him I swear I-" Your weak voice cut her off, "I gotta go." You said, not hearing her protests as you clicked the big red button on the screen, ending the call. Anger, confusion, and sadness along with all of these unanswered questions consumed your entire being as you opened up Toji's chat and spilled your guts out to him.
You screamed, your voice cracking as fat tears rolled down your face, curses coming out broken as you choked on your words; and to think you were actually starting to like him. Of course, he was like all the others. You threw your phone against the wall, a loud thumb resounding against the hard surface as you buried your head in your hands, sobbing into the silent room as you waited to hear the knock of Toji's assistant through the wall.
--
Toji doesn't think he's ever felt so frantic in his life, even amidst all the chaos that would come with showing his face in public, especially around what was going on right now, he forgot to throw on a face mask as he ran into the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the numbers to decline, hitting the bottom floor.
How was he going to fix this? Could he fix this? He swore he would never throw another punch again if he couldn't make this right, fuck being the world champion MMA fighter, that didn't mean anything if you weren't there by his side. He was thrown back to earlier that day when he had invited you over to his house for drinks, feeling dejected when you had to decline, saying you had a lot of work to do and errands to run- and so little time to do so. He couldn't help but think how things would've been if you had come over for drinks.
The two of you would've drank some expensive liquor he got from some rich old man at a company dinner, probably bickered; as the two of you did. He bet you would've been rolling around together in his sheets right now, continuing what had occurred earlier in the day. He ultimately would've missed the text he got from the strange number from being so absolved in you-- or maybe the two of you would've been cuddling by then, your naked chest pressed to his as some show played in the background of his too-large bedroom while he sipped on the expensive liquor and felt your heartbeat against his skin.
There was always the possibility he could've seen the message after the two of you were finished, and clicked on it anyways; at least then you wouldn't be thinking he betrayed your trust and had leaked the video himself, and you could've delt with it together.
He couldn't stop thinking about how uncharacteristically sad and weak you sounded. The anger still being evident in your voice, but the sorrow and betrayal were thick in your tone, you sounded utterly defeated. He had never heard you curse his name in the way you did through the phone. You really sounded like you meant it. By the time he came to, he was already halfway to your house, he had no idea how he had gotten so far and not realized. He could have been running people down in the street and passing through every red light and not have known.
He prayed he would make it to your house before anyone else did, after all, he knows all the shortcuts to your home, he had spent a lot of time there over the past months you two had been doing whatever it was you were doing. He swerved past cars, ignoring his blinker signal as he raced through gaps in the lines of the road between vehicles, not being conscious of his well-being as the only thought on his mind was to get to you.
He pulled into your housing complex, parked his very expensive car on the side of the road, and didn't even bother locking it as he made a b-line for your front door. You were still crumpled on your bed and crying when you heard the frantic knock on your door, signaling to you that Toji's assistant had arrived. You pulled yourself off of your now tear stained sheets and wiped your wet cheeks before you started making your way for the front door.
The pounding continued, making you scrunch your eyebrows together in annoyance. You know she had no idea how to know if you heard her, but you were feet away from the door, have some patience. With a sigh, you turned the handle to your door and swung it open, stepping to the side to let her in, when you froze. Standing in front of you was none other than Toji himself, he was panting like he had just finished running a marathon, his hair was damp, his shirt was wrinkled, and he looked more of a mess than you did.
For some reason, Toji was the last person you were expecting to see, hearing about his disappearance from everyone and all. You registered his presence too late as he forced himself through the doorway and into your home. "Toji-" You started, feeling the anger start to rise, and the tears start to form in your sockets. "Let me talk." He said, quietly, shutting the door behind him as he took slow and careful steps toward you as you backed away.
You felt like the prey, and he was a predator the way he was stalking your movements. "Ill scream right now." You said as serious as you've ever said anything, keeping your eyes on him, unwavering. "It wasn't me-" He tried to speak. "Get the fuck out of my house!" You yelled, not wanting to hear him out. He called out your name softly, followed by a please. "Toji, get the fuck out!!" You repeated, pointing your hand angrily to the door behind him. Your sudden movements broke his stalking spell as he took long strides quickly up to you. "Stop!" you yelled again, louder this time.
You turned away from him to excape to another room, but you were too late. He grabbed your arm with a force that scared you, keeping your body in place as he wrapped the arm around your body, placing his other hand firmly over your mouth as he pressed you back against his chest, keeping you in place there. You tried yelling against his palm, curling your arms up to dig your nails into his forearms as you wiggled against his iron grip.
He knew this was absolutely the wrong way to go about this, but he had never done anything like this before, his emotions were too overwhelming. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispered, holding you against him, making sure his hand placement on your hip wasn't hurting you too bad as he brought you down on the floor to your knees, all the while his hand stayed over your mouth as tears flowed freely down your face, curing into his hand.
"It wasn't me, baby it wasn't me who posted that video." He said softly, keeping his hand over your mouth while he got his words out, making sure you were listening. "I would never do that to you." He continued, while you gripped his large forearm with a force he didn't even know was possible for you to exert, breathing heavily as your screams and attempts to excapre from his arms died down.
How were you supposed to believe him? A part of you really wanted to, Toji did not seem like the kind of man who would do this, so boldly if anything. Why would he post your sex tape on his main account unless he was batshit crazy? But you knew there were definitely secrets this man had under his belt, which made you skeptical as you tried to listen to his words, taking deep breaths in through your nose to get your emotions under control.
"My phone got hacked, that's the reason no one could reach me, the reason you couldn't reach me." he made a point to emphasize. "I clicked on some stupid fucking link because my ego felt bruised.." He paused, to which you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion at his explanation, but listened nonetheless. "And my phone shut down. I got a call from my manager cussing me out for posting that shit, but I explained everything to him." He said softly, keeping his iron grip on your body.
The tears still flowed over your cheeks, dampening his fingers as he spoke, "When I saw your messages I came over here as fast as I could, I'm sorry for not responding I-" He paused, swallowing a lump in his throat, "I couldn't let you think I would do this to you, I had to know you were okay." He said, feeling his face heat up at the words he was saying, the man had never been so vulnerable in his life.
He kept his hand around your mouth for a couple moments after, letting you absorb his words before his hand fell from your mouth, the arm around your body loosening in tandem. "Never grab me like that again." We're the first words that fell from your lips, making him wince at your harsh tone. "Where is your phone?" You asked next. "My house." He responded quickly, trying to gauge your reaction now that you had heard the truth.
You stood from his grasp, his body staying on the floor as he watched you get up and walk forward a couple steps, looking like you were wiping your eyes while you faced away from him before you turned around to look at him, and with a quivering lip you sighed, sliding your body down the wall adjacent from him, only a couple feet in front of him as you tipped your head back against the wall and let the hot tears roll down your flushed cheeks, "Fuck." Your voice came out cracked, "What am I going to do." You cried, covering your mouth as you kept your eyes shut, sobbing in front of him.
"The team is meeting at my house, we'll figure this out." He spoke, trying to reassure you, but his words only resulted in you snapping at him. "Easy for you to say! Everyone is in love with you! Do you have ANY idea how many people would kill to sleep with you?" You said, dropping your chin as you raised up from your spot on the floor, now standing in front of him.
He called your name, slowly standing from the floor as well as you continued yelling at him, "Those people are going to hunt me down for this Toji! Fuck! This is such a fucking mess, I should've never slept with you in the first place." Toji's breath caught in his throat as your words hit him harder than any punch he's ever received in the ring. You continued pacing in front of him, running your hands through your hair and cursing under your breath.
"You really mean that?" He said, making you stop your pacing. "You would really take all of that back?" He was trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice, but you were too overwhelmed to notice it anyway. "Well we wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't kissed me all those months ago would we?" You spat, looking him up and down. His eyebrows scrunched together as his eyes squinted at you, "This isn't my fault." He spoke, tilting his head at you.
"Who's fault is it then?" You challenged, walking up to him and placing your chest inches from his. "YOU hired me on the team, YOU kissed me first, YOU took the first video, YOU started this." You said, poking your nail into his chest with every point you made. "So were just going to skip over how YOU accepted this job, YOU kissed me back, YOU begged me to take the video, this is not my fault!" He yelled back, shaking his head at you.
"Well, It's sure as hell not mine!" You defended yourself, backing up from his body as you shook your head in disbelief. "I never fucking said it is!" He yelled your name, "This is not out fault!" He tried to keep his composure, but you were making it so fucking hard. "Then who's is it then, huh? Who's is it?" You challenged, tilting your head at him and squinting your eyes as you waited for a response that never came.
"That's what I thought If we just never fucking started this in the first place, we. wouldn't. be. here." You spat through your teeth, making the vein on his forehead pop out in annoyance as he felt his heart sink to the bottom of his feet. Maybe he was wrong about you, he really thought there might be something here but the way you were so willing to wish so easily that you never started this with him in the first place was making him rethink that. "Fuck!" You shoved his chest when he didn't answer, walking into your bedroom to excape this conversation, you felt like you were going to be sick again.
"Where are you going?" He yelled, walking after you as you made your way through the doorway into your personal space. "Anywhere if it means you're not there." You said back, biting your lip between your teeth as you tried to take deep breaths to calm your angry stomach. You weren't sure you were even mad at Toji for this, you just needed someone to blame. He was right after all, you took on this job, you chose to cross this line with him, you consented to everything, but the thought that you might even be a little responsible for this was driving you to deflect, deflect, deflect.
"That's it then? We're done talking?" He said, following closely behind you as you distanced yourself from him with the bet between you. "Toji I don't know what else you want me to say." You said, waving your arms out in front of you as you sighed, shaking your head at him. "Tell me you don't regret this." He said, the sadness returning to his voice. "Tell me you don't regret the last 12 fucking months we spent doing this just because of this." He said like the current situation was nothing.
You laughed incredulously, finding no humor in the situation, "This, could very well be the end of my career." You said, ignoring his first demand. "This might be nothing to some big hot shot celebrity like you, whos sitting on some fucking gold mine, but I'm a little different Toji, I'm not some famous celebrity who can just never work again after this and be fine." You said, your lip quivering as you spoke.
"That's not what I meant." He tried to interject, to no avail as you continued ranting. "Who is going to hire the slut who whored herself out for the number one MMA fighter in the world? No company wants that kind of baggage." You said, shaking your head. "Don't say that shit about yourself." He said, looking sternly into your eyes. "That's all they fucking see Toji, that's all everyone thinks I am." You said, huffing out a curt laugh once more.
"Who cares what a bunch of strangers think about you? They don't matter!" He tried to reason. "You don't fucking get it! You're not listening to me!" You responded, raising your voice. "No, You're not listening to me!" He yelled loudly, catching you off guard at the desperation in his voice. "It doesn't matter what they think because I know. I know what you are. Do you want me to spell it out for you? Huh?" He yelled, his voice cracking as your crying picked up again, hot tears running down your face.
"I love you, okay? I'm in love with you." He yelled, his chest heaving. "Do you see me talk to anyone the way I talk to you? I don't even fucking look at anyone besides you." He said, exasperated, watching the fat tears roll down your cheeks as you watched him with a slack jaw as he made his way to your side of the bed. "The first person I look at when I finish a match, it's always you. It will always be you." He said, grabbing your face in his hands as you stared up at him, silently sobbing, your hands coming to rest on the small of his wasit.
"So tell me you don't regret what we've built, tell me." He said, clenching his jaw under the weight of his teeth. Your red eyes gazed up at him, iris swirling with confusion, sadness, anger, reciprocation. You were thrown back to what started all this as you stood on your tippy toes and crashed your lips with his, hot tears flowing freely from your eyes.
Toji inhaled sharply, wiping the hot tears from your cheeks before dropping his hands to your waist he pressed you against his body, moving your lips together needily. You whined shortly into his mouth, smoothing your hands over to the front of his chest as you started pulling up his shirt, trying to get him naked. Toji understood fully, pulling away from the kiss, he yanked his shirt off of his body in one swift movement and placed his large hands back onto your hips, connecting your lips again.
Toji walked the both of you back a couple feet, bumping the back of your shins against the bottom of the bed frame. You wrapped your arms around his strong neck and let him pick up your body, his hands coming to grip under your thighs as he wrapped your legs around his torso and climbed onto your bed, laying your back down on the sheets.
The two of you gasped and panted into the other's mouth through the messy kiss, quiet moans could be heard from the both of you when Toji started humping his hips shallowly into your clothed cunt, to which you wrapped your legs tighter around his large frame, encouraging the feeling. "I don't-" kiss "regret this-" you whispered against his lips, opening your eyes that locked onto his darker ones, blurry from the proximity. "Yeah?" He breathed into your cavern, one of his hands coming down to pull your legs off of his waist so he could pull your night shorts off.
"Yeah~" You wined, running your hands over his toned chest while he leaned back on his heels and pulled your shorts and panties down your body in one swift movement, exposing your already-soaked cunt to his eyes. Toji wrapped his arms around your thighs and pushed you higher up on the bed, making room for himself as he slotted himself between your legs, gripping around the fat of your thighs, he let you sling them over his shoulders as he pressed soft but needy kisses to the insides of your thighs.
"Toji~" You whimpered, keeping your swollen eyes on his as he looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky. He tightened his hold on your thighs, squeezing the fat in comfort, "It's just us baby, let me take care of you." his deep voice spoke softly. The rapidness in which you were experiencing all of your emotions at once was giving you whiplash, but Toji's comforting thumb rubbing your skin was helping you ground yourself.
You nodded, and with that, Toji vacuumed his lips to your clit and got to work. "Ffuuck~" You wined breathily, tipping your head back against your familiar sheets-- heavy eyes shutting in pleasure as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive bud, humming against it. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, soaking in each and every one of your reactions. He released your clit with a pop; sticking out his tongue he dragged it through your folds before bringing the wet appendage back up to your clit and drawing his name across it.
Toji started humping his hips into the mattress, not being able to handle your soft moans echoing into his ears and his alone. He felt like the two of you were the only people in the world, he hoped you were feeling the same. He knew he couldn't fix this situation with the snap of his fingers, and it was sure to come with some level of consequence for the both of you, but he didn't want you to think about any of that right now, he just wanted you to focus on his tongue, and the pleasure it was bringing you.
He wished he could make you feel like this all the time, you looked like you were experiencing complete bliss, the way your eyes were screwed shut and your head was thrashing, you looked like you were in another world mentally from his tongue. Toji felt extra sensitive at this moment; maybe a combination of the confession and your sweet moans, the way you were squeezing his head with your thighs, your taste, all of it was making him feel like a virgin.
The mattress was also working him over surprisingly well. The ache in his cock was so strong, so he appreciated any sort of relief, he just didn't expect humping the bed sheets like some pre-teen would feel so good-- once again he thinks he had you to thank for most of what he was feeling. He couldn't help but wonder if he could get off like this; losing himself in your cunt as his thoughts kept rolling, he rapidly flicked his tongue on your sensitive bud, keeping his eyes on your flushed face.
"Right there- Fuck- Toji-" You wined, thrashing your head back and forth against the mattress, you laced your hands with one of his on your thigh, the other threading itself through his hair, still damp from his shower, as you gripped onto the strands for support. He headed your words, rolling his warm tongue over your clit as he drew shapes and words onto the bud, loving the way your back arched and the muscles of your thighs tensed under his hands.
He groaned into your wetness when you started rolling your hips against his face, moaning 'mhm''s into your cunt at his approval. He knew you were getting close when you started holding your breath, your moans pausing for a period of time before a larger one echoed throughout the room, another telltale sign being the way your thighs started to shake. "B-baby I'm gonna cum- 'ur gonna make me cum-" You whimpered, squeezing his hand in yours as he rapidly brought you to your high.
The man between your legs pinched his eyebrows together while he watched you fall apart on his tongue. He Humped his hips against the bed he felt himself feel dizzy watching your eyes roll back in your head as you repeated his name like a mantra. He felt his own orgasm crash over him as well, right when you gripped your nails into his hair and started riding out your own.
He moaned loudly into your cunt, sending delicious vibrations through your pussy as he worked you through the shocks of your orgasm. Toji's eyes were rolling back in his head as he felt rope after rope be realized into his pants, firmly pressing his hips into the bed for as much relief as possible as he shook his head against your wetness, letting you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm out on his tongue. "Fuck-" You heaved, releasing your grip on his hair you pulled is back to push your own out of your face, blinking away the fuzziness your orgasm created in your eyes.
Toji left one more kiss against your oversensitive clit before pulling away and raising his body to sit back on his heels, your thighs now slung over his more muscular ones. Your half-lidded eyes dropped to his crotch, noticing the twitching from under his sweats as a dark grey spot had formed right where his cock was. "Toji, did you-" You started, raising your eyes back up to meet his and blushing at the sight.
Toji was breathing heavily, his jaw dropped in a small o as his eyes flicked between your own, and the mess he made between your thighs. That same mess was coating the entire bottom half of his face, some on his nose and upper cheeks from how sloppily he had been eating you out. "Didn't know you liked eating my pussy that much." You smiled at him, wrapping the naked bottom half of your body around his hips as he leaned into you, placing his strong forearms by the sides of your head.
He leaned down to the crook of your neck and started leaving slow, teasing kisses against the skin, making you gasp softly. "Has there ever been a time we fucked that I didn't eat you out first?" He asked, his hot breath tickling your neck as he used his hand to tip your chin toward the ceiling to give himself more room. "Even when we have five minutes to get our shit done," kiss "I still eat your cunt out first don't I?" His deep voice vibrates into your skin, making you moan at his words.
"Yes, you- you do-" You respond, letting him spoil you with his heavy neck kisses. "I love makin' you feel good. Makes me so fuckin' hard to see you squirmin' like that cos of me." He continues, shallowly humping his semi-hard on against your naked cunt as he speaks. "Every time I feel you cum on my fingers before I fuck you." A bite could be felt on your neck, pulling the skin towards him before he let it drop back into place, "Makes me feel like I'm goin' fuckin' crazy." You whimper, grinding your hips into his as you meet his slow thrusts.
"Love hearin' you too," You giggle when he kisses a ticklish spot. "Okay I get it, you're in love with me~" You tease, running your hands through his air as he sucks purple bruises into your neck. "It's just that though." He says, pulling his head away to look at you directly. "I think I'm falling in love with you."
You've never seen the expression that was currently lying across Toji Fushiguro's features right now, it didn't look wrong; just unusual, and you think you could get used to it. He looked so bashful, almost pouting as he blushed down at you; he looked so soft. He leaned down for a kiss slowly, the two of you looking between your lips and eyes before-
*ring ring ring* ..... *ring ring ring .....
Toji dropped his head back into your neck defeatedly with a sigh, he almost forgot what was happening right now, you had that effect on him. You laughed at his reaction, feeling him leave weak kisses against your shoulder as you reached over to the nightstand and grabbed your phone, sliding the green button across the screen as you held it up to your ear.
"Hello?" You spoke into the receiver, wincing when the grating voice of Toji's assistant screamed through the phone. "I'm here, tell me why Toji's car is outside your house right now?! Are you with him?! Why did you not tell anyone!!" She yelled, Even from Toji's place on the opposite side of your neck, he could still hear her words loud and clear. "He got here not too long ago, and wanted to explain everything to me." You answered, running your hands through his hair absentmindedly as you spoke.
"Explain?! Explain what?? Why he leaked a fucking sex tape on a major social media sight, ON HIS PUBLIC ACCOUNT??" She yelled. You had to admit, her rage on your behalf felt nice, you always did like her, but you couldn't help but giggle at her words. After a brief back-and-forth explaining the situation to her, she sighed, and you heard her car start up again in the background. "Next time Toji goes MIA and the entire team is going batshit trying to find him, please at least let someone know." She sighed, feeling a headache come on.
Toji snatched the phone from your hand and pressed it against his ear. "We were a little busy." He said, rendering her completely speechless for a couple beats. You made sure to smack him upside the head, wrangling the phone back from him you muttered out a quick 'sorry' before letting her process Toji's words some more. "I don't want to know what that means and don't tell me. I don't wanna be liable for any of this shit, I don't know anything." She deadpanned, making you laugh into the receiver.
"Oh, so this is funny to y-" Another loud sigh could be heard from miles away from the intensity of it leaving her lips, "The two of you meet the team at Toji's in ten, hanging up now." She said before the dial tone blared through your phone. You turned your phone off, your body going limp against the sheets as you were brutally forced back into reality. If you had it your way you would stay in this bed forever, embraced in Toji's arms as the two of you lived your whole life out in this one room.
With a groan, he begrudgingly rolled himself off of you, walking over to your desk he grabbed your purse and turned back around to watch you sling your legs off the side of the bed and start sliding on your pants; the expression on your face was distant. Toji placed your bag on the mattress before he slotted himself between your legs and held your hands in his face, making you look at him. "It's going to be okay." He said, nodding his head. You shut your eyes, feeling the nausea start to creep back over you, Toji's words aided in keeping most of it down.
"Fuck, I don't wanna go" You said, leaning your heavy head into the side of his palm. He wasn't used to seeing you so soft, but it pulled all the right strings in his heart. He knew this was an absolutely horrid situation, but he couldn't help but want to engrain this exact moment into his brain forever. "It'll be alright, well get through this together." He reassured. You cracked your eyes open and stared at him blankly, pouting your lip at him.
"I meant I didn't wanna be seen with you and that very obvious cum stain on your pants, but that part too--sure, we'll figure this out." You said, forcing back a smile. Toji licked his teeth before the warmth of his hands were gone, and he walked over to where you kept your pants in your closet, you laughed as his figure disapeared into the open walk in closet, his wet pants and boxers being comedically thrown out of the room as he found something suitable to put on instead.
He walked out in a pair of your plaid pajama pants, that were about a foot and a half too short on him. "You know what, I'm glad your sex tape got leaked." He said, placing his hands on his hips as he looked at you all too seriously for the silly outfit he was adorned in. You covered your mouth as you burst into a fit of laughter, the scene made Toji internally sigh in relief, he knew you were trying to play tough to protect yourself from all those scary emotions, so he was glad to see you genuinely smile tonight.
"Let's go big boy." You said, throwing your bad over your shoulder and swiping your phone from the desk as you headed for the entrance of your bedroom. Toji followed hot on your heels, bumping into you when you stopped in your tracks and turned your head over your shoulder. "I think I'm falling in love with you too." You spoke into the quiet air, welcoming the feeling of Toji's warm hand rubbing on your arm before you trekked forward and made your way out the door to Toji's penthouse to meet the team.
Bonus scene:
You and Toji walk into his main room, every member of Toji's team sitting in his living room already as the chatter bustles loudly, computer keyboard clicking resonating through the room, men yelling at poor representatives on phones mixing with the conversation.
The room goes completely silent as soon as one of them looks your way, the rest of their eyes following; you swear a pin dropping could be heard.
They took in your states, Toji, his hair slightly wavy, slightly straight, sticking in every direction. The pants he wore bursting at the seams of the thighs as the ankle of the pant rested bellow his knee. You, adorned in black leggings and some band T-shirt, two different colored and different length socks hugged your ankles, your entire body wrapped in a snug looking grey robe- and of course, the dark purple hickeys that scattered across the expanse of your neck.
Toji raised an eyebrow, his lip curling upwards as his deep voice spoke. "Somethin' on my face?"
3K notes · View notes
quartergremlin · 7 months
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Yall got a little too much faith in leo. this guy is clueless.
first/previous/next
transcript:
Yuichi:
No. Absolutely not.
Leo:
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? Don’t you like me? Aren’t I your best friend?
Y:
Yes, unfortunately. But you really should go home.
Leonardo, why are you here right now?
L:
Isn’t it enough that you get to see my handsome face? You gotta know why too?
Y:
It’s kind of hard when you’re shoving your face into my comforter.
And here’s your chance to make me feel like an asshole for kicking you out.
L:
S’never stopped you before.
I guess I’m like… a girl or whatever.
Y:
Oh. Um. Okay? Congratulations? Did you have another name picked out oooor...
L:
No! Not like that! Its-
I've been a girl this whole time. Apparently, dad just guessed – and everyone else knew! And just didn’t tell me!
And-I know. I know it doesn’t matter – I'm being stupid.
Y:
I mean- that doesn’t sound stupid. Id be upset too.
And I don’t want to tell you… what you’re thinking or feeling. But this seems like some pretty intense dysphoria. So maybe your dad got it right?
And your nesting is obviously not helping, honestly-
L:
My what.
Y:
What do you mean “your what”?
Leo:
reeks of lemon-scented cleaner
Yuichu's hoodie
Donnie's board shorts
Raph's bear
made a nest in his bed
Meme:
Yuichi: this is your hormone level. It's pretty normal for someone turtle-PMSimg. You'll be fine in a week.
Extra 1:
Yuichi: as a lizard owner, clocked Leo's nesting immediately.
Leo: Didn't read Donnie's book, so still clueless.
Extra 2:
Yuichi enters to sitcom clapping and cheering.
2K notes · View notes
gojos-thot-patrol · 7 months
Text
a let my demons get a little silly with it here
Now Loading, Kinktober Week Two...
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Synopsis: Ryomen always got what he wanted, it was a simple rule of life. And ever since he caught your scent, you were all that he wanted- your previous bond mark be damned. And you must have wanted him too. Why else would your window be open in the middle of your heat? Kinks: Omegaverse, Breeding, Marking, Knotting, Scent, Dub-Con, Non/Con, Somnophilia, and Infidelity. Reader Discretion is Advised.
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Sukuna was going to fuck you. He was going to have you on your back, legs spread as he filled you to the brim, breeding you like a bitch while covering you in his bite marks and scent. Sukuna was sure of this fact from the first time he caught your smell in the air, light and warm and made for him. You were made for him. It was only a matter of time until he took what was rightfully his.
The only problem was you were marked, and sadly, it wasn’t by him. Worse yet, it was by some weak asshole who barely even had the ability to mark someone. Some feeble excuse of a man who probably didn't know what to do once he got your panties around your ankles, much less what to do when you were in your heat. The only thing worse than you being bonded to that douche canoe, was knowing it only happened so you wouldn’t be bonded to him. 
Okay, so “bonded” wasn’t really the right word there. “Sacrifice” was closer to the actuality of the situation, but still! You were literally destined to be his, and one asshole wants to play hero and fuck it all up? It drove him fucking mad, what right did that limp dick think he had to interfere? He caught himself clenching his fist and jaw. He needed to calm down before he hurt someone, especially since the only person nearby was you. 
Sukuna watched from a distance as you lounged under your tree, finding comfort in the forest instead of the inherent danger you should feel. He had suppressed his scent enough he was sure you hadn’t noticed, your calm demeanor conveying that fact. He could have you right now, release his scent and take you where you sat. But, that wouldn’t have done anything about your bond mark. No, to take care of that Sukuna had to be patient. Which, was a real fucking drag because if there was anything Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t it was a patient man.
🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
He remembered the first time he encountered you. Almost a month ago now, while he was taking his regular walk through the woods. He could still feel the full body reset that happened when he caught your aroma, the smell of apple and clove working its way through his nervous system and grabbing his cock his heart in a chokehold. Suddenly, his lazy stroll through the woods was a hunt to find out what decadent creature had made such a perfume. 
And that’s where he found you. Sitting contently in a floral field, making a fucking flower crown of all things, and surly waiting for him. He saw your hands falter and your eyes widen as he approached, no doubt because you finally picked up on his pheromones. He could feel the smirk forming on his lips. 
“Well, what a nice surprise,” He hummed as he approached you, “I wasn’t expecting to find anyone else out here.” You immediately fell into a low bow before him. Good, you knew your place. 
“I’m sorry my lord,” You apologize, though you weren’t sure why. You knew of the warlord Ryomen Sukuna. You knew he owned your village, as well as the villages surrounding it. But to your knowledge he didn’t police who was allowed in the woods. Still, you’d rather not risk upsetting him. 
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here, all alone?” He asked, eyes tracing the way your back curved into the bow.
“My mate and I moved closer to the forest recently, I was exp-”
“Your mate?” The vitriol in his tone made your stomach revolt and ignited your fight or flight system. You didn’t even know what you had done wrong. 
“Y-yes?”
“Stand up, look at me.” He demanded. You did so without hesitation, your omega body naturally inclined to follow the alphas commands. When you did, you were hit with a fresh wave of his aura, the smell of whiskey and cinnamon filling your senses and making your joints feel weak. You were caught between your need to honor your bond mark, and the need to fall to your knees for the man in front of you. You whimpered softly as he grabbed your chin and shoved your head to the side.
Sure enough, right there on your scent gland were faint teeth shaped scars. If he wasn’t specifically looking for them, he wouldn’t have seen them at all. Still, the fact it hadn't been refreshed didn’t negate the fact that it was there. You were unequivocally spoken for. 
“You don’t smell marked.” He scoffed as he released your head, taking a step back.
“It’s new…” You muttered. He may not have been able to smell your mate, but the stench of a lie was familiar to him. Especially one as piss poor as that.
“If it’s new then you should reek of him, Wench, don’t lie to me.” He growled. You looked down as your shame rolled over you.
“He’s a beta.” HE’S A BETA?! Sukuna had felt rage a lot in his life. Some may even say it was his default setting. But the rage he felt at being cucked by a beta was unlike anything that he had felt before. He felt his fingers twitch with the need to wrap around someone's neck, and the urge to burn down this entire forest was a hard one to fight. He choked back his molting hot fury with a simple reminder: Beta bond marks don’t mean shit. He could easily still have you. He just had to wait for your next heat cycle to do it, when your hormones were high and looking for something more…substantial, then a betas nub. 
“How cute, being mated to a beta. I’m sure you’re crazy for each other.” He sneered. You wished. Leaving every heat cycle woefully unsatisfied and frustrated might have been worth it if you had actually loved the man. If your union to him wasn’t purely survival. 
“He provides.” You settled on a half truth to keep from lying, one Sukuna definitely picked up on. 
“What’s your name Omega?” He demanded.
You told him your name in a soft whisper. Cute name. He’d be sure to have his servants look into you and your records. 
“Well Omega,” He said, making a point not to use the title given to him. To remind you what you were. “You should probably get back to your beta. It’s not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be out in these woods alone.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that was a warning and a threat, the edge in his words making that much clear. You nodded to the warlord, before making your way home. You fought the urge to sprint with everything you had in you, knowing better than to activate his prey drive. 
He watched as you did, noting your refusal to run. Smart girl. He could feel his mouth watering as he watched your hips sway, and his body buzzed with the need to have you under him. He took a deep breath to recollect himself before making the walk home. He’d have you soon enough.
🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
He kept a close eye on you in the weeks that followed. Learning about how your marriage was arranged through his servants, and how your marriage was failing from watching you. To your credit, you did try in earnest to make it work. You were the perfect mate. You kept a tidy home, always had dinner ready, and were always happy to get on your back for your husband. 
And yet it did nothing. That asshole still acted as if he was gods fucking gift for “saving” your life, and as if you didn’t do enough. Dinner was never right, there was always an issue with the house, and every morning Sukuna could smell your dissatisfaction from the night before- still rolling off you in waves.  It was pathetic that a creature as divine as you was wasted on swine like him. The good news was that your scent was evolving. As the leaves changed colors your fragrance got thicker, and sweeter in some aspects. You clung to your beta even if he was woefully unequipped. Your heat was coming.
A fact you were all too aware of. You could feel it pooling in your stomach and feverish on your skin. The effects were already starting, and you knew this one was going to be hell. Your mate thrashed in between your legs, chasing his high in you. You felt close, so close. Your body was trembling with anticipation, electricity buzzing under your skin. All you needed was his knot and-
He pulled out of your quivering cunt, cumming on your stomach with a guttural moan. Oh, right. He didn’t have a knot. You whined as he painted you white, wanting to snap at him for wasting his load. You held back though, knowing that, in reality, the last thing you wanted was his pups. You watched as he rolled off the bed and grabbed his pants.
“W-wait, but Naoya-” You panted, “I’m so close, please-”
“You’re gonna have to finish yourself, I’m gonna be late for my train.” Your “mate” groaned as if you were an inconvenience. 
“But…” You whimpered, then let it go. You knew better than to argue, and besides. Your climax was already fleeting. “Do you have to go?” You asked softly. You understood that, as a beta, Naoya couldn’t sense when your heat was coming like an alpha could. You accepted that. What you found hard to accept was that he still planned a business trip during your heat cycle, despite you explicitly telling him that you would need him. 
“Yes, Sweetie,” He said it with so much ire and hate, you would have rather he called you a bitch. “This is my job. It doesn’t stop because you’re horny.” He snapped, tired of having this conversation again. His venom shut you up. You watched as he quickly got dressed, then grabbed his bags and rushed for the train station. You fought tears as you went to clean yourself up. Were you really so unloveable?
You often wondered what the worse fate was, being sacrificed to Ryomen Sukuna or being trapped in a loveless pair bond. For years you knew without doubt it was being sacrificed to the warlord. You were always grateful to your father for selling you to the beta, saving you from what would no doubt have been a cruel and untimely death. Naoya may have been cold at times, but surely he wasn’t as bad as Sukuna.
Or at least, that’s what you used to think. Before you had actually met the man, and felt the way your body reacted to his presence alone. Suddenly, the so-called king of curses invaded your every thought, and life trapped in a passionless marriage felt like a prison sentence. You thought about Sukuna constantly, especially in the days leading up to your heat. You chased his faint scent on the wind, traced his markings in your dreams, and envisioned him to endure your husband's advances. 
It left you a wreck. Especially now, as night fell and your body temperature rose. Your fingers were doing absolutely nothing for you, and wouldn’t for at least the next week. Which, was rather conveniently when your husband was due to return home. You knew your heat bothered him, but you never knew it bothered him this much. Resentment grew in you the more you thought about it. If he didn’t want a fucking omega, then why the fuck did he pay for one? 
You tried not to think about it as you opened your window, hoping the cool night air would do something to help cool down your feverish skin. You lived far enough away from the other villagers you didn’t really have to worry about a wayward alpha finding you. And at this point, you weren’t sure you would care if one of them did. 
You settled into your nest, albeit a bit reluctantly. The faint smell of your mate clung to it, and despite your bond mark it brought you little comfort. More just frustration. It didn’t smell right anymore. You quickly took off your sleep pants, finding them unbearably hot, leaving you in just a tank top and soaked panties as you drifted off to sleep.
Sukuna could try and say that he was just out on a stroll to enjoy the moonlight. That he enjoyed the peace that the dark brought with it, and was only out to clear his mind. He would be lying. The truth of the matter was Sukuna had been keeping tabs on you. And while your bitch of a mate may have been inflicted with brain worms, Sukuna was not. He knew you were alone, and in heat. And he fully planned to take care of you, in ways your beta couldn’t dream of doing.
Walking to your little shack at the edge of the woods felt like wading into a warm lake, your trail becoming thicker and thicker in the air as he made his way to you. It was intoxicating, and he couldn’t stop the visions of you whimpering underneath him from entering his mind. Needy and alone, fuck. He could feel his blood rushing in his veins as your scent laced into his senses and his psyche, and his cock ached for you.
He wasn’t shocked to find your window open. Of course your window was open. You were waiting for him, your true mate. That fucking beta be damned, you wanted him, why else would the window be open? He crawled into your room on instinct more than much else, your body calling to him like a siren's song. The reality of your heat hit him like a train as he took in your visage. Sleeping not-so-peacefully in your marital bed, mindlessly rutting into a pillow drenched with your slick. He fucking hated that you were reduced to fucking pillows.
He was right here, you just needed to let your proper alpha take care of you. Let him protect you, let him fuck you until you can’t walk, let him fill you to the brim- until you’re overflowing, let him fix the fucking stench of your nest. He was on your bed and spreading your legs before he even fully realized what he was doing, ripping your slick drenched panties off of you. On a normal night, he would have touched you and known you were burning alive with a fever. But tonight? He was molting lava with his own forced rut, and he didn’t even notice yet. 
Mates don’t need to ask before taking care of their mate in heat, so he doesn't even bother waking you up before shoving two fingers into your weeping pussy to get you ready for him. You whine out softly, back curling off of the bed as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you sharply. He smirked as he curled his fingers up, listening to your breath catch in your throat.
“Fuck, Sukuna..” You whimpered in your sleep. Of course you called out his name, you were his omega. You chose him, you were meant to be with him. Soon, there would be no doubt about that. After he covered you with his scent, after he marked you as his and only his, and when your stomach was swollen with his pups- pink haired, four eyed and undeniably his.
He shrugged off his robe, his rock hard cock burning with need and dripping pre-cum. He ran his dick up your slit, gathering your divine slick on his angry red tip. He felt the tension in his shoulders finally dissolve as he pushed into you, finally at home where he was supposed to be. He growled as he sunk in to his base in one swoop. 
You jolt awake with the sudden intrusion, your cunt torn between pushing the intruder out and sucking him in deeper. “Wh-wha…?” You were given no time to try and catch up to the situation before the assault on your g-spot started, leaving you a moaning mess. Sukuna lifted your hips, holding your body with just his forearms as he changed the angle he fucked you in to fuck you deeper, harder. He needed it to take.
You looked up and saw a shock of pink hair and sharp tattoos through bleary eyes. On the surface your body revolted, knowing this wasn’t your mate and he was not meant to be touching you. But something deeper, more primal rejoiced at feeling the alphas fat cock. “Fuck, fuck, more..” You whimpered, bucking your hips in time with his thrusts. You could feel his knot swelling inside you and all you wanted was him. Nothing had ever felt more right. 
Sukuna had fucked a lot of omegas during his ruts. He ran through whores like they were nothing. But none of them had ever felt like this. Your pussy was made for him, so perfect as it milked his cock. Your body reacted to him perfectly. You were made to be his. You were his. Every inch of your skin, every breath you took, every smile you gave you were his. He’d prove it. He grabbed you in a bruising grip as he bent over you, capturing you in a demanding kiss and taking what little breath you had away in a clash of teeth and tongues. You belonged to him.
He growled lowly, as he pulled back, throwing your ankles over his shoulders as he pressed his body weight into you, folding you in half. “Fuck, you’re so good,” He groaned, “So fucking tight for me Baby Girl. Gonna knot you, fill you with my pups,” You didn’t know if he was talking to you or himself but it didn’t matter. A thought that should have been deeply revolting to you as a marked woman had never sounded more euphoric.
“Yes, please,” You begged into his ear, “Fuck me, it’s s’ good. Fill me, I- I need you.” you slurred together whatever words you could grapple with. You felt drunk on the feeling of euphoria, you almost forgot sex could feel so good. Your words, albeit a bit jumbled, electrified the part of Sukuna’s brain that had already decided he was your mate. You didn’t just want him, you needed him. You needed him. Of course you needed him, you belonged to him. You were his and his alone. 
His his his his-
Then he smelled it. In the sea of apple, clove and cinnamon whiskey a sharp mildew scent hit his nose. The fucking mold of your “bond mark.” Sukuna saw fucking red, his body seething with rage as he remembered you weren’t truly his. No matter how deep he fucked his seed into you, or how much of his skin touched yours, you weren’t his. 
Not yet anyway. 
He plunged his teeth into your scent glands, right over your previous bond mark. You howled as he did, a wave of ecstasy rocking its way through your heated body and decimating your shocked nervous system as you came all over him. Aftershocks of your orgasm pulsed through your cunt in time with his thrusts, sending static electricity through your needy body. You instinctively dug your fangs into Sukunas scent glands, an act you were never able to perform on your (former) beta mate.
The relief that washed over him as you completed the bond mark was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it left him in ruins. Cumming deep inside you, painting your womb white. The warm feeling he filled you with actually worked to (somehow) cool the raging inferno in your bloodstream, and you finally found relief from the hell you had been in. 
You stayed connected, him holding you close while he waited for his knot to deflate. You thought about Naoya. You had never been able to properly mark him because he didn’t have scent glands for you to mark. It met you were never really bonded, not like how you were bonded to Sukuna now. But, he was technically still your husband. This was his house and his bed you were getting fucked by a perfect stranger in. How would he react when he found you here with the warlord that owned the land? Would he find you here?
Would you regret it? 
You didn’t have time to really consider the ramifications of your actions before Ryomen was moving inside you again, and the last thing you wanted to think about was the boy that abandoned you. You whined underneath him, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. He pressed his forehead to yours in response.
“Still with me Omega?” He asked as he started to pick up the pace, making you whine underneath him.
“I’m here my lord,” You mumbled softly.
“Good,” He punctuated the word with a sharp kiss before straightening up, “Cause it’s gonna take more than just that to knock you up.” He chuckled as his hips started to piston into yours, setting a punishing pace. The natural curve of his cock was seemingly designed to bully your hypersensitive g-spot, stimulating your body back to life as you gripped the sheets under you.
“Aww, look at my pretty little omega,” Sukuna cooed mockingly as he fucked his cum back into you, “All fucked out and full. Feels good to actually cum after spending so much time with a limp dick, doesn’t it slut?” Apparently, all it took was him getting to cum once for him to find his voice.
“So good, so fucking good.” You whimpered, “So big, so full…” And you had no problem feeding into it. His claws dug into your hips, leaving bruises defined enough you could take his fingerprints off of them. He watched the way your tits bounced as you tried to feebly hold onto the sheet, attempting to ground yourself however you could. He watched his bulge appear and reappear in your stomach with every thrust. He watched the way your skin glistened in the moonlight, begging him to mark it. He watched the way your eyes fluttered and glazed over with dazed pleasure. 
But the real show was happening where the two of you were connected. Where your slick coated his cock, creating a foamy ring around the base. Where your natural lube mixed with his load, making the most vulgar sounds as he fucked your quivering cunt. God, he couldn’t have asked for a better mate.
Your warm pussy hugged him perfectly, begging him for more and pulling him even deeper into you with every thrust. Every movement of your hips sent a wave of euphoria through him, and he desperately chased both of your highs. He wanted to see you cum. He didn’t get to the first time.
 He wouldn’t make that mistake again. You were finally finally his after months of coveting you. Of watching you, of needing you wanting you, of imagining you, you finally belonged to him. He was going to see what you looked like when you came for him god damn it!
“You gonna cream for me again Sweetheart?” He growled, “Squirt all over my dick like a good girl? I know you are, I can feel it, fuck-” His words fell apart on his tongue as you clenched around him. Stars blotted out your vision as your second climax started to creep up on you, slowly tingling up your spine and taking over your body. You bucked your hips into his erratically, chasing the high only he could give you. Sparks of bliss exploded under your skin as you felt him start to swell again.
And suddenly he felt way too far away. You needed him closer. You needed his scent, his skin, him. You ripped one of your hands away from the bedsheets and reached out, trying to communicate what you wanted. His head tilted to the side and he scoffed as he looked at your outstretched hand.
“Words slut, what do you want?” He growled.
“My mate.” You whimpered. He was immediately leaning down to you, pressing his chest to yours and letting your fingers intertwine with his. How could he deny you your mate? Your body exploded into a thousand sparks of ecstasy where his skin ment yours. His scent wrapped around your senses like an old blanket, cozy and familiar and safe. You whined softly and closed your eyes to embrace for impact.
“No.” He growled, using his free hand to pull your hair and force your eyes open, “Look at me.” He demanded. Your watery eyes held his fiery ones as you moaned pathetically under him.
“I’m so close..”
“Then cum for me.” The floodgates opened and you were suddenly drowning in a sea of ecstasy and dopamine. Your hips thrashed against your will and your legs shook like the last leaves on autumn trees. You swore you saw entire galaxies be born before your eyes as you were hit with one of the hardest climaxes of your life. Your eyes watered as they looked into his, your skin felt flushed against his touch, and your grip on his hand tightened.
“Fuck, Ryomen…” He hadn’t heard his first name spoken in years. His body slammed into yours as his own climax hit him with a brick. He fucked you as best as he could through his knot, riding out both of your highs as he filled you to the point of overflowing and then some. His entire body was racked with euphoria as he came harder than he even thought possible. 
He collapsed on top of you, rolling you both to the side so he didn’t crush you with his body weight. For a while, the only sound was of the two of you trying to catch your breath. You felt his arms wrap around you and calloused hands rub your back gently to sooth you. He kissed your neck almost sweetly.
“You’re doing so good sweetheart,” He praised in a whisper, one soft enough the wind threatened to take it away, “So good for me.” It made your stomach flutter. His presence was instantly calming, much more so than your ex’s. You might have even fallen asleep, if you didn’t feel him start to move again, still rock solid inside of you. 
🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
Your body was sore the next morning when you woke up, but the fever had subsided for now, finally giving you room to breathe and think about literally anything other than lust. The first thing you noticed was that you were not at home. You jolted up in bed, a soft whimper leaving your throat. 
“Silence, woman.” That was when you registered the body next to you in the bed. You looked over to see Ryomen, fully annoyed at being woken up. “You’re safe. I’m here.” He grumbled as he pulled you back into his side. You weren’t sure what was more impressive, that he managed to return to (what you assumed was) his home after last night, or that he managed to carry you with him. 
“Sukuna-”
“Ryomen.” He corrected you with a dangerous growl. You paused, a bit taken back.
“Ryomen,” You accepted the correction, “what happens now?”
“Hopefully you go back to sleep.” He sighed, irritated to have been woken up at the ungodly hour of 12 pm. While he was still in rut no less! He didn’t get a lot of chances to sleep during this time, and neither did you. You needed the rest.
“No, I mean with…with,” You didn’t know how to put it.
“What, you mean your cuck ex? Don’t worry about it.” He didn’t hide that he was irritated with you for bringing him up first thing in the morning. 
“....Is he going to be hurt?” You asked softly. Sukuna felt his lip twitch.
“If I have it my way, yes.” He didn’t mince words. Why the fuck did you care so much about that loser anyway? You thought about your mates words, then nodded. 
“Good.” You said, finally settling back into Ryomens arms and relaxing into him. He didn’t hide the smile that tugged on his lips. He knew he loved you. 
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readsaboutreid · 8 days
Text
Everything To Me
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summary: Spencer is in love with his coworker and best friend and goes all out to celebrate her birthday on the day after when she catches her boyfriend in bed with another woman when they arrive home from a case.
this is 100% season 1 spencer
warning: cheating, making out, angst/comfort
“(Y/N)! Wait up!” Spencer stumbled, tripping over his feet as he hurried to catch the elevator with his friend. He covered the distance from his desk to the elevator doors in record time as (Y/N) hit the button to presumably hold open the doors for him. He slid in and stood next to her while panting lightly. He really needed to do some cardio, he noted to himself.
“Wow, with speed like that I should start calling you Barry Allen,” she giggled, making Spencer's heart flutter in the best and most terrifying way and drawing a laugh out of his throat (even though he didn’t really get the reference). He couldn't help it when all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life.
“Sorry,” he flashed a sheepish smile at her and ducked his head a little bit as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly.
“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any, uh, any plans for the evening? There’s a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon and I know that’s your favorite Star Trek series so I was thinking maybe we could hang out and maybe get some takeout?"
"That sounds like it would be a hell of a time," she began. Spencer could already feel the incoming, "but I promised Warren I'd spend the evening with him since it's my birthday and all." Spencer had to keep himself from making a face at the mention of her asshole of a boyfriend, not wanting to upset her, and so instead he opted to skip over that and react to the next part of her statement.
"Wait it's your birthday? Why didn't you say anything? We all would have done something to celebrate before going home today," Spencer started kicking himself internally. How could he not have known today was her birthday? The two of them had become attached at the hip pretty much since she started at the BAU 4 months ago. She had even celebrated his own birthday with him and the rest of the team.
“Hey, it’s okay! You don’t need to feel bad or anything, I tend to just treat my birthday like it’s any other day so I often just don't even tell anyone when it is,” she shot him a sweet smile in an attempt to assure him that it was okay but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.
Spencer's heart sank a bit at the thought of not being able to celebrate (Y/N)'s birthday with her, but he knew Warren was important to her regardless of how much Spencer and the team disliked him. He mustered a smile and nodded, "No worries, spending time with Warren sounds great. Happy birthday, (Y/N). I hope your day is as wonderful as you are."
(Y/N) blushed at the compliment, waving it off modestly. The elevator dinged softly, indicating they had reached the ground floor. As the doors slid open, they stepped out into the bustling lobby of the FBI building. Spencer glanced at his watch and realized it was already late in the evening.
"Well, I should let you get going. Have a fantastic birthday night with Warren," Spencer said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a cheerful facade.
"Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it. We should definitely catch that Star Trek marathon another time," she replied with a warm smile before turning to head towards the exit.
Later in the evening, Spencer found himself sitting on his worn-out couch, a container of lukewarm Chinese takeout resting in his lap as he absentmindedly watched reruns of Star Trek. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter in the elevator with (Y/N) earlier that day. The missed opportunity to spend her birthday with her weighed heavily on his heart.
Just as Captain Picard was about to make a diplomatic decision that could change the course of an entire star system, Spencer's phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see (Y/N)'s name flashing brightly.
With a mixture of confusion and worry, he answered the call. "Hey, (Y/N), is everything okay?" His heart clenched at the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.
"Spencer," her voice cracked, "can you... can you come pick me up?"
Without another word, Spencer sprang into action. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll be right there. Where are you?" Spencer's voice was filled with concern as he quickly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten container of Chinese takeout and the flickering TV screen showing Star Trek.
As he drove through the quiet streets towards (Y/N)'s location, thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. Why was she crying? What had happened? He couldn't bear the thought of her in distress, especially on her birthday.
Finally reaching the spot where she said she would be, Spencer spotted (Y/N) sitting on a bench outside of a sketchy looking apartment complex, her head buried in her hands. He parked the car and hurried over to her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.
"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Spencer knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, and he felt a crack in his chest
as her trembling voice filled the cool night air.
"I... I waited for Warren at my apartment, but he never showed up or called. I got worried and went to his place," she paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I let myself in with my key, and... and I found him in bed with another woman."
Shock rippled through Spencer as he struggled to process her words. The image of (Y/N) standing in the doorway of Warren's apartment, witnessing such a betrayal, tore at his heart. Anger flared within him, directed not only at Warren but at the unfairness of it all. How could someone as kind and genuine as (Y/N) be treated so callously?
Without hesitation, Spencer pulled (Y/N) into a tight embrace, offering her solace in the warmth of his arms. He felt her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.
As she sobbed into his chest he felt tears pricking his own eyes. He gently cupped her head and started stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her before saying, “let’s get you into the car, okay?”
As Spencer led (Y/N) to his car, he couldn't shake the image of her devastated face from his mind. The weight of her heartbreak hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with a sense of helplessness. He opened the car door for her, watching as she settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.
"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," Spencer murmured softly as he started the engine, casting a sympathetic glance her way. "You deserve so much better than this."
(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I should have known better than to get my hopes up. This is why I never celebrate my birthday. It’s more trouble than it’s worth," she confessed, her voice laced with resignation and nothing more than a whisper by the very end. Spencer's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to show her that she deserved all the love and happiness in the world.
"You deserve to be celebrated, (Y/N)," Spencer said with conviction, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the car. "No one has the right to make you feel otherwise. You are kind, beautiful, and deserving of all the love and joy that life has to offer."
Spencer's words echoed in (Y/N)'s mind as they drove through the quiet streets of the city, the soft glow of streetlights casting a serene ambiance over the car. The heaviness of her heart began to lift ever so slightly, buoyed by the sincerity in Spencer's eyes and the comfort of his presence beside her.
As they reached a stoplight, Spencer turned to (Y/N) with a tentative smile. "How about we make a detour?" he suggested gently. "There's this little ice cream shop a few blocks away. Maybe some ice cream might help lift your spirits."
(Y/N) managed a small smile in return, touched by Spencer's thoughtfulness. The simple gesture felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that had gathered around her heart. "That sounds nice," she replied softly, her voice still tinged with sadness but with a glimmer of gratitude shining through.
They parked near the ice cream shop, its cheerful neon sign beckoning them inside. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in, greeted by the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones and a colorful display of ice cream flavors. Spencer guided (Y/N) to a cozy booth by the window, where they could watch the world pass by as they indulged in their frozen treats.
As they savored their ice cream, the heaviness in (Y/N)'s heart began to thaw, melting away with each spoonful of creamy sweetness. Spencer listened attentively as she shared snippets of her favorite childhood memories, her voice soft and wistful against the backdrop of cheerful chatter from other customers.
Once they had finished their ice cream, Spencer suggested another detour. "There's this little vintage store down the street that always has some classic movies on sale. How about we pick up one of your favorites and head back to my place to watch it?”
(Y/N) hesitated before saying, “I don’t know about picking up anything from a store but is that Star Trek marathon still on?” The slight amount of hope in her voice made Spencer’s heart flutter with a mix of relief and warmth. He had been longing for a chance to make her smile, to see a glimmer of happiness light up her eyes once more.
Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, "Absolutely! We can swing by the store another time. For now, let's head straight to my place for that Star Trek marathon." The anticipation in (Y/N)'s eyes was palpable as they made their way to Spencer's cozy apartment. The familiar scent of old books and fresh laundry greeted them as they stepped inside, the soft glow of string lights casting a warm ambiance over the living room.
Spencer turned the TV back on, dimming the lights to create a cozy home-theater atmosphere. They settled on the couch, surrounded by plush pillows and soft blankets, basking in the nostalgic thrill of the sci-fi classic unfolding on the screen.
As the episode played on, Spencer got up and reheated the Chinese food from earlier and putting it on plates for each of them. He grabbed himself a fork and got one of the sets of chopsticks from the restaurant for (Y/N). As he made his way back to the living room he saw (Y/N) happily rocking back and forth as she watched Data and Geordi share another one of their intriguing engineering discussions. Spencer couldn't help but smile at the sight, a flicker of contentment lighting up his own heart as he handed (Y/N) the plate with her food and settled back onto the couch beside her.
Between bites of General Tso's chicken and sips of hot tea, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The soft glow of the TV cast shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity around them. The gentle hum of the spaceship's engines on screen seemed to lull them both into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle or comment about the characters.
After a few episodes, Spencer found himself stealing glances at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, admiring the soft curve of her profile as she watched intently. He could see a spark of joy in her eyes, a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of unspoken emotions that lingered between them. Sensing a rare moment of vulnerability, Spencer cleared his throat softly before turning to (Y/N) with a gentle smile.
"Hey, (Y/N)," he began, his voice soft and tentative. "I was wondering... If you could have done anything for your birthday today, what would it have been?"
(Y/N) paused, her gaze shifting from the screen to Spencer. Her expression softened as she considered the question, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "You know, I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian," she murmured, her eyes distant with longing. "And maybe the Botanic Gardens too... It's on my list of things to do someday."
Spencer nodded, committing her words to memory as he filed away the simple desires she shared. He made a mental note to himself, silently vowing to make those dreams a reality for her someday.
As they finished the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Spencer noticed the clock on the wall ticking closer to midnight. With a sense of reluctance, he turned to (Y/N) and said, "I hate to cut this short, but it's getting late. I should call a cab for you."
(Y/N) looked up at him, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in her eyes. She nodded quietly, gathering her things and slipping on her coat. As Spencer dialed for a cab, he couldn't shake off the feeling of missed opportunities hanging heavy in the air.
The subdued sound of the approaching cab echoed through the quiet street outside. Spencer opened the door for (Y/N), his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be picking you up at 11 am tomorrow so be dressed and ready," he said, surprising both himself and (Y/N) with his sudden declaration.
Confusion flashed across her face as she stammered, "But... why? Where are we going?"
"Just make sure you’re ready,” he smiled, ideas blossoming in his mind as he decided he was going to show her what her birthday meant to him. He closed the cab door behind her and waved as the car drove off before turning on his heel and heading back inside, preparing to show his best friend the time of her life tomorrow.
Spencer woke up at 8 am the next morning to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, illuminating his room in a golden hue. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his arms above his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Today was going to be special; he was determined to make it a day that (Y/N) would never forget.
Remembering her mention once that morning glories were her favorite flower, Spencer decided to start by weaving a delicate flower crown out of the vibrant blooms he had picked from his backyard garden. As he carefully intertwined the petals and vines into a crown fit for a queen, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing (Y/N) wear it.
After finishing the flower crown, Spencer's thoughts drifted to a memory she had shared with him long ago. Before her parents had passed away, they used to build her a pillow fort and hang fairy lights in it on special occasions. Determined to recreate that sense of childhood magic for her, Spencer set about constructing a fort in his living room. He gathered every pillow and blanket he could find, stacking them strategically to form the walls of the fort. With a bit of effort and creativity, he managed to fashion an elaborate yet cozy hideaway filled with soft cushions and twinkling fairy lights. His PhD in Engineering was finally seeing some use.
As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Spencer's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, inviting aura over the fort, creating an atmosphere of whimsy and nostalgia. He could almost picture the look of wonder on (Y/N)'s face when she saw it, and the thought filled him with a sense of anticipation.
With the fort completed, Spencer glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to pick up (Y/N). Quickly changing into a clean shirt and vest and grabbing the flower crown he had made earlier, he made his way out the door, excitement bubbling in his chest.
As he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment, Spencer's mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. He parked the car a few blocks away, wanting to give himself a moment to compose himself before their day together began. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the short walk to her building.
The street was alive with the sounds of the city waking up - the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of early risers going about their day. But in Spencer's mind, all he could focus on was the image of (Y/N) in his mind, wearing the flower crown he had made for her.
Finally reaching her apartment building, he climbed the steps to her floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Standing in front of her door, he took one last deep breath before lifting his hand to knock.
The sound echoed through the hallway, reverberating in Spencer's ears as he waited with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. The soft shuffling of footsteps grew louder, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation. Suddenly, the gentle click of the door being unlocked filled the air, and it slowly swung open to reveal (Y/N) standing before him.
She looked breathtaking. (Y/N) was wearing a simple yet elegant dress with cute buttons lining the front and a delicate peter pan collar. Her chin length bob was slightly curved under her chin and her bangs fell across her forehead in such a perfect way and Spencer looked away quickly, his cheeks burning when he realized he was staring. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.
Then, Spencer slowly brought forward the flower crown he had hidden behind his back, holding it out towards (Y/N) with a shaky hand. “Happy birthday," he finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he nervously offered her the crown. The soft petals of the flowers brushed against her fingertips, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise and delight as she took the flower crown from Spencer's hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held the delicate creation, a mix of awe and gratitude shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Spencer, it's beautiful," she murmured as she gently placed it atop her head, her voice soft with emotion. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow that illuminated her features, making her look even more ethereal. In that moment, caught in the gentle morning light, Spencer felt a swell of affection for her that threatened to overwhelm him.
After a beat of silence filled with unspoken words hanging in the air between them, Spencer cleared his throat and offered a hesitant smile. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending the day with her.
(Y/N) returned his smile with a nod, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she looped her arm through his, the flower crown perched delicately on her head. They strolled down the bustling street, the city waking up around them with a cacophony of sounds and scents. Spencer couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N), her presence beside him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt before.
Their first stop was a cozy bookshop just across the street from her apartment building. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and the scent of aged paper and ink enveloped them in a comforting embrace. Rows upon rows of books lined the shelves, each one whispering promises of new worlds and adventures.
"Pick out as many as you'd like," Spencer said, gesturing to the endless array of titles surrounding them. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing over spines in search of stories. He watched as she made her way through the shelves until she reached the SciFi/Fantasy and Horror section and begin removing books from the shelves, reading the backs and either adding them to the stack in her arms or placing them back on the shelves.
Spencer couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) immersed herself in the world of books, her eyes alight with a passion that made her even more enchanting. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting each book as if it held a piece of her soul within its pages. His heart swelled with fondness for her, her love for literature reflecting a depth to her character that he found endlessly captivating.
As (Y/N) returned back to him, her arms filled with a stack of books that seemed to reach towards the sky, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I might have gotten a bit carried away," she admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Could you help me narrow things down a little bit?”
Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. "No need to apologize. Let's see what treasures you've found," he said, reaching out to take a few books from her arms. Together, they perused the titles she had chosen, discussing the plots and themes. After they had no luck in narrowing down the pile, Spencer scooped them all up into his arms in a stack and began making his way to the checkout stand.
"Why bother narrowing it down?" Spencer's voice was filled with a playful lilt as he carried the stack of books towards the checkout counter, (Y/N) trailing behind him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Impressive selection," the bookstore clerk commented as he rung up the stack of books, each title a window into (Y/N)'s interests and desires. (Y/N) beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with confusion and gratitude as Spencer pulled out his wallet and paid before she could even reach for her own from her bag.
As they left the bookshop, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets. The sounds of the city swirled around them—honking cars, lively chatter, and the distant rumble of a passing train. Spencer glanced over at (Y/N) walking beside him, her face illuminated by a soft radiance.
(Y/N) quickly unlocked the door and placed the bags of books onto her dining room table before they walked back outside. Spencer patiently waited as she locked her door before holding his arm out again for her to grab on to as he lead her to his car.
As they arrived at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, Spencer's steps were light with anticipation. The air was alive with the promise of discovery, and he couldn't wait to share this world of wonders with (Y/N). The museum loomed before them like a giant treasure trove, its grand architecture a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.
Stepping inside, they were greeted by a vast hall filled with aircraft suspended from the ceiling like metallic birds frozen in flight. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in awe, her gaze flitting from one exhibit to another as Spencer led her through the maze of history and innovation.
"This is the Wright Flyer," Spencer said, pointing towards the iconic biplane that started it all. "It's incredible to think that this simple machine paved the way for all modern aviation."
As they moved deeper into the museum, Spencer's voice became a gentle murmur of knowledge and passion. He regaled (Y/N) with stories of astronauts who dared to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere and the technological advancements that made it all possible. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her eyes shimmering with wonder and admiration for both the exhibits and the man beside her.
Each artifact held a story, a piece of history waiting to be unraveled. Spencer's explanations brought life to the static displays, turning them into vibrant tales of human courage and scientific progress. He pointed out the intricate details of each spacecraft, each spacesuit, each photograph, as if they were sacred relics in a grand temple of human achievement.
As they entered the lunar module exhibit, (Y/N) gasped in awe at the sight of the actual spacecraft that had touched the surface of the moon as well as a piece of rock from the moon that was free for visitors to touch. She reached out a hand as if to touch it, but stopped herself, as if afraid to disturb the fragile connection between past and present.
Spencer noticed her hesitation and smiled softly. "It's okay, you can touch it," he encouraged. "Feel the history in your fingers."
(Y/N) tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips against the cool, pitted surface of the moon rock. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as she made contact, connecting her to a distant world that had once seemed so unreachable. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the weight of history and the magnitude of human achievement.
Spencer watched her with a mix of admiration and fondness, his heart swelling with a bittersweet ache at the sight of her emotional response. He longed to reach out and comfort her, to share in this moment of vulnerability and connection, but he held back, knowing that some experiences were meant to be felt in solitude.
As they moved on to the space shuttle exhibit, Spencer's voice took on a reverent tone as he explained the intricacies of space travel and the courage of those who dared to venture into the unknown. (Y/N) listened intently, hanging onto his every word as if they were precious treasures. The stories of the astronauts and their daring adventures resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was as if each tale of exploration and discovery tugged at something deep within her, awakening a yearning for the stars that had long been dormant.
After exploring the wonders of the cosmos in the Air and Space Museum, Spencer suggested they visit the Museum of Natural History next. (Y/N) eagerly agreed, her curiosity piqued by the promise of delving into the mysteries of the natural world.
The moment they stepped into the museum, a wave of earthy scents enveloped them—the musty aroma of ancient fossils, the fresh green fragrance of preserved plants, and the tangy scent of minerals. (Y/N) took a deep breath, savoring the rich tapestry of odors that surrounded her as they ventured deeper into the exhibits.
Spencer guided her through halls filled with towering skeletons of dinosaurs, exotic taxidermy specimens, and sparkling gemstones that seemed to whisper tales of ancient worlds and forgotten creatures. His voice, now a gentle hum of fascination, wove intricate stories of the natural wonders before them, each exhibit a chapter in the never-ending book of Earth's history.
With every step, (Y/N) felt herself being transported back in time, her senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and scents of a world long gone yet preserved within the walls of the museum. She marveled at the sheer diversity of life that had once inhabited the planet, from the majestic bones of a towering T-Rex to the delicate wings of a butterfly frozen in time.
As they reached the Butterfly Pavilion, (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with childlike excitement. She walked among the lush greenery, her fingers gently trailing over velvety leaves and vibrant petals as she inspected each plant with keen interest. Spencer watched her with a soft smile, his admiration for her knowledge and passion shining in his eyes.
"It’s like stepping into a living kaleidoscope," (Y/N) breathed, her voice hushed with wonder. "Each butterfly and moth, every plant here tells a story of adaptation and survival. Look at this one," she gestured to a plump monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a bright orange bloom, "did you know they migrate for thousands of miles to escape the cold?"
Spencer was happy to listen intently to her spout knowledge that he already held, captivated by the gleam in her eyes and the animated gestures that accompanied each explanation. He found himself falling even more deeply under her spell as she shared her wealth of knowledge, her voice growing more animated with each tidbit of information.
As they wandered through the pavilion, (Y/N) pointed out the intricate patterns on the butterflies' wings, explaining their purpose and significance with a mix of scientific precision and unbridled enthusiasm. Spencer couldn't help but be swept up in her passion, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of her so fully immersed in her element. Her rarely used PhDs in Botany and Microbiology shone brightly through her words and actions as she explained the importance of every living thing within the enclosure down to the network of fungal mycelium in the dirt, making Spencer see her in a whole new light. The way she spoke about each species of butterfly or moth, each plant or fungus they saw, showcased not only her expertise but also her deep love and respect for the natural world.
Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word, just as she had done with his tales of space exploration earlier. He admired the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly as if conducting a symphony of knowledge and wonder.
As they reached a secluded corner of the pavilion, (Y/N) knelt down beside a cluster of milkweed plants, her voice soft and reverent as she explained their importance to the monarch butterflies. Spencer watched her intently, a sense of peace settling over him as he observed her in her element. He then checked his watch, his eyes widening in realization as he saw the time. They were going to be late for the dinner reservation he had managed to secure at the new Italian restaurant (Y/N) had been longing to try for months. With a gentle touch on her shoulder, Spencer interrupted her explanation about the symbiotic relationship between the milkweed plants and monarch butterflies.
"(Y/N), as much as I hate to interrupt your fascinating lesson, we should start heading out. We have a dinner reservation," Spencer said apologetically, a hint of regret in his tone.
Startled by the mention of dinner, (Y/N) straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise before a sheepish smile crossed her face. "Oh gosh, I completely lost track of time! I'm so sorry, Spencer. Let's go."
They hurried through the Butterfly Pavilion, their steps quickening as they made their way to the exit. Spencer opened the passenger door for her as they approached his car, and they soon found themselves seated inside as Spencer started the engine. The warmth of the setting sun bathed the interior in a golden glow, casting long shadows across (Y/N)'s face as she fastened her seatbelt. She glanced over at Spencer, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead.
The drive to the Italian restaurant was filled with comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the radio playing a mellow jazz tune in the background. Spencer stole glances at (Y/N) from time to time, admiring how the fading light accentuated her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow.
Arriving at the restaurant, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. The cozy ambiance of the place enveloped them as they were led to their table, nestled in a corner with a flickering candle casting dancing shadows on their faces.
As they perused the menu, (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight as she scanned the offerings, her excitement palpable. Spencer couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the romantic candlelight surrounding them. This moment, this simple act of sharing a meal with her, felt like a glimpse into the life he had always wanted but never dared to reach for.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled with joy as she recounted a hilarious mishap at work, and Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word once again. It was moments like these that made him forget about his own worries and fears, immersing himself in the present moment.
As the waiter brought out their food, the table was soon filled with plates of steaming pasta and fragrant sauces. The first bite sent a burst of flavors dancing on (Y/N)'s tongue, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in bliss. Spencer watched her savor each mouthful, her expression a symphony of delight and contentment. The flickering candlelight played on her face, accentuating the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.
Spencer's gaze lingered on her, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, to etch it into his memory forever. The warmth of the restaurant, the soft glow of the candle, the sound of (Y/N)'s laughter – all of it wove together into a tapestry of perfect happiness.
But beneath the surface of their shared joy, Spencer felt a pang of bittersweet realization. This was just a moment, a fleeting interlude in their lives. Tomorrow, they would return to their separate paths, their separate dreams.
As (Y/N) reached for her glass of wine, her hand brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment of connection, Spencer felt a surge of courage wash over him. As they finished their meals, the waiter returned to their table with a flourish, presenting a tray of decadent desserts that Spencer had secretly ordered while (Y/N) was in the bathroom. A smile played on his lips as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and delight at the unexpected treat.
"Spencer, you didn't have to do this," she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.
"It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to enjoy it here or take it to go and eat it while watching something?"
(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the cozy restaurant ambiance and the promise of a quiet moment elsewhere. After a brief pause, she decided, "Let's take it to go."
Spencer nodded in agreement and politely requested the bill. As he settled the payment, a sense of resolve settled in him, guiding his actions as they left the restaurant. The cool night air caressed their skin as they walked towards Spencer's car parked just around the corner. He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that was both chivalrous and intimate.
As they drove through the city streets, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at her mind. Why were they headed to Spencer's apartment instead of hers, as she had anticipated? Her thoughts raced, trying to find an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.
Upon arriving at his apartment building, Spencer handed her the to-go boxes with their desserts before unlocking the door. A sense of bewilderment washed over (Y/N) as she followed him inside. Before she could voice her confusion, Spencer moved behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands, guiding her further into his apartment.
The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air as (Y/N) let herself be led by Spencer through the dimly lit hallway. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, her trust in him unwavering as he guided her with careful steps. The soft shuffle of their feet echoed in the corridor, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her own pulse.
After what felt like an eternity of darkness behind her closed eyelids, Spencer's hands finally left (Y/N)'s eyes, revealing a mesmerizing sight before her. As she blinked away the temporary blindness, a gasp escaped her lips at the magical scene that unfolded in front of her.
The room was transformed into a whimsical wonderland – an elaborate pillow fort stretched across the space, twinkling with fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Soft blankets cascaded down like waterfalls, creating nooks and crannies that held the promise of cozy comfort. The air was scented with old books, eucalyptus, and lavender, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that surrounded them.
Spencer watched (Y/N) with bated breath as she took in the sight before her. The flickering lights danced across her face, illuminating the awe and wonder reflected in her eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, suspended between reality and a dream.
"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that he had never dared to show before.
Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, moved by the effort and thoughtfulness he had put into creating this enchanting surprise. She turned to face him, her heart overflowing with emotions she struggled to put into words.
"Spencer, this is... it's perfect," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out to grasp his hand, holding onto it as though afraid this magical moment would slip away if she let go.
As they settled into the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Spencer grabbed his laptop from his desk and popped a DVD into the disc player. The opening to a movie he had never seen but had heard her talk about multiple times, Clueless, played in the background but all he could do was look at her. Under the twinkling of the fairy lights he could almost swear she had to be a fairy herself. That’s the only thing he could think of that would explain her beauty.
As the movie played on (Y/N) explained to Spencer that it was actually an adaptation of her favorite novel by Jane Austen, Emma, which did little to make him feel the main character was more likeable but watching her happily chatter about the movie filled him with a sense of comfort and affection. This is how it should always be, he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest.
They sat and cuddled in a comfortable silence until it was broken by her voice, soft and timid as she said, “hey Spence?”
“Hm?” He hummed into her hair, his eyes closed.
“Why did you do all of this?” She queried, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, which immediately pulled Spencer from his half asleep haze.
Spencer thought about his next words carefully, taking so long that (Y/N) was about to ask if he had fallen asleep before he finally responded. “After seeing you so heartbroken last night and seeing how Warren just tossed you aside like you didn’t matter I just felt like I should show you how much it means to me that you exist." His voice was gentle, barely a whisper as he confessed the depth of his feelings for her.
(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice touched her heart in a way she had never experienced before. She turned to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care reflected back at her.
Tears glistened in her eyes as she reflexively leaned into his hand as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "Spencer," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion, "you didn’t have to—I’m not worth all this—I-I don’t—"
He placed a finger on her lips, silencing her words. "That’s what I’ve spent all day trying to show you, (Y/N). You are worth it. You are worth everything to me," he whispered, his gaze unwavering.
In that moment, (Y/N) felt a rush of emotions swell within her, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed into Spencer's eyes, seeing a depth of love and sincerity that she had never expected to find. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
As they sat there, suspended in time, (Y/N) felt a gentle tug at her heart urging her to lean forward. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her mind as she debated the implications of such a gesture. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she had been through? Was it worth risking her heart for the possibility of something more?
But before she could overthink it any further, Spencer's gaze softened even more as he leaned in towards her. In the briefest moment of hesitation, his lips hovered centimeters away from hers, silently asking for permission. And just as he began to pull back, (Y/N) plunged forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips against Spencer's. It was a tender, tentative kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had lingered between them for so long. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this intimate moment, their hearts beating in harmony.
Spencer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events, but as he felt (Y/N)'s warmth against his lips, all doubts and insecurities melted away. When they finally pulled away, they were both met with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a charged energy in the air, a newfound connection that sparked between them like a flame igniting in the darkness.
"(Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he searched her eyes for confirmation.
(Y/N) simply smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face with joy and relief. “I love you, Spencer,” falls from her lips before she crashes them back against his.
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years
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𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 \\ eddie munson x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 \\ eddie's a little surprised when you ask him to come over to platonically stay the night, but he's happy to try to make you feel better however he can.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 \\ 6.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 \\ SMUT (18+ ONLY), unprotected sex, mentions/discussions of a break-in, mentions of drug use, there was only one bed, fluff, kinda hurt/comfort (but less hurt more comfort)
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"Thanks," you whimpered, sounding just as weak as you looked right now— your eyes were heavy and sunken in, your lips chapped, shoulders slumped.  "I just feel safer with someone here."
Not that Eddie was in any place to judge your appearance.  He'd walked here in the rain and probably looked a mess.  "Of course!" he offered as he stepped inside and you shut your door behind him.  He slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the couch, shaking the rain off his hair in a way not dissimilar to a dog after a bath.  "Wow, storm's been pretty relentless, huh?"
"Yeah," you agreed quietly, reaching up to cross your arm over your chest and clutch your opposite elbow.  "The cops said that's why they couldn't catch the guy— rain washed away fingerprints, and mud filled footprints, so…"
He nodded, looking down nervously at his shoes on top of your pale blue linoleum. "Can't believe some asshole's breaking into trailers.  What valuables does he think you have in here?"
"Well, they said he might have been looking for me…"
Eddie instantly regretted mentioning it.  He hadn't even thought of it like that, and it made a surge of emotions hit him when he did; most of all, a strange instinct to make sure you were safe.  "Do they think he might come back?"
You bit your lip, glancing down too with a shrug.
"Well, nobody's gonna try and mess with you once they get a glimpse of Smith & Wesson," he added jokingly, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Eddie!" you gasped.  "Did you bring a gun?"
You said it like it was a dirty word, even though he knew you had a revolver in here at some point.  "No, no," he assured, "those are my biceps: Smith—" he flexed one arm— "and Wesson." He bit his lip as he flexed the other, raising and dropping his eyebrows quickly.  You laughed, covering your nose and mouth with your hand as you snorted.  
He was quite proud of himself for amusing you, and even slightly hopeful that the tank top he was wearing (which he'd made by slicing the sleeves off of an old Zeppelin shirt) actually made him look muscular.
"So… I'll set up on the couch?" he assumed.
"Oh," you mumbled, seeming shy again.  "I mean, if you want…"
"What's the other option?" he wondered.
"Well," you said quietly, crossing your arms— damn it, he'd made you uncomfortable somehow.  Eddie was perceptive enough to read your demeanor, but too oblivious to understand what he'd done to make you shut down.  "The couch is fine."
He sighed, stepping closer to you.  "You said over the phone that it would make you feel better if I came over.  That's literally what I came for.  So, tell me what I can do.  I can stay up all night— or I can sleep outside on the porch if you want!"
"No!" you refused, starting to smile again.  "If it's not too weird, I thought you could be in my room with me.  I just…"
You sighed and began again, while Eddie's heart sped up a bit.
"If something happened, I wouldn't want you all the way across the house."
He looked to the bedroom door, to the couch, and back again.  "Sweets, it's a trailer," he announced with a sarcastic tone and a raised eyebrow.  "It's, like, five steps across."
"Come on," you rolled your eyes, "you know what I mean!"
"I do," he relented, "and it's fine.  I can be in your room if you want."
You smiled bashfully, looking down and pulling your shoulders up to your ears.  "Thanks," you breathed.
He hadn't asked the obvious question yet because he didn't want to seem too forward— maybe he'd walk in to your bedroom with you and see a pallet on the floor by the bed already; or, maybe he'd walk in and see a typical trailer bedroom which takes its name quite seriously and barely has room for anything but the bed.
When you guided him down the hall, he swallowed as he realized it was indeed the second.  "Sorry, it's kinda messy in here," you offered as you quickly kicked some trash aside, straightening out your bedspread a bit.  "I'm not usually this much of a slob, I swear—"
"No, it's okay, I'm in no place to judge," he promised, "and it's been clean when I've been here before."
He hadn't come over that many times, especially after you stopped smoking pot for your job so he didn't sell to you anymore.  He considered offering to toke up with you now, he thought it might call your nerves (which is why he brought some in his jacket pocket just in case), but it never really came up— you just seemed excited for a chance to get some sleep, considering you clearly hadn't been resting well.
"I'll stay on top of the sheets," he decided suddenly.  "For your modesty."
You nodded but started to pull down your pants a second later; he suddenly found the farthest corner of your ceiling quite fascinating and stared at it intently.  So much for modesty.  "I never sleep with pants," you explained as you crawled into the bed in just your loose t-shirt and white cotton panties.
"Lucky for you, I always keep mine on," he offered with a weak laugh.  Normally he would lose his shirt first, though, but it wasn't restrictive anyways, so he just laid on top of the bed carefully.  He sighed as he found a semi-comfortable position on his back, interlacing his fingers and resting the joined hands on his stomach.
"Don't tell me you actually sleep like that," you noticed with a smirk, and he looked at your face where it was peeking out from under the puffy quilt.
"Normally I sleep hanging upside down in the closet with my arms crossed," he joked, demonstrating the classic vampire-sleeping-in-coffin pose, and you laughed.
"You always struck me as a stomach sleeper," you informed him.  Wait, she's thought about that?
"I usually go for the left side," he corrected.  “You?”
“Lately I’ve just been curled up in a ball,” you admitted, “but I move around a lot— and you can wake me up if I’m snoring!”
“No, it’s fine,” he promised.
“Okay, well, goodnight,” you decided, reaching up to your bedside lamp.  Eddie began to turn onto his left side, which meant he was facing you, and adjusted the pillow under his head carefully.  He could tell you normally used this pillow because it smelled like your hair— was that why his heart was racing each time he took a breath in?
You flipped off the light, plunging the room into near-total darkness except for the distant yellow glow of another trailer’s porch light peeking through your blinds.  "It's okay if I sleep, right?" he whispered.  "You don't want me to stay up in case something—?"
"It's fine, I just want someone here," you explained.  Your voice got softer as you admitted, "I've never liked sleeping alone."
"That… explains a lot."
"Hey!" you yelped defensively, and he heard you turn under the blanket to face him.  "Are you calling me a slut?"
He raised his eyebrows.  "Are you denying it?"
You harrumphed.  "I know you can see my door from your window, but you've gotta stop spying, Ed— it's creepy.  And it's none of your business if guys are coming over."
"I know!  That's why I don't look— which is why you don't have a handy eyewitness for your B&E."
"I don't have an eyewitness because you were dead asleep," you corrected, "and so was everyone else. I'm guessing that was his motive for trying to get in at four in the morning."
There was a weighty pause.  "I don't spy on you," he insisted again.
"Okay, sure," you agreed, "not anymore."
"I never did!"
"Right,” you said, and he could hear your smirk even if he couldn’t see it.  He sighed, relenting to your depiction of him as a creep who watches you from his window— until the silence got longer and longer, and he just couldn’t help himself.
“I just wanted to make sure nobody shifty was coming around,” he blurted out, hearing you let out a quiet laugh.
“Eddie, they were all shifty,” you sighed.  He didn’t say anything, because he was afraid if he agreed too quickly it would offend you.  “Goodnight,” you offered again.
“Goodnight,” he returned quietly.
There was another long silence, almost long enough that he really thought you would fall asleep— personally, he was wired and would probably spend a few hours listening to you breathe before he drifted off— until you spoke again just a bit later.  "You're not cold, are you?" you whispered.
"Huh?  No, no," he denied.  Yes.
"You can get under the covers…"
God, he wanted to. And he figured he'd be able to control himself and everything— but he hesitated.  It wasn't too far, right?  Friends can share beds… even if he really didn't think until now that you and him actually were that kind of friends.  It's not like you were ever especially close, you just talked sometimes, even less now that you weren't a customer.  He was pretty surprised when you called him to ask for this.
And in the dark, Eddie got a little braver.
"Why did you ask me to come here?" he suddenly interrogated, until he heard how sleazy that question sounded.  "Uh, I mean, not why did you ask me to come here, but… why did you ask me?"
"Because I trust you," you answered simply.  "You always made me feel safe.  There aren't a lot of guys in this trailer park that I want here to try to defend me if it comes down to it— I mean, fuck, one of them is probably the guy who tried to break in that night!"
He nodded, already trying to imagine which of those lowlifes might try to hurt you— and wondering if he could take them.  He sighed when he realized that he didn't have much chance fighting any of the men here.  Unless it was Ricky Lupowski, Eddie had no shot— but even then, he didn't exactly want to beat up a twelve-year-old.  Hell, you could take Ricky if he was giving you any trouble, Eddie knew you were pretty tough: that was part of why it was so jarring to see you this vulnerable.  "I'm not the toughest guy you could call, though," he reminded you.  "I know people think I look kinda scary, but—"
"I know," you agreed.  "You're not the toughest guy, but… you're the safest."
Suddenly he wanted to switch his story— me, safe?  Nah, babe, danger's my middle name!  Hardened criminal, metal guitarist, occasionally maker of an illegal U-turn—
"That's why I wanted you to come," you finished, "and it's why I don't care if you get under the covers if you're cold up there."
From the looks of the guys he'd seen coming to your door when he definitely wasn't spying, it seemed like danger was usually what you wanted between your sheets.  And sure, Eddie wasn't exactly the valedictorian in khakis that he assumed every girl wants to bring home to mom— but he knew he wasn't like your usual fare either: no motorcycle, no neck or face tattoos, no prison time (yet).  
“B-but don’t feel like you have to,” you suddenly mitigated.
“No, it’s cool,” he decided as he curled his legs up to his chest so he could slip under the blanket and top sheet.  “They, uh, feel nice…”
“Thanks,” you mumbled. 
“Are they expensive or something?” he wondered as he adjusted himself in them— you were still a few inches away from him, but somehow it was like he could feel your body heat from all the way over here.
“No, they’re just clean,” you explained.
“Right…” he trailed off.  “Anyways, I’m glad you trust me— not just ‘cause it means I get to sleep under the covers.”
You snorted.  “Sure,” you shrugged.
“I mean it— if I can make you feel safer, that’s good,” he announced.  He was, in part, trying to convince himself; because in a certain way, it did sting.  You invited him here specifically because you knew he wouldn’t try anything, and you were right, but he sort of wished sometimes that he was the kind of guy you’d invite over for some comfort of the non-platonic variety.  But, he still really enjoyed being the guy that made you laugh, and the guy that made you feel safe, and the guy that got to be here with you right now.
"Actually, I thought if Wayne answered the phone, I might ask him to come,” you admitted.  “He told me when I first moved in to let him know if anybody here gave me any trouble— including but not limited to you.”
Sounds like Wayne.
“But I figured he'd turn it down— like, he'd say something about how I'm an unmarried young lady and he wouldn't wanna 'disrespect' me," you chuckled.  
"Yeah, he's pretty old school," Eddie agreed, "but he'd keep you safe for sure.  He actually would have brought a gun.  If he decided to come in the damn trailer at all."
“Yeah,” you laughed, “old people are weird.  Like, apparently they think if you spend the night here that’s the same as us having sex?”
He laughed too.  “Yeah, that’s so crazy.  ‘Cause obviously we’re not…”
“Of course!” you agreed emphatically.  “You’re just doing me a favor.  Which I really appreciate— I know it’s probably harder for you to sleep here.”
“No, it’s great, actually,” he blurted out— realizing it sounded sort of weird once it was out of his mouth.  “For Wayne, I mean.  He got to upgrade from the fold-out bed tonight.”
“Oh, that’s good,” you hummed, but his eyebrows furrowed when he felt you shake.  It happened again, and he realized: “Sweets, are you shivering?”
“Y-yeah, but the sheets are just cold still,” you explained.  
“You took off your pants!” he remembered.
“Well, I can’t sleep with them on!” 
“Yeah, but you can’t sleep if you’re freezing, either,” he sighed.  “Did you ever get your heater fixed?”
“Um…”
He frowned.  “Didn’t that break like two months ago?”
“Y-yeah, but who needs a heater in August?”
“It’s not August,” he reminded you.
“But it was when it broke.”
He rolled his eyes, but then you shivered again.  “It dropped, like, twenty degrees when this rain came in,” he reminded you.  
“Yeah, I noticed,” you replied.
The next time you shivered, he heard your teeth chattering, and he instinctively scooted closer to you.  “Is there another blanket I can get you?” he asked.
“No, but—” you began, and his breath caught when he felt your hand— your ice cold hand— reach out and touch his shoulder.  “You can just—”
You moved closer to him and he started to move back.  “I don’t think I should—”
"Just, hold me?” you pleaded in a quiet, meek voice.  “So I can get warm enough to fall asleep?"
God, he was so completely powerless to you asking that, even if he knew it was a bad idea.  He wanted to help you so badly— and he knew it was more than your temperature that made you ask him for that.  He’d never seen you like this: scared and weak and worried.  “O-okay,” he agreed quietly, reaching his arms out and letting you settle between them.
Your face pressed to his chest, your nose poking his skin that was left exposed by the low and jagged cut— and the tip of that was cold too, he could just imagine giving it a little kiss.
“Is this okay?” he asked, and he felt you nod.  Carefully, he let his arm rest so it draped around you— but he didn’t let his hand touch anything but the sheets on the other side.
You hummed as you pressed yourself against him even more, your legs tangling with his, your tits— oh god, he couldn’t even think about your tits right now, because if he did he would remember that they were squished up on his torso and he’d wonder if being so cold meant your nipples were hard—
He cleared his throat, knowing that through his sweatpants, his dick was pressed to your tummy.  He willed it to somehow not get hard from this, putting all his energy into not moving or reacting at all.
“Thanks,” you whispered.  “This helps a lot.”
“Of course,” he breathed in return.  “Wh-whatever helps…”
He felt you take a deep breath against his skin, the softest fan of warm air hitting him when you exhaled.  Your arm was around him, but he hissed when you slid your hand up and the cold skin made contact with his bare back.  “Sorry,” you reacted instantly.
“No, it’s okay— you’ll warm up soon,” he promised.
“Yeah,” you agreed, “why are you so warm?”
Now he understood why the phrase ‘you make me hot’ meant that you were attracted to someone.  He nearly said it out loud, guess I’m just hot for you, but amazingly he caught himself.  Instead he only shrugged.
“I’m glad you came over,” you told him, and he could hear your voice getting a little more slurred— you were so tired, poor thing, you’d mentioned over the phone that you hadn’t really been sleeping.
“Can you really fall asleep like this?” he asked quietly.  Cause I sure can’t.
“No, I was just gonna get warm,” you admitted, “I’ll turn the other way when it’s time to sleep.”
Turn the other way… wait, she doesn’t mean—
Yeah, you did.  A few minutes later you flipped yourself around with a sleepy mumble of ‘g’night, Ed’ and made him into your unwilling big spoon.
Okay, not totally unwilling, but completely in over his head.  His problem wasn’t with the cuddling, it was with knowing it was all just supposed to be friendly, it was with wondering if you were coming onto him (unlikely) or just stupid (also unlikely), it was with trying not to get a horribly-timed but perfectly-warranted boner.
It was just these stupid sweatpants and your little white panties between him and your ass— he could feel the shape of it, even the warmth of your skin, through everything and he was going to lose his goddamn mind. 
You did move around in your sleep, like you warned him that you would, but you hadn’t warned him about those pretty sighs, the soft little hums, the way you’d stretch a bit and arch your back…
For the first hour, he just held you, and listened to you, and drank it all in.
You warmed up quick while he was holding you, you felt so nice to hold— he wanted to hold you tighter and pull you closer and kiss your cheek or your ear or your shoulder, but he couldn’t.  He almost wondered if he could, without waking you up, as he started to get sleepier himself and his logic began to slip.
He fell asleep in that way where he didn’t even realize he’d been asleep when he woke up, if you’d asked him he would’ve denied it— but you weren’t asking him, you were holding his arm close to your chest, pressing back against him, rubbing against him.
Oh god, he was hard, he was fucking throbbing, and you were breathing heavier as you grinded up on him.
When he opened his mouth, he fully intended on asking you what you were doing, or maybe apologizing for his boner, but then you arched your back harder, and he realized two things: one, you knew exactly what you were doing; and two, he didn’t need to apologize.  So, instead, he let a low groan fall from his lips, and you moaned a bit in reply.
He rocked his hips, pushing his cock right between where your panties were riding up and hugging your ass; you moaned again, still shaky but a bit more confident, and he wondered if maybe he was dreaming.  It wouldn’t be the first time he dreamt about this.
His hand was already on your chest, so he only had to move his hand down a bit to slip his fingers inside your tight t-shirt and feel your tits.  He groaned as soon as he felt how soft your skin was, how hard and excited your nipples were.  Your hips gyrated when he played with them, and feeling the control he had over you from such a simple action— just one slight curl of his finger and you gasped and arched your back deeper, your whole body under his command— made his cock twitch and weep inside his sweats.
When he took his hand out of your shirt and moved down to hold your hip tightly instead, you whimpered quietly.  “Eddie,” you moaned under your breath, instantly bringing him back to reality; this was actually happening.
Guilt twisted in his chest, but need still controlled his mind.  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked quickly.
“N-no!” you whimpered.  “I like it.”
He sighed and kept going with your blessing, securing his grip on your hips and letting his fingertips toy with the elastic holding up your panties.  When he thrusted again, a long drag of his cock against you that let you both feel every detail of each other, your head fell back and your neck was right there for the taking.
He leaned down and latched his lips onto it, kissing all along your pulse, and you moaned louder.  "You can fuck me if you want."
That should've been hot— and it sort of was, especially in your whispered voice— but it hurt his heart a little bit and he stopped kissing you.  "If I want?" he repeated, feeling you nod against his shoulder.  "What do you want, sweets?"
"I… I want you to," you answered.
"Baby," he whispered, feeling you shiver in his arms when he said it— in a different way than before.  "I— I know you're feeling vulnerable right now… I wouldn't wanna take advantage."
"You wouldn't be."
"You don't need to do this to make me stay."
"You don't need to do this to make me want you here," you replied.  "But I want you.  Please, Ed."
He hadn't been trying to make you beg, he almost felt guilty for it— making this poor girl plead with him for some affection when she's scared and alone.  But he was too busy feeling turned on like crazy to feel really guilty; because he never thought he'd hear you beg for him like that, and it was beautiful.  Sexy, yes, and erotic, but most of all beautiful.
Rolling you onto your back, he climbed up over you and felt your legs spread instantly— god, that was just too perfect.
In the dark, he still couldn’t see much, but there was just enough light to see your eyes blinking up at him.  It reminded him why he called you sweets as much as he could get away with it: because you were just so sweet, the sweetest eyes, the sweetest smile, the sweetest lips that he wanted to kiss until they were swollen and wet—
He grabbed your panties at the seam on your hip and snapped them in two; you gasped as he tossed them away, wiggling under him excitedly.  When he laid his body on top of yours now, he could feel your pussy through his pajamas.  Speaking of swollen and wet…
“Oh my god,” you breathed, reaching up to hold onto his bicep— Wesson, specifically.  “Eddie, you’re— fuck, get these off…”
Your free hand started tugging on the waistband of his pants, and just your fingers ghosting over his hip was enough to make him moan.  He grabbed where the gray fabric gathered, about to help you pull them down, until he remembered.  "Shit, I, uh," he choked, "I didn't bring any condoms."
Obviously.  Because what kind of creep brings condoms when his friend asks for help?  But now he was kicking himself wishing he'd had the foresight somehow.
"I could go back and—"
"No," you interrupted, clutching at his tank top.  "Don't leave, you don't need to wear one anyways."
Oh, dangerous territory.  Compulsory, cautionary health class videos flashing through his mind…
"I mean, you're clean, right?" you assumed.
"Yeah, I've never— well, I've never actually done it without protection before, so—"
"Me either," you explained, "and I'm on the pill— and I… I wanna feel you."
"That's… hot," he admitted with a tilted grin.  "Shit, really?"
You bit your lip as you nodded, and he growled playfully at you as he leaned in and kissed your neck.  You writhed beneath him happily, your plump little mound rubbing on him through his sweats— and he would give you anything you wanted after you did that.
"Y'wanna feel me, sweets?" he taunted lowly.  "Wanna feel my cock stretching you out?  We can do that.  Gonna fuck you raw."
You whined and arched your back.  "Please, Eddie— that's what I want."
"Shh," he soothed, reaching down to push the stretchy waistband over his hips to his thighs.  His cock sprang free and brushed on the inside of your leg for a moment, making you move your hips again— so he held them down with one hand.  "Baby, I'm gonna give it to you, okay?  Calm down."
"I just need you," you whispered, tugging on his shirt again.  "Eddie, I just need you inside me—"
He moved his head between your lips, groaning at how warm you were already— god, you must be like an oven inside.
When he found your opening, he didn't waste much time before pressing forward and sliding himself in.  It was a specific feeling— overwhelming, yet irresistible.  It was nearly too much for both of you and yet he had to keep going, had to fill more of you until his pelvis was grinding on your clit and the tip of his cock was reaching right to the end of you.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned the second he was buried inside— not just because it felt good, but because he knew instantly he couldn't go back now.  Feeling you bare, getting drenched by your sticky, hot walls… how was he supposed to be satisfied with anything else again?  Or maybe it wasn't the lack of a barrier that made it so good— maybe that was just you.
Either way, he didn't want to go back: to condoms, to other girls, to any of it.  He didn't want anything but this.
"Baby," he said again, holding you a little tighter.  "Is this how you want it?  Deep and slow?"
You whined quietly, clutching at his back.  "Y-you can go a little faster," you offered.
"Mm," he moaned as he rocked his hips more quickly, your heat gripping him so well he struggled to control himself.  "Like this?"
"Yes," you praised, "oh, Eddie, just like that— fuck me like that."
Christ.  You were gonna make him lose it too fast, talking like that and feeling so damn good.  You were like heaven inside— cozy and warm like a living room on a Christmas card.  Which, yes, he was well aware was a bizarre thing to compare a vagina to, but he wasn't gonna say it out loud or anything!  Babe, your pussy's like a Norman Rockwell painting might not even be Eddie's worst attempt at dirty talk in his life, to be honest.
"Ah, fuck," you panted, arching your back as he gave you a little more force with his thrusts.  "Did you ever… did you think about this?"
"Yeah," he admitted instantly.  "I mean, a few times.  It's hard not to…"
"Did you hope something would happen tonight?" you pressed, voice all wavery and breathless.
At best, he had hoped the way you hope you're gonna win the lottery or that a unicorn will appear in your yard.  "I didn't think about it like that," he assured, "I knew you were scared, I just—" he hissed as he struggled to focus on this conversation with everything he was feeling— "wanted to protect you."
Then the thought hit him, and he had to ask.
"Did you know something would happen tonight?" he returned.
"I told myself I wouldn't," you breathed, "but you… smell really nice."
Holy shit, I owe Wayne my life for getting me this cologne for my birthday last year.
"And you're so sweet," you added with a pant, "and honestly I've wanted you since—"
"Don't tell me," he interrupted, "I don't wanna know— unless you're about to say since you walked in the door, I'll drive myself crazy knowing I could've had you sooner, that we could've been doing this for months."
You sighed in agreement; it seemed like you were getting even wetter the longer he went on, and he groaned as he heard the beautifully filthy noise of his cock churning inside your walls— and it felt even better than it sounded.
"Feels so good," he blurted out, resting his forehead on the pillow just beside yours.  
"You too," you sighed.  "S'big, Eddie, and without anything I can feel how warm you are…"
"Warm, me?" he laughed thinly.  "Shit, you feel so hot inside I figured I felt like a popsicle to you."
You giggled, and god, what a beautiful sound.  Making you laugh was an honor enough— if he could make you come, too, he'd be king of the world.
In the spirit of that goal, he started fucking you a little faster, pressing in all the way with every thrust.
"Oh god, Eddie, so deep, you're so deep," you groaned.  "Fuck!”
He grinned proudly, reaching under you to move your hips— he lifted them just how he wanted them, forcing his cock even deeper inside you the next time he thrusted, and he got to grope your ass a bit so it was really a win-win.
He saw your eyes roll back and it just made him want to fuck you even harder.
“Tell me what you need,” he asked.  “Tell me how to help you, sweets.”
“I— I just need you to touch me,” you returned, your voice sounding a little hoarse. 
“Where?”
“Anywhere,” you choked, “everywhere… your hands feel good.”  He groped your tits first— easy choice— and heard you mewl happily.  “Fuck,” you breathed when he pinched a tender nipple, and he felt your walls bare down on him for a moment— so he did it again.
“You’re so sensitive,” he noticed proudly, beginning to drag his hand down over your abdomen as he watched the anticipation build on your face.  “How about your little button, s’it sensitive too?”
“Yeah, fuck,” you encouraged, moaning and dropping your head back onto the pillow as he gently pressed his thumb to your bud.  He’d barely started rubbing in circles before your moans got louder and higher-pitched; maybe it was a stupid comparison, but it reminded him of playing his beloved guitar— the other lady in his life.  He wanted to play your body like his instrument, he wanted to make music even more beautiful come out of you.
So he rubbed harder, and picked up his pace again— he had to flex his gut and keep it tight to try to stave off his own orgasm, his balls were already tightening up a bit as he got closer, but he knew he could hold off as long as it was to keep you satisfied.
“So good,” you praised, “it feels— fuck, I’m gonna—”
“I know,” he cooed.  “I know, you can come, sweets— I wanna feel you come around me.  Just tell me what you need.”
“Jus’ don’t stop,” you begged, “don’t stop, Eddie, just like— fuck!  Right there, oh my god—”
Is it just me, or is she liking this a lot more than the other girls did?  Did I get awesome at sex sometime in the last few weeks?
But really, he knew it was just that it was you and him together— it felt like you were made for each other, like he fit inside you perfectly.  He rubbed your clit even harder, technically disobeying your command of just like that, but it went over okay since you nearly screamed at the feeling.  "Eddie, I'm coming, I'm coming!" you kept saying, voice thin and strained, tightening up around him so hard he nearly struggled to pull back so he could keep up his pace.
"That's my girl," he praised, loving the way it felt to call you that— so he kept doing it.  "My girl, my girl," he chanted with each thrust into your flexing channel.  
“Oh god,” you sobbed, pushing his hand away from your clit; it must have become too sensitive right after coming.  Your hands reached up and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him down to lay more of his weight on you.  “Eddie, I— f-fuck, it’s so—”
“Shh,” he cooed, “it’s okay— it’s not too much is it?”
“Almost,” you whimpered, “b-but I don’t want you to stop.”
He fucked you faster, feeling you quiver under and around him; he wrapped you up in his arms tightly, keeping you still so he could slam everything into you at once, letting your somehow-even-tighter-now walls massage his throbbing cock.  "I-I don't know how much more of this I can take," he grunted, "you feel so—"
"I want you to come," you encouraged.
“Where?” he asked roughly, lips by your ear as he laid his head next to yours on the pillow.
You hesitated, and he could almost hear the gears in your head turning.  He knew you were considering it, and it made him groan just realizing that you wanted to let him fill you.
“You want it inside, baby?” he asked in a rough whisper, and you nodded with a quiet moan.
“Yeah,” you admitted, hands holding onto him tighter until he felt your nails bite his flushed skin.  “Yeah, fuck, that’s hot.”
He fucked you faster with a groan; his balls were starting to get sore from trying to hold back, but he didn’t want it to end yet— he couldn’t even be sure you would wanna do it again.  He couldn’t let this moment be over so soon—
“Eddie, I’m yours, make me yours,” you pleaded.  Nevermind, he could let this moment be over, because god damn hearing you talk like that didn’t leave him any other option but to come right fucking now.
"You're sure it's okay to come inside?" he breathed.  "I can pull out—"
"It's more than okay," you insisted, "Eddie, I want it so bad, please—"
"Don't say please," he instructed, "I was just checking— I'm gonna give you whatever you want, okay?  You want me to fill you with my come, I will.  You don't have to beg me for anything, it's all yours."
"Oh," you moaned, "say that again."
"All yours, it's all yours, sweets," he promised.  "Whatever you want from me.  Which, right now, is all this fuckin' come in your cute little pussy, right?"
"Yes," you sighed.
"I'll give you everything," he assured as he fucked you faster.  "Every drop, all this come is for you, baby."
“Oh god,” you hissed, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.
“You really mine, sweets?” he whispered— you wouldn’t be able to hear him over the slamming of his hips on yours if he wasn’t speaking right by your ear.
“Yeah,” you answered breathlessly.
“Promise,” he demanded.
“Yours,” you insisted, “m’yours, Eddie, had such a big, stupid crush on you—”
“Fuck!” he spat, digging his fingers into your soft thighs as the first ropes of come sprayed from his cock; it felt so different, knowing it wasn’t just filling a latex reservoir but filling you, your perfect body, your warm pussy—
You sighed out his name one more time, tightening your arms and legs around him, keeping him close and whimpering with each soft breath; you sounded so beautiful, he almost felt guilty for dirtying you this way, but it was worth it… and you seemed to be enjoying yourself too.
He let out a long, hot breath as he stilled, feeling the last few drops of his come dribble out and into you; “Shit,” he hissed, “that— fuck.”
You laughed quietly in agreement.  “Yeah.”
He started to try to pull out, but you whined and hugged him again.  “Don’t go yet,” you begged.
“Okay,” he relented, relaxing on top of you.  “Am I crushing you?”
“No,” you laughed, “you’re not that heavy.”
“Good,” he mumbled as he planted a quick kiss on your temple.  
You moved a little bit and he hissed, having to hold you still by your hips.  
“D-don’t,” he choked, “I’m still— it’s really sensitive…”
“Oh, really?” you grinned, clenching on him on purpose to make him grunt and laugh quietly.
“Fuck,” he warned, “you’re tryin’ to drive me crazy, huh?”
“A li’l bit,” you admitted mischievously.
“Can you… feel it?” he wondered.  “Like, without a condom, can you feel my, uh, come?”
You considered it for a second.  “Not really, m’all, like, numb right now,” you admitted with a little giggle.  “But I could feel your cock, like… moving.  Even when you weren’t moving.  I dunno if that makes sense…”
“No, it does,” he nodded.
“What did it… feel like for you?” you asked, sounding almost nervous and shy again.  How could you act shy after that?
“Uh, fuckin’ amazing,” he laughed.  “You’re incredible.  Did you really mean what you said?  About, um… being mine?”
He felt your breath catch, and he reached up to pet your head for a second, moving some stray hair out of  your face.  
“Listen, it’s okay if you were just caught up in the moment,” he offered.  “I understand.”
“Do you understand because you just wanna be friends after this?” you asked.  “Or do you understand because you’re super sweet and don’t want me to feel pressured to sleep with you again?”
“Um… guess it’s the second one,” he decided, face getting warm.  “I mean, I’m okay being friends after this.  I’m extra okay being friends with benefits.  But if I’m being honest, sweets, I wanna be your boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” you encouraged, the smile in your voice making his heart twist.
“Yeah,” he answered.
You held his face and kissed him— soft, gentle, sweet just like you.  He kissed you back, lifting his head and deepening it as much as he could get away with; you moaned against his lips, and it was so sexy he almost wondered if he could give you another load inside without even having to pull out—
But you broke away and looked up at him with heavy eyes, and he realized how tired you really were.  “We can talk in the morning,” he decided, “you just need to get some rest, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed.  He carefully pulled out, trying not to overstimulate his softened cock, and laid behind you to be your big spoon again.  “This feels nice,” you hummed.  “I mean, m’kinda sticky and gross and all, but I feel safe.”
“Mm,” he agreed, fluttering his eyes shut— he was more tired than he realized, and the dark was already pulling him deeper as he held you.  “Me too, actually.”
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kylelover · 1 year
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MAIN 4 SP BOYS FIRST TIME CUDDLING WITH READER.
hey! Hope you guys like this:) it's my first time writing these hdjssb
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STAN MARSH
It was a rainy day outside and you were hanging out at your boyfriends house
which smelled a lot like weed (and pine trees for some reason...) but you got used to it
You were sitting on his sofa watching a true crime movie (he literally forced you to watch it with him)
He sat on one edge of the sofa and you on the other
Stan was focused on the screen, and he suddenly noticed you moved closer to him
You put your head on his chest and your arm around his neck
Stan's cheeks went from normal tint to a crimsom red. He was blushing really bad, and he looked cute.
He really didnt know what to do
He put his arm around your waist and pulled you closer
You guys were infatuated with each others scent
He smelled like lavender and a soft touch of alcohol... it was... comforting in some way
And you were using your iconic perfume/cologne
You were staring at the screen, your head on Stan's shoulder. His eyes were staring at you the whole time, he was mesmerized.
He started feeling light-headed, and felt like there was a knot on his throat.
He was feeling nauseous.
Uh, Oh.
He knew what was coming, Stan didnt want you to see him puke so he always tried to hide it from you, however, it was kind of obvious.
"Sorry babe, I'll be right back."
He got up from the sofa, bad idea. He instantly vomited on the counter.
He was so embarrassed 😭 you comforted him and told him it was okay, which made him feel kind of better about it.
After that, his nauseas became less intense, and both lovers cuddled all night.
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KYLE BROFLOVSKI
Team Stan was doing a sleepover at Cartmans house. All of you had sleeping bags
Kyle had his old Terrence and Phillip one, Stan had a light yellow one and Kenny a dusty violet sleeping bag.
And, of course, Cartman slept on his bed with extremely comfortable pillows.
You and your friends were playing video games, a fighting one to be more specific.
since it was only for 4 players you guys took turns.
You were scrolling on your phone, sitting on the sofa and every once in a while watched how the boys played.
"PLAYER 3, ELIMINATED." the sudden noise made you flinch a little bit.
"Dude, are you serious?" Kyle huffed. "Haha, yes! That's for killing me last round, asshole!" The chubby boy laughed and celebrated after eliminating the ginger haired boy.
You heard a sigh near you.
"Hello, love." Kyles voice cracked a little bit since he sat down next to you a little roughly
'Love' oh, how you adored him calling you that. Kyle always used those nicknames with you, such as princess, dear, sometimes even babe.
"Hey." you answered softly.
Instantaneously, you felt weight on your shoulders.
Kyle was a tryhard when it came to fighting videogames, so he was a little tired.
You put your arm around his and grabbed his hand. He nuzzled his head on your neck and whispered, "Sorry, is it okay if I just– if we cuddle?" The boy was nervous. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable by just hugging you randomly.
"Yeah, it's fine." you smiled back at him.
Now, there was a tired boy with his head resting on your shoulder, you on his arms as he held you like he was protecting you.
You could feel his soft, curly haired locks touch your skin in such a gentle way. It tickled your cheek a little...
You felt secured around him, and he did as well.
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ERIC CARTMAN
You were watching meme videos while sitting on his bed
Cartman had cuddled a few times he already knew what to do (cough, cough... heidi), so when you asked him if you could cuddle, he wasn't shocked, I mean, who wouldn't want to do it with him, right? (Only you do)
It was 4am so both of you guys were tired, he just nodded slightly at your response which meant yes.
You immediately threw your arms around him and put your head on his soft chest
You never knew why??? he was??? so comfy?? he felt like a pillow.
Cartman moved his arm to grab your arm slightly.
You closed your eyes as the boy watched his videos in silence.
It was rare the moments like these that you had with him since he doesn't want to look "weak" around people. So you appreciated every tiny bit of it.
His scent filled your nose with satisfaction, he always smelled like a combination of cookies and his mothers clothing perfume.
You could hear as the crickets sang, the branches moved slowly and hit the window with almost no impact, the sound of Eric's phone. It all echoed on your ear.
It felt so normal, even though it was the first time you guys did this.
The sounds became more muffled as your eyes started closing. The sound of his heart started fading more and more.
Then, you fell asleep, next to your beloved boyfriend.
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KENNY MCCORMICK
Today was a really snowy day. And that was bad. Atleast for South Park High.
The doors were all locked since they were being covered by snow on the outside.
The school told everyone to calm down and that they were all staying in the gym at the moment until the snowfall is over.
Which meant you had to sleep over in school.
You and Kenny were sitting side by side, with your backs against the wall.
The lights were dimmed and sometimes they flickered.
You and him were chatting casual stuff.
Kenny looked at you for a long while, which made you question him.
"Is something wrong?" He nodded his head "My back kinda hurts." He looked tired, like at any given moment he would just collapse.
"Oh lord, i didnt even notice how exhausted you looked... Kenny, if your back hurts maybe you can sleep on top of me?"
You didnt realise how straightforward you were. Kenny looked at you warmly, he loved how caring you were towards him.
"I'd love to be on top of you" He smirked as he moved in front of you and slowly put his head on your lap.
You giggled softly at him, lord, he was such a character.
You were kind of nervous... butterflies building up on your stomach. Kenny always looked so pretty, you never knew how he did it to be so good-looking at all times.
He looked up and smiled at you, his crooked teeth showing up. You always thought he looked cute when he did this as you could see his dimples perfectly.
You played with his hair, it was so soft and fluffy.
His hair always looked so messy yet so nice.
You didnt even notice you were staring until he remarked it.
"Hey, dont need to stare so hard, I wont leave."
You ruffled his hair. "Oh, shut. I love you."
He sat up straighter as you hugged him from behind and he held your hands delicately.
Kenny always felt so giddy and goofy when he was around his partner, especially right now since he had realised you were cuddling, but tried to play it cool.
And you stayed like that for hours. Just rambling and talking about stuff you like.
You didnt realise time went so fast that the birds started chirping. God, you really spoke until 7am? Especially when you spent it with people you loved, even more if it was Kenny.
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dualitue · 2 months
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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 !
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★ mentions of manipulation + obsession and abusive relationship + semi-public sex + jealousy + thirst for academic validation (so real)
★ this one is especially for my lovely girlies who constantly dream about getting fucked brutally and also be the top of their class. i deserve to be number one or turn into dust, nothing in between that.
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It's not a game of survival after all, you try to remind yourself all the time. It's just some classes, nothing that sleepless nights of studying cannot solve. However thanks to your stubborn professor who despises handing out higher grades, (the ones that you strongly believe that you deserve) you always find yourself back to square one. Studying, studying, studying and never getting the highest mark. At first, you felt like you haven't been studying hard enough—but after failing his class twice, you decided to take the same class from a different professor.
Professor Zayne.
What a dreamy guy, you'd hear from the other girls at the halls—whispering to each other excitedly. And you truly get the hype, really. He's tall, handsome, and there's this enchanting thing surrounding him that nails you to ground every time you run into him. His voice never fails to shake you to your core, and every time you feel struck by his charms, you need a breath of fresh air to get back into your right mind.
As if he senses that mental distance that you try to put, Professor Zayne always finds a way to draw you closer, pulling you back into that whirlwind of mixed emotions. Your mouth goes dry as his fingertips slightly brush over your tense shoulders during quizzes, or the way he stares into your eyes to peek into the depths of your soul even though he's talking to someone else.
Even though you don't want to admit, there's only a little you can do about this strange magnetic force between you and your beloved professor. Under that distant and emotionless face lies a soft man who makes you feel worthy of all that you've missed out on up until now, and you've been proved with such examples of that countless times.
That's when it became a survival game; when he offered you to be his assistant. Of course, nothing serious—you haven't graduated after all, so all you're assigned with are some small stuff that are probably irrelevant and carry no importance.
Yet, the way the corner of his lips curl into the slightest bit of a smile gets your heart beating faster whenever you successfully complete a task.
"Like the good girl you are," he says, an underlying tone of amusement can be sensed in his voice as he speaks. And you always, desperately, leave claw marks on every praise and compliment he gives you.
Over the course of the time you two have spent together, Zayne has taught you one thing; to be greedy. From unable to voice your wants in a natural way, you've become someone who can demand what they want. However, this dynamic has a little secret to it; if Zayne is the one giving you the praise you want, even though both of you know that you deserve it more than anyone, he makes you work for it.
It has started with your vent about your previous professor being an asshole about grading papers; he'd listen to you intently as you let your heart all out and get his study desk all messy. Broken sobs between your hatred filled words; you do deserve better and you do know that, so why should it be hard to enjoy the satisfaction of your well deserved success?
With his big, soft hand and warm palm Zayne would cup your red and burning cheek—his thumb gently rubbing your cheekbone; supporting you with a comfort that you've never known before. It didn't take long for you to get used to it; and Zayne never stopped making you ask for more.
"Yeah, sweet girl, get comfy there," he says; and it's almost impossible to be comfortable under his desk, you feel your knees getting bruised and your shoulders aching as your fingers hurriedly unzip his pants and free his hardened cock from his clothes. But, what else can you do to earn that addicting kiss, lingering on your lips even after days... or the way he makes you lie down on his cramped desk. Some folders hurt your back and your legs tremble as his fingers bury themselves deep in your cunt; slick sounds filling his room as he lands a slap to your pussy every time you get slightly loud.
What he loves most is when you let him fuck you before his classes. He hurriedly strips you off your clothes, his skilled fingers exploring your squirming body as if time is abundant. He sometimes cages your body between his firm chest and the cold wall as he sloppily fucks you from behind, or he gets you on his lap to feel your cunt squeeze around his twitching cunt when you take all of it...
The line, if there's any, between who knows what gets blurry with each interaction. Is this just a simple thing, or are you two using each other? It's not like he's not paying attention to you after these small interactions; he checks your essays the moment you send them, helping you with any questions you have or any assignment related stuff. What he definitely doesn't enjoy is that the way you help others in your class when they ask nicely.
On days that he sees other students around you, asking you stuff about his class, he simply uses you like a fuckdoll. Abusing your sensitive cunt, pulling back just as you're about to cum around his cock and spilling on your panties to remind you that you're not the one who can help, but the one who needs help.
And slowly but surely he manages to engrave that to your brain after, after a whole semester, you're almost dependent on him. No assignment feels good enough to be submitted before he approves, no studying session is efficient enough if he doesn't have you on his lap, grinding against his hard cock. No day is a good day if he hasn't kissed you until you feel dizzy. And no boys or your toys are able to fill you up the way he does. Some nights you find yourself in your bed, trembling fingers buried deep in your cunt, trying to touch the spots he easily touches. But it ends the same; you, in his room the next morning, begging him to make you cum because it's driving you insane.
And the praises, and the compliments and all of that don't feel enough, too. No claw marks on anything anymore, just this insatiable desire in you to seek a shelter in his loving arms.
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wheeboo · 8 days
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mine | joshua hong
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SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k
requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀
notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3
join the 2k celebration!
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ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."
Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.
Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.
This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.
You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).
However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.
Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.
"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."
A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."
A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."
"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."
"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."
His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.
You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.
Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.
The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.
You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).
It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.
...does his eyes search for yours too?
By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.
"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"
The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.
You blink at him. "What?"
He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."
You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.
"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."
You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?
"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.
Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"
You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."
At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.
"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."
You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.
But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.
"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.
Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.
"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."
You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."
Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.
Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.
"Getting tired?" he asks you.
You give a small nod. "Just a little."
A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?
You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.
"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"
Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.
"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."
He hesitates. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."
Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.
He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.
"Hey, Y/N?"
You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."
The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.
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TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."
A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.
Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.
"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.
"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.
It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.
Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.
You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.
"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.
Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.
But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.
"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."
The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.
You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.
"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."
You hesitantly meet his eyes.
"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"
You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.
He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.
Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.
You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.
"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.
You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.
"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"
It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.
"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."
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THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"
The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.
"Y/N, wait𑁋"
"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."
The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.
You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.
But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.
"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"
"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"
Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.
But instead, he just steps closer to you.
"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."
Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.
With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.
"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."
You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"
This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.
"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."
This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.
"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."
Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.
"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."
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FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."
A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.
"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.
Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.
You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"
"Marry me."
You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.
There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.
And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.
You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.
You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.
When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."
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another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T
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luveline · 1 year
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if you’re taking joel requests here’s one :3
touch-starved!joel who isn’t aware he’s touch starved but then extremely affectionate reader comes along and just always! touches! him! loving & intentional touches, casual touches—all of it drives him wild and he loves it!!
thank you!! I hope this is okay! Touch-starved Joel who wants you but doesn't know how to want you w/ mutual pining ♥︎ fem!reader 2k
Joel wishes you wouldn't work the same shifts as him. Wishes you didn't have to work any shifts at all, wishes you didn't know this life, but you do. He wishes you wouldn't pick all the high-paying, devastating jobs that he does, wishes you didn't insist on keeping him company. And above all, he wishes you wouldn't touch him, because he can't handle the way that he feels when you do. 
Sharing shifts turns to seeing one another outside of the old meat market by accident. In turn, that becomes purposeful. Before he really knows it, you're comfortable enough to come by his apartment and you'll wait there even when he isn't home just to see him. Precious hours of your life spent curled in on yourself at his door. 
Joel nudges your sleeping body with his shoe and then feels like the world's biggest asshole. He sighs, kneeling down despite his aching back, and shakes your shoulder. He notices how soft your jaw looks when you sleep and has to look away, lest he think about it too much now, and remember it later. You have this habit of chasing him into bed when you're not there. 
Your hand wakes before your eyes do, and you curl your fingers around his wrist, half on his sleeve and half on his skin. Where you connect hums with heat. 
"Why are you out here?" He changes his prerogative, feeling as though chastisement is more important. "You have no sense of danger, even now. Get up." 
He doesn't speak without fondness. You'd have to look hard to find it, but it's undoubtedly there.
His tone has you awake and alert quickly, your gaze on his face. "I do," you say croakily, letting him pull you into a standing position. 
"Then what are you doing out here?" 
"I can't call first… You look tired." 
"I am. I'm not staying up." He pulls his wrist from your lingering grasp. "Should've called."
"You act like you don't like me," you say without inflection, following him in through the door and closing it softly behind you. 
He drops his jacket over the back of the couch and scrubs his face with both hands. His back aches from standing and heaving all day, his arms tight with a cramping tension. 
If he were younger he'd turn around and wrap you up in his arms. He'd tell you what he really thinks of you, your head hooked in the crook of his arm, his free hand roaming lazily over your back. His pinky finger would run along the line of your jeans playfully, and maybe you'd laugh. You don't laugh as much as you should. 
"Are you hungry?" he asks. 
"No, Joel."
You'd lie even if you were. 
He moves into the kitchen, makes himself a small glass of water, and leans against the counter. He tries not to drink it like a total pig knowing you're watching, but he's dehydrated and cotton-mouthed. 
The window paints you in a weak light, like iced tea. You pick over his things and arrange yourself on the couch like a tired house cat, pulling your legs up and rubbing your cheek against the backrest. Shoulders to the arm, you're almost lying down. He could superimpose you into his sheets, imagining how you might look in bed, not naked or waiting or anything so salacious, just how you’d look getting ready to sleep. He wonders if you wear pyjamas, figures you likely sleep dressed as you are now in your shirt and jeans. Maybe you swap denim for sweatpants, maybe you don’t. Maybe you peel your shirt off, maybe your bra. He entertains a life where he gets to see it and finds it painful as wrapping his hand around a hot poker, because that life is alarmingly close to this one, if he were to take one small leap.
“Where were you today?” he asks.
He sees a flicker of humour flit across your face. He knows it as one of your tells — you'd thought about bending the truth.
"You don’t have to worry, I’m just… rundown. Felt sicker than usual, so I stayed home." 
It's automatic for him to give you a once over as he would with anybody who feels under the weather. You haven't been unlike yourself, you aren't sweating or irritable. You're fine. You’re more than fine.
You have a strange inability to look after yourself. He believes in positive (and negative) reinforcement. 
"Good girl," he says. 
You smile at your hands, picking at nails he knows are scrubbed raw and clean as he crosses the room to sit with you on the couch. You're quick to push your legs over his lap, your jeans riding up until the rarely-seen skin of your ankles peak out. 
"I had an incredible headache," you continue. "And I felt like the blood was rushing in my ears when I stood up but I wasn’t dizzy.”
You touch him and it's like all his agitation starts to numb itself. The weight of your legs has him forgetting his aching back and his sore arms. He stares at his closed fist by your foot, willing himself to touch you; all he wants to do is grab your leg, feel the dough and softness of it under his palm. You sit up a touch to brush a longer piece of hair sticking out behind his neck. 
He pretends you aren't moving at all. 
"Do you feel better now?" he asks. 
Your knuckle brushes under his jaw. He feels the short hairs of his beard catching. 
"I feel fine," you say. "How are you feeling?" 
He turns to face you head on. He’s not going to answer your question. You already know he won’t, but you've asked anyway. He isn’t sure what to do with that.
“You really do look tired,” you say softly, concern knitting your brows together. He thinks it’s your most devastating look yet. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Joel, I’ll go home. You can get some real rest.”
He almost says Hey, I don’t want you to leave yet, and you’re already standing up. You look more sorry than you should, believing that you're a burden on him when you aren’t — you're a lightness. You drain the levy, and he can’t see himself getting any rest at all if you leave. 
You’re saving him the awkwardness, climbing off of his couch and out of his lap to track down your shoes. “And, you know, you could shower,” you say, trying to infuse some life back into the room, “I know the cold water bites but we all gotta do it.”
He stands up too fast and feels an absence of noise. No blood rushing in his ears, no beating heart. He’s too tired, in every sense of the word, to ask for what he wants. He can’t ask you to stay. 
You lean down to hook your finger into the back of your sneaker and stop at his expression. You stand a little taller. Whatever vulnerability he sees in you now, your short black socks against the floor, your sweet-eyed, tentative smile, he suspects he’d find it doubled in the mirror. 
“Joel, I…”
He can’t ask you. 
But that doesn't mean you can't ask him. 
"Do you think I could stay, after all? To sleep. Just to sleep," you say. Your voice is quiet, like you're trying to spare yourself some dignity if you need to take it back. 
He thinks about it. You, in his bed. You, sleeping as you had been in his hallway, your lashes skimming the delicate skin under your eyes, your neck craned in. You, with your hands under your cheek, your sluggish breathing, your heart capering only a handful of inches from his. 
A beat. "You kick in your sleep?" he asks, cotton-mouth returned.
"No," you say. You laugh through it, making the word so thick it's almost sticky. Honey in sound. 
It solidifies what he's said yes to. He doesn't know how to sleep next to you. He barely knows how to talk to you, and doesn't try as he leads you into his bedroom. Thankfully, you spare him. He knows you aren't the most confident person on the planet, and that each bold move you make is for his benefit. He tries to be unflinching in return, kicking out of his shoes and throwing back the blankets to lie flat on the sheets. You settle in next to him with little ceremony.
You keep your legs hiked up at first, your heels digging into the mattress near his knees. You turn your face to his, and he turns his face to yours. He can see your every wrinkle and line this close. You must be seeing his. 
"You got lucky with the neighbour lottery, huh?" you say, not quite whispering. "It's silent." 
He doesn't want you to stop talking, but he can't help himself. "Almost," he says wryly.
You know him well enough to smile. "I guess you don't need the quiet," —you turn carefully onto your side, letting the weight of your knees rest on his thigh— "'cause you work all day every day." 
The opposite. The shit he sees on shift is enough to give anybody insomnia. 
"I'm the bad neighbour." 
"Oh, right, your radio." The back of your hand touches his arm. The slightest of touches but enough to make him realise how much he wants it. He can't remember the last time somebody touched him who wasn't you, not for years now. It's an amicable casualness he can't explain away. He wants it worse than a hydro.
"I might, uh, might cling a little, in my sleep. You can push me away, swears. Even if you gotta really fight me on it." You close your eyes, burrowing your face into one of his flat pillows. Your knuckles jump up his arm as you get comfortable. "Jus' shove me." 
He closes his eyes. The dark of his eyelids is usually a torment, but with you this close it lulls him quickly and without finesse. "I'm not gonna shove you," he says while he still can. 
He's on the precipice of sleep when your hand slides up his bicep. You feel along the soft ridging of his muscles until your fingers slot between his arm and his chest, and your nose is kissing his shoulder. It's as if the moonlight has heat and it's bearing down on him through the dirty windows as every stressed ligament, every tensed tissue in his sore body finally gives in to rest.
When he wakes, he's missed his morning shift start. You're clinging to him like you said you would, harder than he'd think possible considering your unconsciousness, with your lips pressed to his shoulder. He thinks it might leave a bruise. 
He dips his face toward yours until the tip of his nose nudges your forehead and goes back to sleep.
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katszumi · 3 months
Text
"but, isn't it a blessing to have someone care about you?" your voice was soft but your words weighed heavy on bakugou's heart.
it was nearly ten o'clock. due to your rampant text messages you sent to bakugou ten minutes ago, he stayed up past his normal bedtime in order to figure out what exactly was your issue tonight.
you were rested on the bench that was outside of u.a while bakugou was reclined on the bench, his legs sprawled out in front of him. there was a mere sprinkle that surrounded the area around them, a slight breeze also forcing you two to sit closer together to bask in each other's warmth.
bakugou was unsure what to reply with. where did your random outburst even come from. what did you really want him to say?
bakugou didn't particularly understand love and he damn sure didn't know how to express it. maybe that's why he was okay with it at first— you deserved to be with someone that could make you happy. he knew that he wouldn't be able to live up to your standards. he lacked all the aspects for a healthy relationship.
but when you got together with that stupid guy you met at a coffee shop eight months ago, he felt like an idiot for not pursing you. he noticed all of your tired eyes, insecure smiles, and passive behavior. it was only then when bakugou realized he could’ve done so much better than he thought.
you took his silence as an opportunity to continue. "someone who worries about your happiness and wants to always be by your side?"
yes. bakugou wanted to scream. yes, you fucking idiot. were the words that burned his throat. why couldn't it come out when he so desperately wanted it to?
did you decide to be blind of his feelings towards you? bakugou had thought he'd shown you that he'd go to hell and back for you, but still, you couldn't discern the fact that he was so infatuated with you? he was so in love with you that he would wait for you at the bottom no matter how long it took.
he hated this feeling. why did it have to be you that caught his eye? the only girl he was drawn to, no matter how many times he tried to escape your aura, the path always lead back to you.
he doesn't know why he would sit with you while you ranted about your relationship problems. maybe it was because he didn't want it to be anyone else other than him or because he cared about your well-being most of all. maybe it was both.
either way, he fucked hated it. why couldn't it be the other way around? why couldn't he be the one on the receiving end of your love? bakugou knew for sure he wouldn't do half of the shitty things that your lover would do. he hated that you stayed with worthless dick-face of a man you call your boyfriend. did you not know that with your personality and beauty that you could find someone that was worth millions?
"you know... i like to think someone cares for me that way." bakugou didn't have to look at you to tell there were tears prickling your eyes. water threatening to spill out. it was a usual thing whenever you'd ask him to lend a ear to your venting sessions. he wanted nothing more than to grab your face and kiss your tears away.
bakugou didn't understand love. not in the slightest. but bakugou understood regret. and his biggest regret came in the form of you. if only bakugou had enough courage to tell he that he loved you years ago when you two first met, then he would be the person on the receiving end. he would be the guy who would always be by your side. to be the guy who truly cares about you.
for however long you stayed with that asshole of a boyfriend, bakugou was aware his chance with you was as close to zero.
and he was fine with that.
because even though it pained him to hear you talk about another guy, bakugou would rather have some of you than none of you. he didn’t mind having to swallow his feelings that tugged at his heart if it meant you were happy.
he dryly laughed. "there is," his eyes suddenly finding comfort in the wet cement below them. "just someone who fuckin' sucks at showing it."
bakugou didn’t just not understand love. he hated it. he despised love because it always fell into the hands of the wrong person.
-
yes the quote is from fruits basket, i couldnt help it.
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personasintro · 10 months
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monachopsis | 09
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series, brother-in-law au
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, ANGST
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 16.4k+
a/n: the long wait is over and the new chapter is here 🥹 sit back and enjoy ❤️‍🔥
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The cold and dark night perfectly portrays your inner feelings that dawn on you on the outside too, tears blurring your vision as you angrily wipe them off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn't have come here. You trusted Yoongi to help you, maybe you even looked for comfort in him but you never expected he would accuse you of something like that.
Absolutely understanding that it's not his responsibility to comfort you, he could've easily told you to fuck off if he wanted. But still, you hoped he would understand. Your reaction is mainly controlled by your emotions, not with your head that doesn't seem to be in the right place.
Life taught you not to expect things from people, but everyone's got their expectations. Especially when you feel like you know that person at least a little bit. So you expect nothing this time, making your way to the car when you hear your name being shouted on the street. 
You've barely managed to take a few, fast and angry, strolls out of the studio. Glancing back and stopping in your tracks, you notice Yoongi staring at you as he rushes to you. You can't face him now. You turn around and continue in your path with even more eager and faster steps to get to your car.
Yoongi catches up to you though, running after you as the wind gets more intense and makes your hair stick to your wet cheeks. He's not going to let you leave, especially when he stormed out of his studio past his very confused friends. He's not fully understanding what happened, he might've gotten carried away and shouldn't have accused you of such things. But from what you were saying, it was something that made sense.
You're not okay. You weren't okay the second he laid his eyes on you when you were standing at the entrance of his new studio. And you're not okay now when he catches you by your forearm, stopping you from getting away from him and he sees your crying face. 
Fuck. Is that all his doing?
“What do you want?” you snap, shrugging off his touch with an angry frown as you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve.
What does he want? He has no fucking idea. He just couldn't leave you in such a state, knowing you have nowhere else to go. For fuck sake, he doesn't get why you came to him out of all people but you did. And he knows he would feel like a fucking asshole if he let you leave in your current state. The look of you only confirms he has done the right thing. 
“I shouldn't have assumed anything,” he speaks, eyes dancing across your face as you're trying to look angry. Only he feels bad for you, knowing what happened between you and his brother is way more serious. “I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry I came here. It won't happen again.” you say emotionlessly, ending the conversation there as you turn around.
Yoongi doesn't let you. He catches you again, softly but enough to let you stay as he turns you around. “Where are you going?”
“Why do you care?” The same emotionless tone. It makes his jaw tick. 
“Where are you going?” he asks again, this time more deeper and slower.
“To my car. Now let me go.”
The truth is, you weren't only crying because of what Yoongi said. Sure, the interaction shocked you to the point where you felt disappointment, sadness and anger. You don't even know what emotion dominates. However, it's the awful feeling of loneliness and desperation. You have no idea what you're going to do now.
Yoongi watches you, a realization hitting him. “Fuck, you're shaking, Y/N.”
It hits you too. He's right. You didn't even notice it.
And then you break and a silent whimper leaves your mouth. There's no control over it, your body shaking even more as Yoongi sucks in breath harshly at the heartbreaking sight. He moves automatically, pulling your body to his with no protest from your side as you welcome his warmth. Despite the odd situation and Yoongi's arms around your fragile body, it doesn't dawn upon you he's hugging you until he tightens his grip on you.
“It's gonna be okay.” he mutters into the chilly air.
For a moment you're not able to react in any way, you direct all your focus trying to stop the tears that have welled up in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. 
“Nothing's gonna be okay.”
“Now that's very pessimistic of you.” He tries to joke lightly, letting out just a light chuckle. But once he doesn't seem you nowhere near amused and in the same state, he gently pulls you off him to get another glance at your teary face.
It's embarrassing that he sees you in such a horrific and vulnerable state. For a solid second you hate him for approaching you. Why couldn't he just let you leave? He said what he wanted to say. The hurt still resonates and even when he gently wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumb, like you would often see in romantic movies, nothing about this is romantic. You're pregnant, nowhere to go and with no one by your side. 
Yoongi might've apologized already, but his assumption and words still sting and you have a hard time believing him. Is he truly sorry? Or he just didn't expect you to storm out of there like that? And finding you crying in the middle of the street like an emotional wreck?
“Come on, let's get you to the car.” he mumbles under his breath, looking around before he gently tugs onto your wrist. He doesn't let go, almost as if he's afraid of you running. 
“My car's that way.” you point out emotionlessly, stubborn to show any more emotion that you already have.
He was right about one thing. You shouldn't drive in this state. No matter what could've happened, this is no longer only about you. You've got one more person to think about. 
“We're gonna drive in my car.” he simply says and you don't argue.
Once he unlocks his car with a key – the old system of unlocking – you get inside and does it feel odd to be back inside it again? No words are exchanged, the radio playing softly in the background as you allow yourself to lean back and stare out of the window. You're not sure where he's taking you. Oh god, is he taking you back home? You can't go there! Not with Yeonseok there. 
Just as you open your mouth, you recognize the familiar street and the direction you're heading at. 
“Where are we going?” you ask, despite knowing but you still have to ask. Yoongi's aware of that.
“To my place.”
“Yoongi–” 
Still hurt (and upset too) by your latest conversation at his new studio, you're aware of Yoongi wanting to be out of this as much as possible. While you're guessing he must feel bad for you and that's why he's doing this, you don't want him to do this out of pure pity. You would rather be alone in a hotel room until you figure out this mess. 
“You said you have nowhere to go, didn't you?” he reminds you. A little output by his bluntness, your mouth opens and closes before you find words. 
“And you said everything is way past us.” You quote him with an edge to your tone, shooting him a side glance as he keeps his eyes on the road as he lets out a sigh. “Drive me to a hotel. Any hotel is fine.”
You feel his momentarily gaze on you. Too stubborn to look, you keep staring ahead with a clenched jaw. It's not like there's no appreciation of what he's doing on your part. After everything – even if the emotions are too raw and current – you can tell that it's a positive thing that he decided to stop you from driving. As usual, you're absolutely clueless about what's going on inside his head or why he's doing this. You don't think he's got any bad intentions. Regardless of what his parents and your husband say about him, you know Yoongi does have a good heart.
But you've got your own pride as well.
“I know what I said and I'm sorry.” he simply says, continuing in his drive and not changing the direction which you decide not to comment on for numerous reasons. 
The air between you is a little stiff, undoubtedly caused by the misunderstanding (is that what it was?), and the way inside the building and his apartment is spent in utter silence. It's until Yoongi closes his front door and you're met with the familiar scent of oranges and wood, that you finally speak up. 
“Why am I here, Yoongi?” you ask, not taking off your shoes like he tells you to – muttering it almost tiredly to be exact. You ignore him, raising your brow as you demand an answer. 
He takes off his shoes and jacket silently, placing the items to their designated place. He's definitely taking his time but you don't budge, hardening your features even more as he takes a sneaky glance at you. 
“Can we not fight?”
“I'm not fighting!” you exclaim, a little bit too loud which causes him to raise his brow at you this time. “Thanks for driving me but I shouldn't be here.”
“But you came to me, haven't you?” he asks, hardening his features just as much. “You must've wanted help.”
“I needed a friend,” you correct him. “I needed someone who understands.” Your voice wavers and you mentally curse at yourself. 
He has no reaction, simply looking at you until he drops his gaze toward his feet.
“I know we're no friends. I'm aware of that. But I needed someone who's familiar with my situation. It was wrong of me to come up to you. You were right, it looked wrong and I shouldn't have–”
“I was an asshole for assuming the reason for you coming there.” he cuts you off. “It didn't even cross my mind that you needed–that you needed someone who understands.”
“You wanted as far out of this mess as possible,” you point out harshly. “And I can't blame you for it. We all got what we wanted, didn't we?”
He looks up, your eyes meeting for a moment as he understands the double meaning of your words. Poking the tongue inside of his cheek, he looks behind you.
“I don't wanna be any burden to you. I will handle this by myself, somehow. I don't know how yet, but it's not your concern. I'm sorry for coming to you.”
“Don't,” he cuts you off, staring at you sternly. “Just stay here, okay?” he asks, sighing exhaustedly like this entire situation makes him both mentally and physically exhausted. 
It definitely exhausts you.
“Why?”
The question is simple. You don't expect him to give you a proper answer or any at this point. Yoongi might be honest but most of the time, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He's not one to open his heart and if he does, he does it almost emotionlessly. You know it's all an act. The often mentioned build-up wall you named in your mind. 
“Because I wanna help.”
That alone makes your breath hitch. Dryly gulping, you try not to react too much as you stand there not moving an inch.
“Do you, now?” you ask. You're aware of your stubbornness and the fact you're not making any of this easy. You should be happy that he's trying to help. At least someone is. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of what a fucked up deal you made. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of why you left your perfect and loving husband. So yes, he's here trying to help and you should be glad for it. A part of you thinks like that. 
But there's that part of you completely clueless by his intentions or inner thoughts. He's talking but at the same time he barely reveals anything. Perhaps your questioning and attitude is caused by still lingering hurt. 
“Yes,” he answers with a frown. “So let me help you.”
Features softening, you stare into those usually sharp eyes that somehow keep their shape despite the light behind them changing. Hesitantly, you take off your shoes and ignore the fact he's watching you the entire time. Once you're done, he leads you further down his small apartment. Not that he needs you. You know this place well and again, it's not like any of you need that reminder. 
“I can lend you some of my clothes.” he says, motioning for you to sit down on his couch.
You obey, placing your hands over your knees as you look around. Why are you suddenly nervous? Or is that discomfort you're feeling? You definitely imagined all of this to go differently. Still a little shaken up by everything that has happened today, everything starts to take its toll on you. 
“I'm not a tea drinker but I should have herbal tea somewhere. I will make you one.”
He doesn't wait for your response, simply walking away to his kitchen to prepare the tea. He's gone for a few minutes, but you refuse to even look in that direction. You hate that feeling of being alone. As soon as you're surrounded by the four walls and silence, minus the occasional sounds of drawers opening and closing that come from the kitchen, everything starts to replay in your mind like a broken record.
Luckily, Yoongi comes back with a cup of tea, placing it in front of you in utter silence. 
“Thanks.”
He only nods, slowly and carefully sitting down on the separate chair. 
“You can take my bed.”
“I can sleep on the couch.” you inform him. “I'm not fragile.”
He seems like he wants to argue at that statement, he keeps his mouth shut. The couch is nothing but uncomfortable and you both know that. But you don't need him sacrificing himself any more than he already has. 
“Don't fight me on this, alright?” he asks gently. When your stern frown meets his exhausted one, you press your lips into a tight line as you mutter out another thanks. “I've got sessions throughout the entire day, but feel free to do whatever you want.”
“I'll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” you tell him, meaning every word. 
“You can stay however long you want, okay?” He leans his head, trying to catch your eyes again. And once he does and your gaze naturally finds him, he deepens his stare as if to make sure you understand. “I'm barely at home. You'll have this place all to yourself. Not that there's much to do but…”
You press your lips tightly, a little grin threatening to crack. 
“I'll try to come home quickly. We'll figure it out, okay?”
Looking at him once more, you search his face for any answers that are yet to be answered. 
What do you mean, you want to ask. Since when does he want to get involved?
“I thought you didn't want to get involved.” you say silently, staring at your fumbling hands that rest in your lap. 
“Yeah, me too.” he mutters, his eyes not leaving his form. “I got myself involved the moment I nodded to Yeonseok's idea.”
Flinching at the sound of your husband's name, you clear your throat rather awkwardly. 
“It's not your responsibility to get into this mess. I know in a way you're involved, but you're not entirely involved in my and your brother's mess.”
It definitely sounds messy. The argument started with Yoongi, the entire trail of your thoughts started with him in a way. But he doesn't need to get involved more than that. It was a mistake on your part to come to his new place and search for him, in hope for some comfort. 
“Me staying here is just going to cause a disaster.”
You both know you're talking about your husband here. The look you both share says it all. 
“Yeonseok?” he still asks, chuckling a little.
You nod. 
“I'm not afraid of him.”
“I know you're not but he's… you know how he is. If he finds out I'm here–he probably already suspects I went to you. I'm not sure but I think he does.”
“I'll handle him if he comes here.”
You nervously nibble on your bottom lip. Your stupid decision to seek comfort and support from Yoongi might cause even a bigger mess. 
“Don't worry, okay? I'll handle it. Let me help you.”
After staring at him hesitantly, aware of vulnerability written all over your face, you give him a nod. Something that allows him to relax as he leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 
“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I'll prepare the bed for you.”
You open your mouth to argue but before you can do that, he's already on his feet walking away. Sighing in disappointment, you reach for the plain black cup nevertheless.
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Yoongi doesn't leave for work too early, but early enough for you two not seeing each other. You wake up later than usual, very well aware your late night staring at the dark ceiling and not blinking an eye has a lot to do with it. No matter how tired you truly felt as soon as you laid into the fresh sheets, your mind just couldn't seem to stop working. 
Yoongi stayed true to his words. He stayed on his uncomfortable couch. Proposing sharing a bed is not something appropriate, despite you've shared a bed before. Things are different now. 
The first thing you did this morning, after blinking off any traces of sleep and staring around Yoongi's bedroom, was turning on your phone. No missed calls. You're not sure whether you're relieved or surprised. Yeonseok is usually very caring and tends to get worried. Deep down you know you expected to see at least a message.
It's better this way. Having him trying to reach you would just make you more uncomfortable. You know he's equally upset and even though you've never been through something like this, you made yourself clear.
Getting out of the bed, wearing Yoongi's clothes which you're trying not to think of much, you find a sticky note on a counter. A messily written note. You imagine him writing it at the last minute, hurrying to leave for work. 
There's some food in the fridge, feel free to make whatever you'd like. It's not much but it should do.
Simple, but effective. 
Turning on the kettle, you prepare a cup and tea. Wow, he really isn't a tea drinker. Choosing the only box he has there, you open the fridge to find good ingredients to make a proper breakfast from. You've never been much of a breakfast eater, but after you got pregnant that has changed. You've been craving more food now, even though you sometimes get sensitive about smells and taste.
You settle on a toast. It takes you around fifteen minutes to prepare everything. You purposely take your time, knowing there's nothing much for you to do for the rest of your day. Maybe you should change back into your clothes and leave Yoongi's apartment while he's at work. As much as he assured you he wants to help, you know that's not what he wanted at the beginning. Not that it matters, but something tells you the inconvenience your stay is going to bring. 
You're not a pity case. You hate the thought of him pitying you.
Regardless of your thoughts, your feet don't cross his doorstep. You're in the middle of watching a movie on his Netflix account (hoping he won't mind you using it) when your phone rings. Brows lift up to your hairline, seeing Yoongi is the one calling you. Pausing the movie, you clear your throat before answering. 
“Yes?”
“Um, hey.” Yoongi starts, clearing his tone from the sudden but apparent awkwardness. “Have you eaten?”
Something about that question makes you snort. 
He groans on the other line. Little do you know he's awkwardly scratching the top of his head. 
“I have.” you say with a smile grazing your lips. 
“I'm gonna buy some groceries after work,” he continues. “There are some flyers on the fridge. Feel free to order dinner, there are uh,” he stops for a second. “A few bucks in my nightstand.”
“Yoongi, I should–”
“Just stay there, okay?” 
He's met with silence. 
“Y/N.” 
Stopping yourself from biting your nails, you lick your dry lips. “Okay.”
Once Yoongi ends the phone call without saying anything else, you stay seated in utter silence – staring at the paused movie. It sounded like he needed assurement you wouldn't leave. You're not sure why he's so determined about you waiting up for him. You wouldn't do anything stupid, it's not like you've got many options to begin with. But you promised him you would stay. 
After all, he's the only person who's helping you at the moment. 
Back in Yoongi's studio, he places the phone back onto a counter with a thoughtful look. Too immersed in his thoughts, wondering what he's going to do once he comes back home, he doesn't notice Jimin coming from the back and joining him in the front. 
“Your next appointment is in five. You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his friend with a suspicious look. 
“Yeah.”
“Who was that on the phone? Your girlfriend?” he teases the older, laughing at Yoongi's unimpressed glare that tells him enough that he's not in the mood for a dumb teasing. 
Actually, he's not been in the mood since he arrived at the studio and opened it with Jimin's help. While Yoongi's tattooing, Jimin takes care of the phone calls and incoming customers. After he ran after you, his friends were kind enough that they took care of the studio. Without their help, he wouldn't be able to start working and would be forced to cancel his long-waiting appointments. He's not in a position to cancel them. Even after paying his debts, he still needs the money.
His aching back is also a good reason for his sour mood. 
“Don't hate me for asking. You've been quite secretive lately, no wonder we're all a little curious.” Even with Jimin's light grin, there's some truth to his words. 
However, Yoongi doesn't agree. 
He's not been secretive. He's always been the same. And he's sure what Jimin hints at is–
“Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law?” He's met with a tougher glare this time, causing Jimin's hands to lift up in surrender, showing him he means no harm.
“Is she okay though? She stormed out of here looking like a mess and then–”
“She's fine,” Yoongi cuts him off, tone harsher than he intended to which causes the younger's shoulders to drop. “Just some trouble back at home. Come on, the client is coming.” he mutters, walking to the back feeling Jimin's eyes on his back the entire time until he hears his cheerful greeting to one of Yoongi's new clients. 
Despite the lack of Yoongi's will to share any information about what happened in the span of twenty-four hours, Jimin and none of his friends have a clue in what a fucked up situation he found himself in.
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He never said at what time he would be back. 
You've waited long enough for him to come, too embarrassed to admit your ears have been perked up at the littlest sounds, expecting the keys rustling in the lock. But when it was around eight and your stomach started to churn loud enough to no longer be ignored, you listened to Yoongi's words and ordered a delivery. 
At least something seems to go right when you're in the middle of opening one of the containers when you hear the door being pushed open. It shuts in the distance and with soon approaching footsteps, you come into an eye-contact with him. Two bags full of groceries are in his both hands as the delicious smell of fresh food invades his small apartment. He glances at the amount of containers before he looks at you. 
An almost inaudible Hi comes out of your mouth and instead of a vocal greeting, he nods in acknowledgement as he greets you back by it. 
“I ordered some for you.” you tell him, slowly – almost cautiously – sitting behind the table. 
“Thanks.” he says, eyes still lingering on the full table as your eyes widen in realization.
“Oh, I paid for it. I got a little carried away and got us a pizza and chicken wings. There's rice and a few side dishes as well.” 
Yoongi listens for a second, walking to the kitchen counter where he sets the grocery bags before he turns around. He stays rooted in his spot, eyes falling down on you as you give him a sheepish look. 
“I told you there's money in my nightstand. You didn't have to buy all of this.” 
Even with his little pointed look and tone, you know he means well. And perhaps he's too prideful to suck up the fact you paid for it. Yoongi did say there's a few bucks in his bedroom but the order you placed cost more than just a few bucks. Although, you never checked how much money he has there – it didn't even cross your mind – none of it matters. 
“I wanted to buy us dinner. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me stay here. It's the least I could do.”
Holding back any sort of reaction like you're used to when it comes to him, Yoongi sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Then he looks at you and cracks – what seems like an attempt to – smile.
He knows there's no way in arguing with you on this. 
“Thanks. You didn't have to though.”
“I know I didn't. I wanted to,” you assure him right away, smiling in his direction as if to silently say that you're done with this conversation. “Now eat up. I hope you haven't eaten dinner already.”
“I haven't,” he hums, joining you at the table as he looks at the containers opening them. “Just how much did you order?” he asks, lips twitching.
“A lot.” you laugh. 
Yoongi goes to grab utensils, washes his hands before joining you again at the table. The moment of you two sitting behind one table – just the two of you – having dinner feels odd. It feels oddly domestic. Just as the both of you are ready to dig in, Yoongi mutters a soft; 
“Thanks for the food.”
All you can muster is a soft smile without even looking at him, stuffing your mouth with the delicious pizza as you continue to eat in silence. 
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After yesterday's late dinner and during the time he cleaned the kitchen, he asked you for your car keys and documents, so he could bring the car today. Not wanting to argue about that, you agreed to Yoongi's plan – making sure it's no bother which earned a certain type of look from him. Or was it a glare? 
You've had the whole morning to think of your next step. Yoongi had left earlier than yesterday, the only difference is that he informed you about him having to leave very early. Something about his day being fully packed, so the only time he can bring your car is in the evening.
Your entire life is currently a big mess. What was supposed to be the happiest stage in your life, you're spending it at your brother-in-law's place with nothing. All your stuff is back at home. Home. Can you call it that? 
Yeonseok has not contacted you yet. He's probably still upset over the argument and you've no idea what is going on inside his head. Not that you assume he has to contact you in the first place. Actually, you would be glad if he didn't contact you. 
Eventually, the two of you will have to talk. You're not ready. Not after everything that has been replaying in your mind nonstop. Sleep is the only time when you have enough time to rest, and even that is never guaranteed. 
One thing you know for sure, you can't stay here for too long. You don't want to overstay your welcome and despite what Yoongi told you on the phone yesterday, you just know he is going to want this place to himself eventually. Which means, you have to solve this with Yeonseok.
You do have money to stay at a hotel for the time being, but that's not a solution. Just a temporary one. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You're supposed to buy baby clothes and essentials, look around for a good crib and a stroller. Not being in someone else's home, invading their space and privacy and stressing yourself. On another note, it's safe to say that it is completely reasonable for you to stress. Who wouldn't?
The stress has completely invaded your life and while you're trying to keep your cool for the baby, it's bound for it to affect a thing or two. Like forgetting your appointment. 
Good thing is that when you go to check your phone (while trying to give yourself a break from your never-ending stressful thoughts), a reminder pops up on the screen. You've never been one to set reminders on your phone. Just a quick note if there was too much for you. But you've started doing that since going on these appointments that included the baby.
Looking at time, you still have two hours to get there.
But that's where the problem comes. You're without your car, so you're forced to list through your contacts before you dial the only person you've been seeing for the past two days. 
It rings too long to the point you get anxious. You could reschedule the appointment, but with how things have been going so far, you need the assurance that everything is fine with the baby. You haven't experienced anything alarming and concerning that could alarm you, but still. You don't want to neglect anything. If something happened, you would never forgive yourself. 
Whilst in the middle of nibbling on your nails, a gruff voice you've grown to use to reach your ears.
“Um, hi. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're extremely busy today but–”
“What happened?”
“I'm such an idiot. I just checked my phone and my appointment is today. And you know, my car's not here and I could probably get there by a bus, but I don't know this neighborhood and I'm not sure if I could get there on time.” you quickly explain, not wanting to take much of his time.
You don't know everything about him, but he seems to be the type of person that gets annoyed when someone interrupts him while working.
If he is annoyed, he doesn't show it too much. 
Or it's hard to tell because his usual stoic demeanor can be recognized even through the phone. “What appointment?” he sighs.
“With–with the baby.” 
He stays silent for a moment, “What time is it?”
“It's half past ten.”
“I meant the appointment.”
“Oh,” you let out, chuckling at your mistake as you mentally facepalm yourself. But it's worth it, there's something like a huff of chuckle on the other line which breaks his usual demeanor you mentioned earlier. “In two hours.”
“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs a little, “Okay. I will drive you there.”
“You sure?”
“How else you wanna get there?” he asks, which shuts you up for a moment.
“I mean, that's true but you said you're busy. Maybe I could quickly check the buses and get to your address. My car's there. Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?”
“Stop,” You pucker your lips as you freeze, almost as if Yoongi is right there. “Don't stress yourself. Just get ready, I'll pick you up in like an hour and half.”
“Thank you.” you say, sighing in relief. 
You imagine him nodding as he lets out a humming sound. He excuses himself before he ends the call. Your call falls down on your lap as you stare at the blank screen of his television. Ignoring the thumping of your heart from the entire call, you go get yourself ready.
Yoongi picks you up right on time, his car already parked in front of the building while you walk out of the entrance. When you get inside, you get a greeting in the form of a short nod before he puts the car into drive. Giving him location details, you nibble on your lip for a moment. His car smells like his cologne, mixed with cigarettes and mint. It's an odd scent. Despite you hating the smell of cigarettes, you don't seem to mind this mixture. Besides, the cigarettes' smell isn't that strong. 
“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
Filling up the silence, you feel like it's the right thing to do because you're not going to spend the rest of the ride in an awkward silence. Glancing at Yoongi, he looks anything but awkward. It's like he's in his own space, distancing from everything and everyone, closing himself off as he focuses on driving.
“Is this the moment where you apologize for bothering me?” he questions, a tilt of teasing in his voice as he says it with the most neutral face. 
You stare at him, mouth agape before he briefly glances at you as he can't hold himself. His lips twitch slightly but you notice it right away. Breathing out a chuckle, you shake your head at him. Min Yoongi is freaking teasing you.
“I mean—you had to get here when you were working.” you point out. 
Though, you weren't planning on apologizing, he's right in a way. 
“But I insisted on leaving your car there. I insisted you drive with me.”
For obvious reasons, you think. Not that you want to admit it, but you're glad he didn't let you drive in the state you were in back then. 
“You don't have your car thanks to me, let's end it with that, okay?”
“Okay.” you agree, turning your head to the window as you stare at the streets and people passing.
Once the road and surroundings become more familiar, the oddness of this all comes to sit in the pit of your stomach. Meanwhile you stare at the tall building you've grown used to, Yoongi finds a good parking spot. Once the engine's off and business of the surroundings can be barely heard through the windows, you reach for the doorknob slowly. 
“You're gonna be fine from here?” he asks, not looking at you when you do glance at him. 
When you don't answer right away, he glances at you before you can find the proper words to tell him that you will be fine.
“You don't need me to go there with you?”
Even if his tone is nonchalant as if he's asking the most basic stuff, he takes you by surprise and makes your brows shoot up. “You would go there with me?” you ask, sounding not totally sold on that idea. 
Looking at him now, he already seems to be wanting to be in a different place. Not in front of a building full of doctors and inside with a bunch of pregnant females. Suddenly, the thought of seeing him there is a little laughable. 
So because of that, you haven't even thought about him being there. Until he said it. 
You do need to admit that you haven't been here alone ever since you got pregnant. Your OB/GYN is here, so you used to go here for check-ups way before that. Yeonseok was the one who joined you right after you got pregnant. Thinking of it now, you're reminded of how excited you were to go for these check-ups, not only to calm down your nerves if everything's right, but to see your baby. Even if you could hardly tell their body parts.
It became the thing between you and him. It's what most expecting parents do, but it became your special thing in a way. Something that you always looked for. Something you've always done together.
But now – it's the first time you're here alone. Yeonseok is not by your side and probably the most distant he's ever been in your life. That's on you though. It would be weird to ask him to come here, after everything that has been said between you and him. 
“I would, if you want me to.” Yoongi replies, catching your attention and as you slowly shake yourself out of your thoughts, you remember what the conversation is about.
“Wouldn't that be weird for you though?” you ask, noticing you still have ten minutes before your scheduled check-up.
He doesn't respond at first, deciding to ignore that question as he sinks deeper into his seat. Elbow coming up to rest against the door, he uses his fingers to rub his chin softly.
“Nothing I couldn't handle,” he decides to say, “You're acting a little weird, that's why I'm asking.”
Clueless to what Yoongi's thinking, he thinks of one of the reasons that could potentially get you acting weird, at least one that's generalized and comes to his mind first. He doesn't even have to think about it too much. You're worried that something's wrong, right? Aren't most pregnant women like that?
Maybe it's better you can't read his thoughts, or else he would get a nasty look in return. You are a little bit more sensitive. 
Should you just tell him? Again, you do not want to burden him in your shit any more than you already do. Telling him about Yeonseok would probably not only put him into a sour mood, but it would mean he would most likely try to understand you. You've figured out a long time ago that he's not bad at all. 
Yoongi is actually a sweet person. Still in his way, but without a doubt, he is one.
Making a decision of just telling him instead, be honest and in a hope he won't think you want to be pitied, you lick your lips as you shrug. “It's because it is weird. Yeonseok used to come with me every time.”
He's silent for a moment, “And now he's not here.” he adds without you having to finish as you nod, confirming his thoughts. 
“Which of course, doesn't mean you have to go with me.” you quickly correct whatever suspicion he might have. 
But looking at him, he looks anything but suspicious. He nods, more to himself than to you or your words, shrugging. “I understand shit about pregnancy, but it probably feels lonely to go there alone, right?”
Well, damn. The look you give him makes him shrug. 
“You don't need to pity me, Yoongi. It's not that big of a deal.”
“I still have to wait for you, right? Need to drive you back.”
“Well, it's up to you.” you mumble, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“Around pregnant females?” he chuckles, “How bad can it be?”
“You can come with me, I think…” you nibble on your bottom lip, “I think I would like that.”
He nods.
“But only if you want to!”
By the time you're done talking, Yoongi's already unfastening his seatbelt, motioning for you to do the same. You can't believe you're doing this.
As you approach the building and navigate Yoongi where to go, you're not sure what's weird to begin with. The thought of going here all alone or the thought of Min Yoongi beside you.
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What the fuck.
Pictures of vaginas, uterus and what it looks inside of women's uterus during pregnancy are everywhere. Don't get him wrong, he has seen a fair amount of vaginas and he's quite familiar with it, but not like this. It feels very… odd to be surrounded by a sketched version of it all. Obviously, he's never been in a waiting room like this one.
Sitting next to you soundlessly, he shifts on his spot as you seem to be immersed in your own thoughts. He has no idea why he agreed to this. While he knows you in no way forced him and perhaps you find a weirdness of his presence here as well, he just tried to do the right thing. 
You've been through a lot and as much as he tried to distance from it all, he's got you in his home. Maybe he's not very upfront about it or too enthusiastic, but he does help people that seem in a need of it. Even though he doesn't look like he loves doing it, he just does. Is it important if someone loves or hates helping others as long as they do it? 
Right next to him, legs crossed and fingers playing with your rings, you were right. There are couples, chatting silently with wide smiles as they can't see their little ones forming into a proper life. You were one of those people not long ago. 
You don't allow yourself to feel guilty about it. You did what you had to do to make sure not to hurt yourself or others even more. Only time will show if it was the right decision, but for now, it feels like the best one you could've made. 
On the other hand, you can't believe Yoongi is in a waiting room with you, staring obnoxiously at the image of a uterus. It's pretty laughable though.
Suppressing your laugh, you watch him stretch his legs as his arm rests in his lap. Ignoring the veins that mostly pop up because of the pressure of his posture, he makes himself comfortable. Does he find this weird too?
There is no way he has done this before in his life. Of course, he hasn't. 
“You know,” you murmur silently, just for you and him to hear. He glances at you, giving you his attention but then again, maybe he's glad he doesn't have to stare at the picture any longer. “You don't have to go inside with me.”
As usual, he has no shocked reaction to it. “I didn't even think about it.”
You open your mouth, a little offended look that gives it away as he cuts you off before you can say anything.
“I meant as I'll go and wait with you here.”
He tries to explain in his own nonchalant and informative way. Well, you can't get mad at that. Weirdly, you understand what he means. 
Leaning back and trying to make yourself more comfortable, you hope they'll take you soon so he doesn't have to wait too long. Despite his usually calm demeanor, Yoongi does not look like the type to like waiting. Well, who does? But he surely has no patience for this. Even more so that he has a job that he needs to go back to. 
Luckily, the door opens soon and the nurse you're familiar with calls you in. Some couples like to come early, probably too excited to not mind waiting it out here. Some of them are called as well, since there are more ambulances on this floor.
You grab your things before standing up, making your way inside as the nurse stops you. “Is the young man not going with you?”
Since Yoongi and you were sitting close together, there's a low chance he would be a stranger considering there are free seats on both sides of you. She asks long enough, looking at Yoongi with a welcoming and friendly smile. 
“Ah, that's my friend.”
“We're only screening today. It's up to you though.” she reminds you, smiling widely. You would too if you had her paycheck. It's a private hospital after all.
Not trying to catch too much attention about something so… normal, Yoongi directs his eyes from the nurse to look at you. “It's up to you.”
“As long as you're comfortable with it, Mrs. Min. It was just a suggestion. I know some women bring their friends with them, no matter the gender.” she tries to joke, your smile tight and awkward.
“I'm a family friend.” Yoongi justifies, as if that makes it any better.
It's a look of realization that hits you and you watch it in horrification as her smile grows even wider. “Oh, yes! You do look very familiar. You must be Mr. Min's family, right? It's so lovely of you to come here!”
She's kind and clearly enthusiastic, you can't share it with her though. Staring at Yoongi in pure panic, he gives the nurse an unsure smile as he tries to make things clear – which is not like him at all. 
“I'm his brother.”
You would've guessed he would just keep his mouth shut at Yeonseok's mention, not confessing his relation to him at that. 
“Oh, come on then. Let's look at your niece or nephew.”
You close your eyes, ready to facepalm yourself in front of the entire waiting room as you embrace yourself. You're not sure whether you should laugh at the irony or cry in horrification. 
Yoongi presses his lips tight, nodding awkwardly as he glances back at you, giving you the final decision. 
“I'm okay with that.”
Despite the irony and awkwardness of this all, it would feel less lonely to be inside and look at the baby. Not thinking about the entire biology and blood related thing, Yoongi is a family. Whether we are speaking only metaphorically or taking biology into consideration. If he wasn't fine about it, he would say so, right?
You see he's a little unsure as he stands up, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as the nurse ushers you both come in. It's hard to decipher what's going on inside Yoongi's head. One thing's sure and that is he's nowhere in his field. He still walks in the room, trailing slowly behind you as another familiar room welcomes you.
Just as your doctor undoubtedly notices Yoongi's presence as soon as she looks up from the computer's screen. 
“It's Mrs. Min's brother-in-law.” The nurse cheerfully informs your doctor, clearly unaware of how much more awkward she is making it for you two. 
You can't be mad at her though. She doesn't know. Yoongi does send her a glare which causes you to inconspicuously elbow him when none of them are looking. He shrugs. After all, it is his fault he admitted his entire relation to you. If he kept his mouth shut and just went with being just a friend, it would be less awkward than this. 
“It's nice to meet you! Let's look at the baby!” Mrs. Kim, the doctor, says as she stands up and motions for you to lay down. 
Trying to shake off any discomfort, you lay down and look at Yoongi for a split second. He stays at the end of the bed, trying to look around as if watching the scene in front of him would make you entirely uncomfortable. It's not like he hasn't seen every inch of you. 
Rolling up your shirt just as Mrs. Kim sits down on her stool and prepares the lubricant gel, you spot Yoongi giving you a side glance. His eyes suddenly turn into a big size, naturally finding the small but evident bump you just revealed. 
You intertwine your fingers together and put them above your stomach, you try to stay calm. 
“This will get slightly cold, you know the drill, Mrs. Min.” The doctor chuckles, squirting a proper amount of the gel onto your lower stomach.
Your attention is turned elsewhere, away from the man who seems so out of place at the moment. You focus it on the screen next to your head, recognizing the familiar sight and colors. However, this time everything's bigger and more visible which makes your chest tight and eyes tear up. 
Whether it's your hormones or current situation that makes you so emotional, all the pressure suddenly leaves for a moment at the sight of your baby.
“Everything seems to be looking just alright, Mrs. Min,” she informs you with a smile, giving you a quick glance as she moves the scanner around your lower stomach. “Come closer, Mr. Min. Have a look.” she urges him, just like the nurse, completely oblivious to everything. 
Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, almost ready to shake his head but when she turns to him with an encouraging smile, he sighs and comes closer. He leans forward.
“There is the head,” she explains to him just like she did to you and Yeonseok before. “And arms and legs.”
He stares, mouth agape. Straightening himself, he clears his throat and gives her a nervous smile. But it comes out crooked. You almost snort at that.
“The baby is on the smaller side.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you question immediately.
“Not at all, it's not anything abnormal or to be concerned about. It mainly depends on the parents.” she explains, calming you down which makes you sigh in relief. “Would you like to know the gender?”
“You can see that?” you almost jump, seeing her smile curve into a wider one.
“Mhm,” she nods, “It might not be a hundred percent accurate, you're still at fifteen weeks.”
“Wow, well–”
“We can wait for your husband if that's what you prefer.” she assures you, a sour taste coming into your mouth as you look at Yoongi. 
“It's whatever you want.” he reminds you silently, the corner of his lips lifting.
By how things look with Yeonseok, you're not sure if waiting for him has any meaning. Fuck. You don't even know if he wants to be the father. How can you possibly just wait it out?
“We could do it on your next scan, it will be more accurate. But I can see it now and I'm eighty percent sure.”
Nibbling on your lip, you literally say fuck it in your head. “Tell me please.”
She chuckles, “From the looks of it, you're expecting a baby girl, Mrs. Min.”
A chuckle of disbelief and joy escapes your mouth, knowing whatever the answer would be, you would be just as ecstatic. It's just knowing the truth and more information about your baby is enough to make you a crying mess. 
“I'm sorry,” you giggle, putting a palm over your mouth as you smile widely. 
“Congratulations, Mrs. Min.” The doctor and nurse speak at the same time.
“Congrats.” Yoongi says, squeezing your ankle. You bite your lip, giving him a slight nod.
The doctor hands you the wipes and lets you wipe the lubricant off your skin. You're taken back when Yoongi offers you his hand when you sit up.
“We'll just draw your blood to run some tests and you're free to go.”
“Are you happy?” Yoongi asks silently once the doctor and nurse are nearby, but not enough to hear you two. The nurse is preparing the needle while the doctor writes the report to your patient card. 
“I am,” you answer with a smile, “I still would be regardless of the gender.”
“A little girl.” he mutters, zoning out for a second.
“A little girl.” you confirm.
You both stare at each other until the nurse comes back and interrupts you, preparing you to draw your blood. “Are you good with needles and blood, Mr. Min?”
He cocks his brow at her, showing her his tattooed sleeve, popped out veins along with it. She blushes in return. She freaking blushes as she laughs a little. You watch the exchange with a deadpan look. He smirks, cockily shrugging when he notices your stare.
She draws your blood, handing you water after she's done just in case. After everything's done, you schedule another appointment before you're free to go. Happily clutching the printed ultrasound, you put it into your purse to keep it safe once you get inside Yoongi's car. 
You're both silent, again, deep in your thoughts until the replay of what happened just a few minutes ago makes you ask. “Why did you tell her about being Yeonseok's brother?”
“Why? Should I have not?” he questions right back.
“I just didn't expect that. You're not exactly too keen on informing others about your relation to him. It just seemed odd,” you shrug, voicing out your thoughts. “It felt… awkward. Y'know, considering everything.”
Yoongi stays silent, lips in a thin line before he sighs. “I panicked.”
“You panicked?” you ask, laughing a little at that. “Because of what?”
“I don't know!” he exclaims, almost whining which makes you giggle. “She kept asking and I just didn't know what to say. Wouldn't it be weird for me to be there as your friend?”
“Hm, I don't think so,” you answer, “You heard her. Many friends come there. She doesn't have to know we're not friends.”
“Ouch,” he tries to play it off, clutching his chest as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are we not friends?”
“I don't know, you tell me. Bro in law.”
“You did not just call me that.” he cringes, causing you to laugh. 
“You were the one who was adamant of being my brother-in-law instead of a friend.” you remind him cheekily, watching the way he looks away in embarrassment. 
“I panicked.” he mutters rather grumpily causing you to hold your laughter.
After a moment of silence, you look at him again. “Thanks for going there with me. Inside too. It felt nice not having to do that alone.”
“I thought so.” He confesses.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you might feel lonely,”
You're not sure how to feel about that statement.
“And you're welcome.” he says, though his eyes stay on the road, distant and out of reach.
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Delicious smell flows through Yoongi's home as soon as he opens the front door. After he drove you back to his place, he went to work and listened to Jimin's nagging of being a few minutes late. After today, he felt like he could handle anything so Jimin's scolding did nothing to him. Not that it did before but this time, he decided to ignore him instead saying; Well I'm here now.
Jimin, speechless and annoyed, stayed quiet and only shook his head at his boss and friend. What else for him was to do when Yoongi greeted the client and shut the door behind them, hiding from the entire world.
He loves his work. Partly because he's distracted and has no time to think about unnecessary things. Which came handy especially today.
While he was busy working, you don't have much to do. After staring at the scan for a few minutes and dodging your family's calls, you decided to hop into the nearest grocery store. It's been a while since you baked, you prefer cooking but you've been craving something sweet. At least that's what you told yourself, that's the reason why you decided to abuse Yoongi's kitchen. Not because you wanted to do something nice for him, as another thank you for being there for you.
You've no idea if Yoongi even likes cakes.
So when he suddenly appears between his living room and kitchen, at first you have no idea how to explain the slowly disappearing mess that you've tried to clean off before he arrives. 
“I baked bundt cake,” you inform him, palm spreading and pointing straight at the fresh cake where steam still flows into the air. “I hope you like cakes.”
“Cakes are fine,” Yoongi mutters, watching you wipe off his counter right away.
“I'm sorry about the mess, I tried to clean it before you come.”
“'S fine.” he says, still standing in the same spot. He is not sure what to think of this. 
You finish the last traces of any mess, the good smell, you hope, the only sign of baking remaining. 
“Listen,”
You put the kitchen towel back to place, watching him with doe and curious eyes. 
“I was thinking. Maybe you should get your clothes and stuff.”
You stare, Yoongi clearing his throat as he shakes his head.
“I meant from your home. You don't have much clothes here and it must be uncomfortable not having your things with you.”
“Are you asking me to move in, Min Yoongi?” you tease, trying to hide your natural reaction which you're not sure what exactly is. 
He cringes but chuckles, “You're welcome to stay here.” 
You smirk at his diplomatic response before any traces of amusement are gone, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “You're right. I probably should do that. The thing is–”
A sound of a doorbell rings through the apartment, your eyes meeting as soon as the sound reaches your ears. “Are you expecting someone?”
He shakes his head. His friends know better than to come unexpected, even though he wouldn't put it past them. Without saying anything, he leaves with a thoughtful look to get the door. Something sits in your stomach, perhaps feeling like something's bad coming.
You barely finish the thought when you recognize the voice of your husband, rushed and angry footsteps. It happens in a millisecond and he's revealed in the flesh, shoving Yoongi in the chest. 
“Where is she?!” he asks, too upset to notice you first but the shock causes you to yelp in surprise, clutching your chest as you watch Yoongi shoving him back. 
However, Yeonseok doesn't reciprocate as the sound coming from you makes his head snap in your direction. He straightens, shocked to see you here but then it turns into a knowing and pained look.
“Of course you're here,” he exclaims.
“Calm the fuck down.” Yoongi warns him. Yeonseok knows better than to react to that, too immersed in you, seeing you in his brother's kitchen. Eyes moving to the freshly baked bundt cake, the one you baked for him multiple times and that's when you see rage coming back. 
“So you live here now?!” he yells, causing you to flinch as you can't move for some reason. You're frozen, unable to move an inch as you helplessly watch the scene in front of you. “Playing a happy family with the man that knocked you up?”
“Someone had to when you couldn't.” Yoongi snaps, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your palm slap against it, eyes fully wide.
Yeonseok lashes at his brother while you watch in horror as Yoongi is being pushed roughly into the wall.
“Stop!” you yell at your husband, already knowing where this is going. “I came to him! It's not his fault!”
“No, but he welcomed you with open arms, didn't he?” he seethes, clutching Yoongi's shirt in his fists as he throws you a nasty glare. “Waiting for this moment to piss me off and get back at me.”
You don't bother explaining to him that no, it didn't happen like that and from what you can clearly remember, he wasn't too keen on getting himself involved. Whatever it is, he still helped you in the end and that's what upsets Yeonseok. 
“Yeonseok, listen to him,” you grit through your teeth, stepping closer as he refuses to look at you now that you're closer. “I had nowhere to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells, Yoongi growling at him for raising his voice as Yeonseok only tightens his hold. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn't knock your teeth out right now.”
He is a maniac. Yoongi is a fucking maniac because he laughs in Yeonseok's face, not exactly fighting his hold as if the thought of Yeonseok coming even close to getting violent is a joke itself. Perhaps it is. You've never seen Yeonseok fighting or getting violent. You don't like it. 
“Do it, if it makes you feel better.” Yoongi prompts him with a grin, another gasp yet leaving your mouth.
“Yoongi!”
Yeonseok growls at his brother, throwing Yoongi more into the wall as you cringe at the impact. However, the said man looks unbothered and completely loosen up, showing no resistance. This whole I don't care attitude just pisses Yeonseok even more, prompts him to act violent and upon his anger.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you, huh?!” he yells in his face. Yoongi only scoffs, looking sideways to shield himself from Yeonseok's loud voice hitting him right in the face. “Having my wife in this scrappy place of yours–you've waited for this opportunity.”
Yoongi scoffs, finding Yeonseok's accusation nothing but funny. “The wife you couldn't respect the moment she wanted to break-up.”
Yeonseok's mouth opens in a mild shock, his gaze momentarily falling on you as he stares in utter disbelief. You know how it seems. It's not hard to think what Yeonseok's thinking right now. His assumptions are proved right in his slightly hazy mind. It's not helping with his anger and pain at all. He thinks you really spilled everything to Yoongi. And while you were honest with his brother, it wasn't for some vile reason to hurt Yeonseok. You had to talk to someone and Yoongi would get it. He knows your situation. 
“Aren't you two just lovebirds?”
“Yeonseok–” You sigh, exhaustion prominent on your face and voice. 
“S–” He lifts his hand up to stop you. “Shut up.”
His audacity and the fact he has never spoken to you that way leaves you speechless. You're not able to react but there's barely any time to as Yeonseok seems unhinged, seeing red. 
“Have you fucked her again? Huh? Have you enjoyed fucking her when she's still my wife? We were supposed to be a family. You ruined it.”
“You're delusional if you think I ruined your family.” Yoongi argues, scoffing once again as Yeonseok grunts and pushes him into the wall. 
“Yeonseok, that's a serious accusation. I told you, I came here because I had nowhere else to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells at you, spits of anger landing in front you as you frown. 
“If you just let me explain–we need to talk. We could still be a family, it's you who said–”
“I know what I said Y/N,” Yeonseok cuts you off, voice angered and powerful. “But I knew you would come running to this–” He looks in pure disgust at Yoongi who only lifts his brow at him. 
“You would what?” Yoongi pushes, “You would want a single mother?”
Yeonseok's face twists in another sign of betrayal and turns into anger. “And you would want her? Is that what you're saying? Take her then. Not so cocky right now, huh?”
Yoongi pushes into him, silently warning Yeonseok to keep his mouth shut. There's nothing you can physically do. You can barely move, watching and listening to the words closely as your heart cracks with each spiteful word your husband says. It's the shock of hearing him talking about and with you like that.
You're not innocent in this at all, but this could've been talked about when everyone's calmed down. Actually, Yoongi shouldn't even be a part of it. Whatever is talked about should be kept between you and Yeonseok. Yet again, you're reminded that Yoongi is currently in this position because of you and your mistake of coming to him. 
“You can't be a father, Yoongi,” Yeonseok mocks him, “You just wanted her for a good fuck, is that it? You wanted to get back to me because you're a pathetic brother just as much as you're a pathetic son.”
“Yeonsoek, that's enough!” you yell, no longer keeping quiet but he ignores you, continuing to spit venom in Yoongi's neutral face.
“Try raising my kid–since you so much helped making it.”
You gasp, face twisting into a glare that's shooting at Yeonseok's back.
“Your kid?” Yoongi laughs.
“Yes, my kid.” Is the one argument Yeonseok doesn't let off. 
“Let's see who the kid resembles when they're born.”
And that's the final line Yoongi gets to say with a smirk on his face, completely provoking Yeonseok to the core as he can no longer stand it. He growls before a punch is thrown at Yoongi's face, causing him to almost slide off the way. He catches himself and while you yelp, hands covering your mouth in a pure shock even though you should see it coming. You've never thought you would witness such a violence, let alone a fight shared between two brothers. 
They've never had a good relationship. Though, you never expected them to come to the point where they actually fight. 
Yoongi straightens himself, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth to wipe off a droplet of blood that is a result of Yeonseok's fists. Everything is silent for a second, besides the harsh breaths coming from Yeonseok's angered state and Yoongi's calm breathing. For a split second, you think everything ended. Literally.
But you would be delusional to think otherwise, to think they're done. Because one second you see Yoongi staring deadly at Yeonseok and before the older brother can react, Yoongi's fist meets Yeonseok's jaw in a loud crack, causing him to stumble into the kitchen counter. You gasp, yelling Yoongi's name as you try to catch Yeonseok, so he doesn't hit the edge of the counter. He shakes you off the moment you get to barely touch him, almost as if you burned him.
Frowning, you step aside. 
“That's for every second you've disrespected her since you came here,” Yoongi spits at his brother, shaking his fist and bloody knuckles.
Yeonseok's too busy holding up his bloody nose. The sight makes your stomach churn, both in disgust and worry.
“And you fucking know you deserve much more.”
Yeonseok's eyes shut in pain, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off it. You watch it stain Yoongi's floor and you immediately cringe at the sight. 
He would have a lot to say, preferably arguing back to Yoongi that it could be an endless fight. This has to end. 
Yeonseok is barely in pain, holding himself bravely though as he straightens himself and stares at Yoongi before he moves it at you. “Fuck both of you.”
He storms out of the apartment, leaving not only a mess on Yoongi's kitchen floor and face, but in your heart too. 
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You're met with a warning glare the moment you press a little too hard. Though, the man in front of you remains silent as none of you dare to speak up. The cake is long forgotten, destined to be thrown away like most things in your life. Besides the blood still covering Yoongi's floor – even if it's just a few droplets – you've moved to his bathroom to take care of his wounds.
He argued not to but you insisted, throwing him a warning glare that made him agree.
“Are you okay?” he speaks up, breaking the silence as you toss away the disinfected cotton wool into the bin.
“Do I seem okay?” you question him, “What were you thinking, Yoongi?” you scold him, frowning once again as he opens his mouth before his own frown settles on his back then calm face. 
“What was I thinking? I'm not the one who barged in here to pick up a fight.”
“You provoked him to hit you, don't tell me otherwise.”
“I won't let him speak to me or to you that way in my home.”
That's a valid point. 
Yet you can't stop thinking that all of this could've been avoided if he just wouldn't provoke him. 
“Yeonseok is not violent, he wouldn't have hit you if you kept your mouth shut.”
“So I'm the bad guy here?” Yoongi exclaims, closing his eyes as he rubs his forehead for a second. “He had it coming and I don't regret it.”
“Yoongi–”
“No. Maybe you're okay with him slutshaming and disrespecting you, but I'm not. I'm not gonna stand there and run his mouth just because he's a fucking pussy.”
“I'm not saying–I get that. But you literally pull on his infertility. That wasn't fair nor nice, Yoongi.”
Yoongi sighs, staring at the ceiling to calm himself down. “That might be right. Wasn't exactly fair, but at that moment I didn't care. And looking at it now, I don't care now either.”
You stare at him in disappointment and sadness, leaning yourself against the sink as you hug yourself with your shaky arms. 
Yoongi watches you, gaze softening. “I'm not perfect either, Y/N. I'm far from it actually.”
“I'm not okay with what he said either. But you don't see me hitting him.”
“He hit me first.”
“Yes, because you provoked him to. And you fucking know it!”
Yoongi stares before an amused smirk makes it on his face. 
“Don't fucking look so pleased!” 
He laughs, shaking his head before his smile slowly drops and you're met with soft eyes again. 
“He would've left if we just–I don't know–but I'm sure there could've been no violence. He's hurt, Yoongi. I left him because I was no longer happy in that marriage. He's heartbroken.”
“Are you making excuses for him?”
“No!” you automatically argue.
“Sure sounds like it.” Yoongi scoffs.
You groan, rubbing the side of your face in frustration. 
“You're here scolding me and raising your voice when he came here and insulted not just me, but you too. And you're still trying to understand him?”
“It's because I know why he feels like that! It doesn't mean it's right! This could've gone so differently–and you just kept going. I told you guys to stop–but you ignored me and provoked him–” You stop yourself, staring at Yoongi who just stands in the middle of his bathroom watching you silently. His brows lift up causing you to sigh in defeat. “I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because you're here.”
Yoongi stays silent for a moment, letting you drown in your frustration and regret. His point is proven, he has nothing else to say. 
“Obviously I know he's not right either. What he did was stupid–he already came here angry and to see me here–” You sigh, sniffling a little as you turn around to grip the sink. You breathe through the urge to cry and break in front of Yoongi. “I know we talked about this but I should've never come here. This would not happen if I wasn't here.”
“Stop,” he stops you. Lifting up your gaze, you meet his eyes in the reflection of his mirror. “It's not your fault he acted like an asshole.”
“Yoongi, but in a way I provoked him too by coming here. By staying here.”
“That's messed up to think that,” he still argues back. “You know why you came here. Come on, we talked about this. Stop putting more blame onto yourself. He doesn't do it and you shouldn't either.”
“Because I know what I am saying is the truth.”
“It's your truth,” Yoongi points out, walking closer to you. “Know what I'm sayin'?”
You sniffle, “No.”
He laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the ends as his teeth are on full display. He turns you around by gently gripping onto your shoulder. You're stubborn, not wanting to face him as he nudges your chin to look up at him. His thumbs brushes underneath your eyes, preventing the tears sliding down your cheeks. 
“You know, you're just stubborn.” he muses amusingly and softly, just like his sound is. “Now I'm going to wipe the mess in the kitchen and will make us some tea.”
You stare at him in disbelief, seeing him taking a few steps away from you. He turns his back to you, ready to walk out. But he stops in his tracks. 
“And Y/N?”
You look at him with watery eyes. 
“Don't think of running away.”
It's a simple sentence, a tiny bit teasing on his part and you barely manage to break a smile. He does not stay for any longer, taking care of the mess in his kitchen just like he said he would.
When you join him, you see him wiping the last remains of your husband's blood before his kitchen is just as new. Yoongi tells you to sit on the couch and turn on a movie. You don't argue even though watching a movie is the last thing on your wishlist. He joins you shortly after. The bundt cake sliced neatly on a plate, accompanied with two cups of tea. He munches on the cake throughout the movie, even offers you to eat but you shake your head at him, declining his offer. 
He manages to eat all the slices, handing you a blanket when he sees you hugging yourself. 
“Yoongi?” you speak silently throughout the movie. 
“Hm?” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
The side of your face pressed against the couch, you stare up at him. “For everything.”
“Are you getting sentimental for me?” he muses, turning it into fun and you realize, you prefer it that way. It loosens up the entire moment and situation, even if just a little bit.
“No, just thankful. I know it sounded like I blamed you, it was wrong of me. You were just here and I let my frustration out on you.”
He smiles, shaking his head as if silently telling you to let it go. “I told you I'm not perfect. I am to be blamed for a lot of things. But I don't regret it.”
“Even if your knuckles are cracked?”
A silent laugh comes from the side. “They're not fully cracked but yeah, even then.”
For the first time after the fight, you let a laugh out of yourself as well.
“Come on, you should go to bed. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”
“Talk about it?” you question, swallowing down a yawn that wants to let out. He's right. You're tired and should go to bed. 
“The clothes, you need to get them. I will go with you.”
You sit up, hair a little bit ruffled which makes Yoongi stifle back a laugh. “You will? You sure?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” 
He doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you to interact with Yeonseok, just in case he's there. Considering how shaken up you're from their interaction earlier, and yours too, you shouldn't go through that alone. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You've been through a lot while carrying a fucking human inside of you. That shit is mental.
He makes it sound easy, so easy that you just as easily agree and stand up to move to the bedroom. You linger at the edge of the couch, thinking about still having to change your clothes and take a quick shower. 
“It's probably weird, especially after Yeonseok's outburst but you should sleep in the bedroom tonight as well.”
“Don't listen to him,” he says simply, “But are you sure though?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” you repeat his earlier words, smiling at it which causes him to chuckle at your slight teasing. 
“Fine, my back will thank you tomorrow.”
Laughing, you retrieve to the bedroom to get your sleeping clothes that consist of Yoongi's oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. God, you really need your own clothes.
While you're in the shower, Yoongi lets the movie continue without actually paying any attention to it. His knuckles slightly burn, the skin there trying to heal. A side of his jaw hurts but knowing Yeonseok's in a worse state makes it better. It's a little bit childish, he admits that but that asshole deserved it. He thinks he can just punch him and not expect a punch back? 
His parents would curse the shit out of him. Regardless if Yeonseok was the first one to attack, Yoongi would be painted as the one that's violent because he fought back. Fuck. He can already hear their potential words so clearly.
You shouldn't have fought back.
It's your fault he's angry.
They've always seen him in a bad light. Partly, he doesn't blame them. He's always been more controversial and wild than his brother. The thing is it wasn't accepted in the family and was approached with a massive hit of criticism and negativity. Partly, Yoongi blames them for how he turned out. 
Reaching for his phone, he dials Jimin's number without a second thought. He had enough time to think this through and know that he promised something, he can't change it. He would look like a total asshole. Plus, he doesn't want to change it. Somehow, you've grown to like him. It's embarrassing to admit, but seeing you in such a poor state makes him pity you. You would hate him for these thoughts, that much he knows. 
“Bro, it's like night.” Jimin accepts the call with a scolding tone.
“I need you to take tomorrow's appointments.”
“Why? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, tone changing to a confused one. Yoongi has never canceled any of his appointments. A part of keeping his business good and professional, he always dedicated all of his time there. He's not surprised by Jimin's confusion.
“Yeah, I just have some errands to run and I won't be able to be there for a whole day.” He gives a brief explanation, not giving any details. 
It's not like he doesn't want to share. Even though he's not a sharing type and keeps stuff to himself, he doesn't see any point in sharing a huge portion of your mess that is called life. It just doesn't seem fair at all.
“Dude, everyone's gonna be mad. They want you, you know that!” Jimin argues, panicking which is understandable. 
Yoongi doesn't brag about it, but he knows most clients come to him for their tattoos specifically. Everyone in his team is good, he doesn't doubt it. But even they know how some people come to the studio specifically for Yoongi. 
“I can't reschedule them, I'm fully packed.”
“Duh, I know that! What are you even doing Yoongi?”
“None of your business,” Yoongi answers calmly and casually, causing his friend to groan loudly into the receiver. “Just do it. If they don't wanna get tattooed, just give them back their deposit. Or reschedule their appointments, though they might wait months.”
“This better be worth it.” He hears him mumble.
“It's a family emergency.” It's the only explanation Yoongi offers him.
“Family? You don't care about your family.” Jimin points out the obvious, causing Yoongi to purse his lips slightly offended. 
It's not like he doesn't care about them. Sure, he seems like it but it's not exactly the truth. He doesn't blame Jimin for thinking it though. He made it seem and obvious as if he doesn't care about them. In some fucked up twisted way, he does. 
“Thanks, I owe you.” Yoongi ignores his previous words, not putting them any more attention than he already did by listening to them. 
“You bet…” Jimin mutters under his breath, not having enough time to complain as his kind friend ends the call with that.
Later after he takes a shower while you're already in bed, he joins you. He thinks you're asleep but by the sound of your breathing and fidgeting, you're still awake.
“Can't sleep?”
You flinch a little, probably surprised by his sudden voice and the fact he's aware of you being awake. “It's the baby.”
“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asks right away without thinking of it. He lays back, clearing his throat as he stares at the plain ceiling instead. The entire bedroom is swallowed in darkness, letting only moonlight in. He has noticed you prefer sleeping that way and he doesn't have the heart to close curtains. 
“No,” you giggle, “She's just moving a lot. Sometimes even kicks me.”
“She… she does?” Yoongi asks, unsure. He has zero knowledge about babies. Let alone how it properly works inside a woman's uterus. It's pretty laughable because he's that clueless.
“Yeah, probably won't let me sleep for a while.”
“What a brat.” Yoongi mutters and you gasp, elbowing his side as he cackles at you. 
“You did not just say that,” you exclaim, offended as he continues to laugh silently under his breath. “She's been an active baby lately.” 
You've no idea why you're even telling him that. Something just wants you to fill up the sentence. You and him don't talk about the baby a lot. It seems like a taboo topic for understandable reasons and that's solely for not making it too weird.
Yoongi's quiet and while your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly see him fully awake with eyes open, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. You turn to your side, hissing when you feel a light kick in your ribs coming from inside.
“What are you thinking about?”
He doesn't look like he wants to answer, something holding him back. But then he probably seems awkward enough so he swallows, shrugging.
“My mom always said I moved a lot and shit like that. You know–like when she was pregnant.”
The hint of something that has been secretive but very obvious to you from the start causes your breath to catch in your throat. You've never openly talked about the baby being biologically Yoongi's. It's not something you can forget and despite not talking about it, you've been thinking about it almost all the time.
“Oh…”
“Yeah…” he mutters. “Is that weird shit to say?”
“It's not weird,” you assure him softly. Kind of. “I actually find it interesting. If it… if it was a stranger I probably wouldn't know these things.”
“Forget about it, I was just babbling. It just reminded me of that when you said…”
“It's okay, Yoongi.” You laugh at that, feeling his embarrassment. It's practically seeping from him. “Thank you for that. I mean–I'm grateful for that information. Is that a weird thing to say?”
“No, unless we make it weird.” he states, voice different from the usual laid back Yoongi you know. It's kind of cute.
“Okay, let's not make it weird. Let's talk about something else.”
“Talk? You should sleep.”
“I can't when she's moving around so much.” you argue.
It's silent for a moment.
“Does… does it hurt?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “But not so much yet. It probably will get worse once she's bigger.”
“God, why do women go through that?” he mumbles, causing you to snort.
“If your mother didn't go through that, you wouldn't be here.”
“What a lovely life that would be.” he hums thoughtlessly, while you choke back onto your laughter.
“Don't say that!” you scold him. “None of us have asked to be here.” 
“True.”
Again, a little awkward silence is shared between you. Well, you're not sure it's purely awkward but you're both fully awake, not ready to fall asleep just yet. You don't know about Yoongi but…
You groan when the little baby growing inside you starts to move around again. You caress your stomach, feeling as if she has a hiccup. “I think she has a hiccup.”
He probably doesn't care, but you share that thought out loud. 
“You can feel that?” He sounds confused.
“Yeah,” you nod. “You wanna feel it?”
He stays silent. And for a second, you're sure you've crossed a line and he will just go backwards, distancing from you and the entire situation. 
Indeed, Yoongi feels a little awkward about your question. He has distanced himself, not wanting to admit the fact that you're indeed carrying a baby he helped conceive. It's a weird shit to think about. He can't think about it because it automatically makes him feel uncomfortable. He never had a plan to stay in contact with you. 
He would never imagine sharing a bed with you, unless it was for a sex. And you had lots of it. Maybe not as much as he wanted but still. 
If he knew you would be laying in his bed pregnant, he would probably never agree to this. As bad as it sounds. 
This scares him.
But then he thinks of you and your perspective. He has no idea what your thoughts are, well some of them. But something about your innocent and sweet tone makes him rethink. You're here, after an awful day, not crying like he has expected you to do. He sees the light in your tone, one that's caused by the baby growing inside you. You're trying to be friendly, having just as friendly a conversation and Yoongi realizes – he's that for you. 
A friend. 
You need a friend. You've no one else to talk about it, not currently at least. You've distanced yourself from everyone else for understandable reasons, and he can relate to that.
“Won't that be awkward?” he questions. 
“Not unless you make it to be.” you hit him back with his own words, the fact causing his mouth to twitch. 
“Okay, sure. It's a one time experience anyway.”
You snort, “You make it sound as if you won't ever meet a pregnant lady.”
“I've met a few but never had an urge to touch their belly. That shit's weird.”
Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Maybe in the future, you will.”
“Future?” he asks, completely confused. 
“Maybe if you're gonna have a wife or a girlfriend.” you say, slightly unsure of this topic. Is it okay for you to talk about this? Either way, it's too late to not answer his question anyway. 
After all, this specific topic shouldn't be weird.
“I don't want kids,” he informs you, carefully but sternly at the same time. “So that's not happening.”
Sighing, you don't argue about that. If he accidentally gets someone pregnant, he won't be able to control that aspect but you don't remind him of that. He seems stubborn and determined about this opinion of his. And you respect it.
It's silly and you shouldn't have the right to feel this way, but you feel slightly saddened that he's so keen on telling you he doesn't want kids. Even though you've known that for a long time. It's a reminder that he does not want to have anything to do with the baby inside you. It's nothing new but somehow that thought still doesn't sit with you well. 
Instead, you swallow all those feelings and take the duvet off your body. 
“Whatever,” you murmur nonchalantly. “Give me your hand.”
He does, without question. You try not to think about how warm and big his hand feels. You ignore the little fluttering butterflies that set in the pit of your stomach and inside your chest. Your baby is not to be blamed for. 
You move his hand on your stomach but not before pulling up your shirt. You're starting to feel too warm anyway. This way he'll be able to tell the movements more clearly. 
“You feel it?” you ask, holding his hand as soon as it's placed over your swollen stomach.
“No? I ain't feel shit.”
You giggle, “You're an ass.” 
But then, a sudden kick is sent next to Yoongi's hand. It wasn't a direct move under his palm but he had to feel it regardless. A surprised Oh makes it out of his mouth.
“That's so weird,” he mumbles thoughtfully. 
Then she continues again, her little movements more recognizable and becoming slowly familiar to the man laying next to you. 
“She's so active.”
“She is,” you hum, slowly letting go of his hands. He lets it rest there for a moment, taking the cue as he pulls it away slowly. “Could let me sleep now though.” You try to play it cool and calm down your racing heart. 
Pulling the shirt back down and covering yourself with the duvet, you're trying to act cool like before. 
“Wow,” Yoongi says, taken back. “It's weird to think there's another person inside you.”
“Tell me something about it,” you chuckle. “I've wanted to get pregnant for a long time. But nothing could've prepared me for the way it feels. It's weird, I can't describe it.”
He surely can't understand what you're talking about. You don't want him to. You just let your thoughts run free. Some part of you wants to confess those thoughts to Yoongi. Another weird thing to say, but he's like a safe place in a twisted way. You can be honest, even though you're slightly sheepish about it. You can confide in him.
You think he has no idea what he means to you. And even if it's just for a certain time being, you're grateful for it regardless. 
Before you know it, the movements stop and you're finally allowed the tiredness to come in. You slowly drift to sleep, clueless to Yoongi being fully awake as he stares at the ceiling with the weirdest feeling all over his body. 
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It's not as if morning is any better. Surprisingly, you haven't had that much trouble sleeping and you barely woke up. Yeonseok hasn't haunted you in your dreams either, which made it more enjoyable and comfortable. You were too exhausted last night, so a good sleep made it better for you to see today's morning in a better light. 
Yoongi's still asleep, his alarm hasn't ringed yet and you wondered if you should wake him up. Maybe he forgot to set up his alarm, but something tells you that's very unlikely. 
After you've washed your face and teeth, you decided to give him a few minutes and will try to wake him in case he has really slept in. However, the aftermath of yesterday's events and your good sleep, a cause of your positivism, doesn't last too long when your phone rings. 
At first, you don't think much of it. Your father calls you from time to time, he has to when you suddenly go silent. Using busyness as a great excuse when you've been anything but that. He doesn't know that which makes the lie more believable. 
As you get to hear his raspy voice again, you expect him to start the same way.
How are you? 
Why haven't you called?
But none of that comes as he sounds nothing but concerned, even a little skeptic.
“Y/N, is everything okay with you?”
That alone should alarm you and it does, but you remain cool and voice your confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn't I be?”
“Don't lie. What's happening there?”
He doesn't sound upset, he sounds more worried than anything else. “What do you mean? I'm fine.”
“Really? Because Yeonseok called us yesterday, well today, he kept saying something about you sleeping with his brother?”
You freeze, shame washing over you like the coldest bucket of ice.
“Is that true?”
“Dad, I promise you–It's nothing like that.” 
Perfect. Thanks Yeonseok a lot.
“He was also wasted, could barely talk. Called us like two in the morning.”
Sighing, you sit down as you grip your phone tighter. It seems like you can't have a rest for at least one day. Everything keeps biting you in your ass when you think things are getting better. It fucking sucks. 
“We're going through a rough patch right now.”
“And you broke up with him?”
“I–technically yes but it wasn't like that. I promise you, it's nothing like that.” you telling, aiming at Yeonseok's accusation that might not be a complete lie but you know how it sounds. 
“Then how is it?”
“Dad, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry Yeonseok woke you and Barbara,” you say, mentioning his longtime girlfriend who's like your step-mom. You know she's just as worried. You're surprised she's not the one that called. “He has a hard time dealing with our break-up.”
“He said you're staying at his brother's, is that true?”
One thing about your father is that he never really got into your business. If he was curious or even nosy, he never let it known because he respected everyone's space and privacy. So to have him question you like this means he's truly worried and the call he received from your still husband has made him alarmed. 
“Yes–”
“So it's true? Y/N, have you cheated on him?”
“God, no!” You exclaim loudly, taking a deep breath as you release it in a form of loud sigh. Technically you haven't. “I haven't cheated on anyone. Look, it's really complicated. I had nowhere else to go.”
“Nowhere else to go? You could've come here.”
You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “I know but I didn't wanna bother you with our issues. Yoongi is familiar with it, so I just decided to come here. It's just for a few nights, I will figure it out. Don't worry.”
“How can I not worry when I found out from my son-in-law that you're not living at home? And that you live with his brother instead?”
“He's not exactly the perfect husband you have him for, dad.”
“What do you mean by that? Did he hurt you?”
“Not like that,” You shake your head. “I had a share on it too. None of us are innocent. Look, all you have to know for now is that I'm okay. I need to figure this out on my own. You've nothing to worry about.”
“You can't just tell me you live somewhere else with Yeonseok's brother, and tell me not to worry!”
“Listen, dad. I love you but I'm very close to hanging up. I understand you're worried but you're not exactly helping me with freaking out. I told you I'm fine, so please trust your daughter instead. I'll handle it and I'll talk about it when I'm ready.”
Well, you're not sure if you should tell him the entire truth. The thought of that is embarrassing and completely uncomfortable. You're not going to tell your dad that you've slept with another man just to get pregnant. Even if Yeonseok agreed to it. 
Overall, you would spare him the details. 
“But you're pregnant. You're carrying his child. You can't just leave and not talk to him.”
“Oh, I talked to him. He's not as interested in being a father as he was.”
“What?!” He yells into the phone, causing you to cringe at his shocked and upset tone. “He said that?!”
“Along the lines,” you mumble, “Don't worry, I'm doing fine. So is your granddaughter.” 
“G-granddaughter?”
That finally gets his mind off Yeonseok. “Yes. I had it confirmed yesterday.”
He sighs, chuckling on the other line. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Y/N–”
“Dad–please.” 
He sighs in defeat. “Okay. But promise me you'll call if you need something.”
“I always will, dad. Please don't worry.”
Eventually, you end the call. Just as your phone is being tossed onto the counter, Yoongi sleepily steps into the kitchen with bed hair and narrowed eyes. “Why were you yelling?”
“It's nothing.”
“Y/N…” Yoongi warns, narrowing his eyes through his tiredness.
“It was my dad. Yeonseok called him drunk last night.”
“Fuck,” That has him waking up as he stares you down. “What did he say?”
“That I cheated and I'm staying at your place.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Not much,” you admit, “I don't want him to worry.”
“He's a fucking idiot.”
“Yoongi…”
“No, he is.” He insists, rubbing his chest tiredly as anger twists his puffy face. He looks cute, even with the tattooed sleeve that's on full display. 
“He was drunk,” you point out. “Surely angry and upset.”
“I'm surprised he didn't run to mommy and daddy.”
“Shit,” you exclaim. “What if he did?”
“Would it matter?” Yoongi questions.
You stare at him as if he grew two heads. “Of course! What would they think of me?”
“You really care about that?”
“If he told them the story that I cheated on him with you, I do care!”
Yoongi sighs, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his chest. “We know it's not the truth. Not exactly. And we will explain that to them if it ever came down to it.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is,” he argues. “And there's no need for you to worry about it too much, alright?”
You give him Really? Look.
“If he called your dad, I really doubt he got our parents involved. Knowing them, they would call or barge in here right away.”
“You think?”
“Oh, I know.” he hums. “So don't worry and get yourself ready.”
That's right. You're supposed to get your clothes today. But you thought it'll be later on, probably when he gets back from work or over his lunchtime. You just need to get your things. It shouldn't take too long. 
“Are you not going to work today?”
“No, I have a day off.”
“Really? You never mentioned anything about having a day off.” you wonder, staring at him straightening himself as he stretches his arms, shrugging.
“Didn't think it's important.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “What if he's there?”
Yoongi watches you for a moment, “That's why I'm going with you.”
“I think that will piss him even more if he sees you there.”
“Should I not come?”
You shake your head, “That's not what I meant. I just–I don't know what's right or not anymore.”
“It's true, maybe he wouldn't get so angry but there's no guarantee he won't get verbal again. I just don't think you should go through that alone.”
Something about his words make your chest warm, an appreciative smile beaming on your lips but you shake yourself out of it as a smirk replaces it. “Are you starting to care about me?”
What you get in return is a mixture of a chuckle and smirk. “I'm serious, Y/N,” he says, more seriously. “I'm going just in case he needs another punch.”
“Please, don't say that.” Your smile drops. 
“I can't promise anything but I'll try to be on my best behavior.”
“Somehow, that doesn't go along with you.” you tell him with suspicious eyes as he smirks. 
“You're gonna have to wait and see.”
“No fights.” you warn him, lifting up your finger at him to make yourself clear. 
“Okay, mom.”
“Ew.” you cringe, walking past him but not before slapping his chest. “Keep it down.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
You walk back into the bedroom, to change your clothes and get yourself ready with an unbelievable smile on your face. You fight the sheets neat and made, a fresh air filling the bedroom that has become too familiar to you. 
With a lighter feeling in your chest, you prepare yourself for what's about to come.
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poohsources · 10 months
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🐝  *  ―  𝑭𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
❛  i promised my parents i'd introduce them to my partner the next time they came around ... will you please pretend to be my girlfriend / boyfriend?  ❜ ❛  you can stop pretending, there's no one around anymore.  ❜ ❛  somewhere along the way, my fake feelings became real feelings for you.  ❜ ❛  if you want others to believe we're dating, you'll have to start acting like you at least like me.  ❜ ❛  do you think they believed we're in love?  ❜ ❛  thank you for pretending to be my boyfriend / girlfriend.  ❜ ❛  if you still need a date for tonight, i'm free.  ❜ ❛  they're looking suspicious. quick, kiss me.  ❜ ❛  give me one more stupid pet name and i'll break up with you right here, right now.  ❜ ❛  can you please pretend to be my partner so this asshole will leave me alone?  ❜ ❛  it says couples only ... let's say we're dating and we'll get in.  ❜ ❛  we don't have to kiss, do we?  ❜ ❛  no one's going to buy it unless we actually commit to the act.  ❜ ❛  i'm not comfortable with doing anything more than holding your hand.  ❜ ❛  it feels wrong to lie to everyone like that. why can't we just tell them we're just friends?  ❜ ❛  fake dating you is a lot more fun than i expected.  ❜ ❛  surprisingly, i really enjoy your company. we should do this again sometime.  ❜ ❛  my date bailed on me, can you take their place instead?  ❜ ❛  can we do this again? but maybe this time as an actual date.  ❜ ❛  relax, so far everything went well and no one is suspecting anything yet.  ❜ ❛  i don't think i can fake being in love with you anymore ... because i've fallen in love with you for real. ❜ ❛  the others are going to catch on if you keep sending me death stares.  ❜ ❛  please say you'll do it so they'll finally stop harassing me to find someone.  ❜ ❛  i heard you needed a date tonight, so here i am.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to do anything if you aren't comfortable with it.  ❜ ❛  shouldn't we go over our stories so we don't accidentally tell people two completely different versions of how we met?  ❜ ❛  wow, you almost convinced me you really meant what you were saying.  ❜ ❛  wait, this wasn't part of the act?  ❜ ❛  we're already so close, no one will suspect a thing.  ❜ ❛  okay, but won't we have to explain it when we break up?  ❜ ❛  if you really want to get out of this so bad, you'll have to be the ones to break up with me in front of our friends and family.  ❜ ❛  i couldn't have asked for a better person to be my fake girlfriend / boyfriend.  ❜ ❛  when did your feelings for me become real?  ❜ ❛  how long do we have to keep this up?  ❜ ❛  i don't like lying to people about things like that ... but if it'll make you happy i'll do it.  ❜ ❛  want to help me make my ex jealous?  ❜ ❛  i know this wasn't part of the plan but i think i've caught real feelings for you.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to pretend anymore ... no one's looking anyway.  ❜ ❛  was any of it real or was it all just fake? because it didn't feel fake to me.  ❜ ❛  will you at least hold my hand?  ❜
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