#( it's a disguise and the red thing is a button-up he usually *wears* but he looks so cute )

[orangetintedglasses]

( you think I won't put his hair up this is what he looks like in Discord land right now--

edit: I FOUND THE ORIGINAL SKETCHES I DID-- )

[tranquilpetrichor]

lesson learned

synopsis: in which a tutoring session turns out to be much more in disguise.

cast: tutor!gunwook x fem!reader ft. gyuvin and ricky (briefly)

genre: high school!au, f2l

wc: 2.2k (2225)

warnings: suggestive, making out, yn’s outfit has a skirt, gunwook kisses yn on neck, they call each other "cute" and "hot, they r nerds, please don’t do this in a study room, barely proofread and edited help

a/n: i swear why is finishing stuff so hard, this could be so much better but i'm happy i managed to finish it. also it's kinda hard not writing from y/n's perspective but it shre is interesting. i wanna make longer fics lol but for now enjoy this bc i love writing about nerds and especially ones who are down bad.

be sure to reblog and like to support your creators!

bright sunlight filtered in through the windows of the empty study room as park gunwook typed away on his laptop, trying to get homework done quickly.

outside, some students were walking across campus, birds were flying freely, and there were a distinct lack of clouds in the sky.

he would probably be there too, but he was supposed to be tutoring you soon. as boredom was slowly starting to set in, he double-checked the time. it was one minute after your appointment was set to begin.

odd. you weren’t usually late to anything.

before he could ponder it further, you walked into the room, sighed and put your stuff beside him, apologizing for being late. “i was talking to another professor about something, and i didn’t expect it to take that long. my bad…”

something seemed a bit different about you, but he wasn’t sure why. he shrugged the thought off and chuckled quietly.

“it’s no problem, y/n. one minute is nothing. do you prefer the curtains open or closed?”

you waved a hand at the window. “let’s close them.”

he got up and pressed a button on the light switch panel near the doorway, and the curtains automatically came down. this private school sure spent money on interesting things, but at least they were occasionally useful.

cute outfit, he thought.

was that a new pair of boots? it paired nicely with the skirt you were wearing. you managed to look hot and adorable at the same time.

how unprofessional to be distracted by your appearance—he frowned.

snap out of it. it’s time to do math, not stare like an idiot.

luckily, you didn’t say anything, even though he swore he saw a tiny smirk on your face, which you quickly removed in favor of a more neutral expression.

that was weird, he thought as you got your tablet out—the one you liked to take notes on during the calculus class you two had together.

he wasn’t sure of your exact grade in the class, but he heard it was quite high. you were smart, but didn’t seem to have problems asking for help if you needed it. in his opinion, that was pretty admirable.

gunwook noticed that if you did need help, you’d go to the teacher or try and talk to him. the two of you exchanged numbers eventually, texting each other for study sessions.

he loved being able to talk to you more, slowly learning little things about you—like how you wore a certain necklace on big days for luck, that your go-to snack was nuts (he couldn’t help but think of you as a squirrel after that), and that you had a dog named citrus.

he got the feeling that you weren’t the biggest on socializing with many people, preferring to only keep compaany with a few friends. he’s mutual friends with a few of them, like jungwon.

it was refreshing compared to his large friend group (although he loved them) and the many people who were merely interested in him for his looks.

of course, he wouldn’t mind if you were interested in his looks, but hopefully you also liked something beyond that.

you probably did—who else would end up chatting about precious stones or logical fallacies with him? he loved seeing you excited and passionate.

god, his face was probably going to be red if he kept this up.

“i see you said you wanted to look at stuff from the last lecture when you were booking the session,” he said, trying to banish certain thoughts from his head. “series can be difficult, so i get it.”

you nodded, offering him a sweet smile. “yeah, i just wanna go over a few of the divergence and convergence problems on the first practice problem set. i have the problems listed here.”

you pushed your tablet in his direction, and he picked it up.

he glanced at your solution for the first one, nearly written. “i mean, it looks like you applied the test correctly. just to make sure, how did you know to use that one?”

you didn’t hesitate to answer.

“given series is a p-series where p is equal to three. p is greater than three, so the series will converge.”

as expected, you kept up with his questioning. of course you probably knew what a damn p-series is. he’d just wanted to hear your voice some more.

speaking of voices, maintaining a professional tone with you was a miracle. gunwook’s composure and eloquence were paramount to getting him through student council meetings, debates and tutoring sessions, but those skills seemed to want a temporary vacation.

“do you want to move onto the next one?” he said, defaulting to his standard tutor voice.

“mhm. i remember our teacher said there was more than one way to do it. i never tried to figure out the other ways, but now i’m curious.”

gunwook flipped to a certain page in his notebook. “do you want me to show you how i did it? it’s definitely a different method, but we got the same answer.”

you shrugged. “sure. take your time.”

you were twirling your stylus pen in your hands and swiftly tucked it atop your ear. fuck, did you not know how cute you looked? your hair was neatly parted near the middle right now, but he wondered what it’d be like to see you disheveled. at this point, he might be thinking with something other than his brain.

you spent another few minutes talking with him, bringing his memory back to previous tutoring sessions. he remembered you said once that having to justify your reasoning on a topic was one of the best ways to deepen understanding, and that he was skilled at identifying the holes in your arguments.

“that’s why i would hate to lose a debate against you,” you had admitted. “it’s always more fun when we can work together.”

the offhanded comment could’ve had another meeting. as an friend, gunwook couldn’t quite discern your intentions, though. whether you just wanted him at arms length or in your arms was just another guessing game he played.

he was aware that the balance of power was always shifting between you two, but at the end of the day, you two were pretty much equals intellectually, keeping things in equilibrium. however, his underlying feelings of attraction threatened to ruin the balance.

as the session continued, you had a satisfied smile. you asked him about unrelated math proofs and got him off track. why did you want to discuss all this when your sessions were usually more focused? something was definitely off.

“well, that was actually everything i wanted to ask about,” you said to him suddenly, packing up swiftly. “i was just going to go if you don’t have anything else.”

he frowned.

no, please don’t.

what was wrong with him?

“unless, you wanted me to stay..” you continued, a smirk on your face. your laptop was closed and all of your study materials were neatly filed away.

you were definitely teasing him, and it was working, your behavior making him somewhat flustered. there was no turning back if he let himself escalate things right now. he could just let you leave—that’s what rational gunwook would do.

fuck it. rational gunwook was not in the room right now.

he reached out and grasped your arm. “and if i did?”

you smirked and stepped towards him. “then i’ll make sure you don’t regret your choice.”

with that, you pressed your lips to his, surprising him. gunwook quickly recovered, his arm snaking around your waist, pulling you in more.

no wonder you booked the session for an hour and a half.

if anyone opens this door, i’m definitely getting kicked out as a tutor. at least these walls are pretty soundproof.

he pulled away for a bit to catch his breath. "wow, did you come here just to kiss me?”

you laughed, gazing at his eyes. "it wasn't only for that, although i'd be happy to do it again. let me clarify. i have feelings for you.”

you continued. “i’ve honestly thought about it. you’re hardworking, and not just in the classroom. when i see you practicing or studying, you dedicate yourself fully, and it inspires me to do the same. you're kind, even to people who don't deserve it. on top of that, you’ve always been a good person to talk to about anything and everything. i trust you.”

“oh, and i guess you’re cute. and hot.”

you added the last part with a small smile. after each reason, he found himself surprised by your sincere words.

gunwook groaned. “y/n, you have no idea how down bad i am. i don't even remember exactly when it started, but what i do know is that i met someone interesting, someone who challenges me and jokes with me. someone who's beautiful in every way. i'm so fucking into you."

he paused, before deciding to tease you a little. "i have a question about one thing, though. you ‘guess’ i’m cute?”

“well, did you want me to say for a fact that you’re cute?” you asked.

he pouted slightly. “would have been better.”

“fine,” you said, taking his hand. “it is an undisputed fact that you’re cute.”

“thank you.”

"and hot."

"i guess so..." you rolled your eyes, an amused grin on your face. “now can we get back to kissing?”

“i was acually trying to be professional, even though i had feelings for you too,” he whispered against your ear. “but since you insist, i’ll give you what you want.”

not wanting to rush despite his boyish excitement, he leaned down and slowly began to kiss you again, running one of his hands gently through your hair. you closed your eyes.

“want you to take control, gunwook,” you said, your breath hot against his skin and your arms wrapping around his neck.

how could he say no? he was so screwed whenever it came to you. wasting no time, he brought your hips closer to his, enjoying the proximity.

he’d never seen you like this, so blissful and carefree. all he wanted to do in this moment was to make sure you kept feeling that way.

he got a small idea.

“hold on, i’m going to lift you,” he said, and you tightened your hold on him, lifting your legs so that they wrapped around his waist. you looked like a koala, hanging on so protectively to him like he was a branch.

you let out a tiny laugh of glee—it was the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

he moved over to a chair, and carefully sat down with you in his arms. your skirt was spread across your lap, contributing to the newfound messiness of your appearance, and your legs dangled off both sides of the chair.

“let me know if you don’t like something,” he said in between kisses. “the last thing i want to do is pressure you.”

“of course,” you responded, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly.

as a surge of newfound confidence rushed through him, his kisses became more intense, trailing down to your collarbone. you tilted your neck slightly to allow him more access to the area.

shit, he was probably the luckiest guy alive right now.

“so beautiful,” he murmured, tracing your chin with one of his hands, “and you’re mine.”

damn, calm down now.

“wow, for someone who’s so sweet, you sure do have a possessive side.”

he winced. “is it too much?”

you laughed and smiled playfully. “not at all. i find it hot.”

that sentence alone sent a warmth through his body.

“that’s good to know,” he replied with a smirk. he was definitely going to do that more often.

soon, his lips found yours again, like a moth to a flame. damn, he could spend all day doing this (if they had no risk of getting caught).

in his pocket, his phone buzzed, and he sighed, looking at the notification.

gyuvin: r u coming to get ice cream with me and ricky? u said ur tutoring thing with ur gf ends at 4:00

the time was 3:44 pm. wow, were they really at it for that long?

gunwook smiled. gyuvin had texted “gf” as a joke, but little did the poor guy know.

“is it something important?” you asked, still on his lap.

he shut off the phone, looking back at you. “it’s gyuvin. during lunch, me, him and ricky made last minute plans to get ice cream—they’re asking me if i still want to come. i should get going soon.”

of course, his feet didn’t want to move.

you looked intrigued. “do they mind a plus one?”

yeah, they're going to tease me the entire time.

“i’ll ask,” he responded, face somewhat warm from embarrassment. "but one of these days, i’ll take you out on a proper date, just us two. you deserve it.”

your eyes lit up, and you smiled. “i’ll hold you to it, gunwook.”

his phone buzzed again.

gyuvin: yea sure bring her, we support

gyuvin: besides i have ricky he's gonna be my bf now

"they said yes," gunwook said, laughing silently at gyuvin's last message. "let's go in 5 minutes?"

you reciprocated, resting your head gently on his shoulder. "any longer and i don't think i could leave."

[lyricalt]

[tf2 mini fic] roll over

BLU and RED spies take a smoke break together.

(Implied R!Sniper/R!Spy, PG)

bonus scene: the sequel for all bite. There was no way to fit it neatly in the main fic so here it is.

---

There is something different about RED Sniper. 

BLU Spy considers the body, slumped awkwardly in its seat. He taps his foot in contemplation.

Something is off. It bothers him that he cannot quite place it, but he has an instinct for this kind of thing. He remembers the way RED’s sniper had turned a little too late from the window. That flash of annoyance across his face had been fun to see, per usual, and he’d died quite appropriately to the butterfly knife. 

At the risk of soiling his shoes with blood, BLU Spy kicks the body so that it falls to the floor, splayed out and arms akimbo. He cranes his neck and pulls out his disguise kit.

After a moment, he blinks. Ah-hah. He sees it now. The change. He snorts, flipping through his paper masks until he finds the one with RED Sniper’s face on it.

“How interesting,” he says with a laugh, and takes a pen out from his pocket to make the correction.

---

There is a secluded backdoor in one of the factories with an awning that hardly anyone uses. The spies tend to take their ten minute smoke break there, away from the main battle but still close enough to hear whatever’s going on. It’s irrelevant on when the daily smoke break occurs, but this time BLU Spy leaves a note for an early meeting.

They smoke in silence for a bit. Both are leaning against the wall with the locked door between them. 

BLU Spy speaks up first, letting his arm fall back to his side, flicking ash from his cigarette. “There’s a possibility I had to update my disguise kit because of you.”

“Hm? Someone on my team wearing a new hat?” RED Spy asks.

They speak in the privacy of French, casual and pleasant, because it’s their only chance in the day to not be so secretive. A nice ten minutes to shoot the shit.

“No. It was something very subtle. But you know me, always obsessing over details.” BLU Spy pauses, just shy of being dramatic, because he can’t very well hold it in. He’s been waiting ages to speak to his counterpart today. 

“You do have an eye for them, Bleu. Well?”

“Your sniper, Monsieur Rouge,” Bleu says, watching RED Spy very carefully. “The one with the, hm, ‘keen eyes’ and ‘fast trigger’.” After a moment, he gleefully punches RED’s arm. “You sly dog.”

For three seconds, Rouge’s expression is one of perfect blankness. Bleu is about to congratulate him on his poise when Rogue shoots up from the wall to grab Bleu’s upper arm, shaking it with such intensity that Bleu fears his arm might vibrate out of its socket.

“No. Don’t tell me he’s wearing that. Not in public,” RED Spy starts, so aghast he abandons his carefully cultivated European French and slips back into his natural Quebecois accent. “This can’t be. I didn’t think he would-”

“I saw it myself.” Bleu shuffles the paper masks in his kit and carefully removes Rouge’s grip off him when he almost drops the entire stack. “Would you like to see? I’ve already added it to my repertoire.”

Rouge has since launched into a litany of “no no no no no no no, he can’t do this to me-” while Bleu takes his time finding the right mask. A second cigarette makes an appearance in Rogue’s fingers. He begins to smoke both at the same time. It’s a nostalgic sight to see. Bleu has not seen Rouge double fist cigarettes since their days at the university during final exams. 

Rouge hisses, “Please, M. Bleu, don’t put that o-”

Pleading hands grasp at his sleeve to no effect. Bleu slips on the disguise. Poor Rouge looks like he wants to perish on the spot from sheer mortification. His eyes dart to BLU Spy’s throat.

There is nothing at Bleu’s neck. Rouge would see his sniper’s RED uniform in perfect order, not a hair or button out of place.

BLU Spy lifts the kukri illusion, pointing to a very nice piece of strap fitted along the shoulder, a touch thicker than the rest of the sling. At first glance, it appears to be a nice lanyard to hang an extra carabiner on the shiny metal ring. 

Or perhaps something else could be clipped on such a fine metal ring. Who could say.

“Quite subtle indeed,” Bleu says, imitating RED Sniper’s voice, though the intonation is entirely wrong. He smiles, serene, and doesn’t hesitate to deal a killing blow in the form of a head tilt and a playful, “Arf-arf.”

There is a third cigarette between Rouge’s fingers. He squats down and smokes them all in silence, sucking them down to the filter. He looks like he wishes for the ground to swallow him up.

They still have four minutes left of their break so Bleu takes pity on the man and pulls off the mask. The disguise fizzes away, leaving him back in his blue suit. He pats Rouge’s shoulder and joins him squating on the ground, forearms resting on his knees. There’s only so much aloof leaning against a wall that he can take in a day. 

He nudges Rouge. “It’s going well, I take it?”

A sullen pause seems to be the only answer Rouge is willing to give until he finishes his cigarettes. After brushing off a credible amount of ash away, he grumbles, ”Yes.”

“Ah, my dear, so it really would’ve never worked out between us. How could I have competed with a piss-smelling hobo living in a dirty van? But don’t fret, sweet rival of mine, I still hold a special place in my heart from our delightful fraternity days-”

“Disgusting. Awful. Should you not wait to enact psychological warfare upon me until after our ten? At least you’ll be paid for the effort,” Rouge says stiffly. He sighs, rubbing his temples. “Take me back to Respawn. I need more ammo and cigarettes.” 

Rouge hands him a blade. Bleu cackles, not minding that Rouge has somehow stolen his own butterfly knife off him. Quite talented at that, those quick hands, even amongst other spies. 

“But of course,” he says, and slits RED Spy’s throat neatly.

For a very entertaining day ahead of him, it’s the least he can do 

---

Sniper gets cornered on the way to supper after his shift. It’s Spy, who looks unusually harried. 

“Promise me,” Spy says, serious, “Promise me you will not wear that thing around your neck in public.”

Sniper almost sputters. Awfully bold of Spy to bring it up in the middle of the hallway, in public, which seems like the opposite of what he wants. That thing could only mean one item in particular. Sniper puts up his hands, hissing softly, “There's a reason why I became a sniper, spook. I like hidin’ and stayin’ out of sight. You think, of all people, that I’d be an exhibitionist?” 

He truly cannot think of a worst thing to do. It’s a hard pass, if Spy ever asks this sort of thing from him, and Sniper wonders if this is going to be some kind of boundary-setting conversation. He hopes it isn’t. Not in the middle of the hallway and not right before supper. He’ll have to take his meal up in a tree if the conversation goes poorly—he can already feel a haunting embarrassment creeping in.

“Are you?” Spy asks.

“No!”

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

Note:

RED Spy = French Canadian

BLU Spy = Cajun

Neither are European French, though they both speak it professionally. (Professional Frenchmen.)

I suppose the reason Sniper thinks he sucks at learning French (on his own) is probably because Spy is speaking French Canadian in their private moments. Ah well!

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Find the Word Tag

Tagged by @oh-no-another-idea twice and @thegreatobsesso ty! Will combine these.

Help (From Ariel's Journal)

She nods. “I do. I really do. But I’m scared. God, and any way to get rid of it, Dad would find out.” She glares at the mirror. “I can’t help but feel like if I have it… I’m just giving Dad an alternative. Michelle and I don’t want his life. But if there’s someone else… all the hope for that will land here,” touches her belly again.

Fortune Unfortunately

I leaned forward. I’d gotten a glimpse of the layout of these rooms when I’d gone through the building. The main room was what I was listening in on— kitchen, dining table, couches. The bedrooms were on either side. Jodi would be in one of them. Unfortunately for me, neither had access to the fire escape.

Circus

Clock

I switched filing cabinets, unlocking a different one. This was so easy to find I was almost surprised I’ve never thought to look for it. The folder was one of the ones that was sealed using a string wrapped around a button: Easy enough to open. I took note of how it was wound to recreate it— I wasn’t sure it was a trap, but it was something I would do, so I probably got it from him. Noted that it was clockwise, where certain kinks were, where it was twisted. Birth certificates. This must be one of the things he’d taken from Raymond and Mika’s house when we’d searched it. Mika’s was first, on top, and when I pulled them out I could stare at her name, neatly typed the line with a typewriter. Then there was Raymond’s, though it had a different name.

--

Scarf

Of freaking course. It was good for me— I could relax about what I had in front of me— but just because he had approached me didn’t mean someone else wasn’t following me. To give Raymond some credit, he was disguised— he had a hat on with the brim low, covering much of his face and hair, a dark red scarf covering part of his face, and the glasses* he usually wore were off, which did change his face considerably. 

*this is very early in the story, now I'm not sure if he wears glasses XD

Construction

I made eye contact with the man coming in. Jesse Sutton. Fuck.  My perfectly constructed kill. My security with Zachary. My well-thought-out plan, all falling apart in a moment of him deciding to come into the room. Did he know? Could I salvage it?

Hammer

White

I pressed my thumb against my palm. It had scarred, leaving a white circle for a while, but it, like others, had since disappeared. When Raymond had come into my life it was nothing more than a pale discoloration. As far as I knew, he had no idea it happened. That had been early in my training, and by the time Raymond showed up I’d fully graduated to solo missions. 

Brown

I stiffened, but that’s what I’d needed him to do. If the Judge was keeping his word… and I had to trust that he wanted Raymond’s cooperation enough to do so. And if Zachary already had, and I was still moving… that was a good sign, right? I poured the rest of the water into the press. Watched as the grounds danced with the water, already turning brown. “Good,” I said.

--

Wood

I pulled the papers out of the jacket. I couldn’t risk them being there anymore, but I’d already uncovered information on them and couldn’t bear to destroy them. I wandered around the back, looking around, then took a few steps into out neighbor’s backyard. A nice couple, empty nesters who spent much of their time either working or painting, ignorant to what went on next door. Their backyard, once a space where their kids ran and climbed around, had long since become overgrown grass. Keeping my eye on their windows, I found a crack in the wood of their back steps, and slid the papers containing Jesse’s notes through.

Dark

In the dark, in bed, I stared at the blank wall. Usually I used it to project the mental corkboard. Had the varying factors littered all over it. What everyone else would do, what I could do to slip between them, evaluating whether I’d act suspicious or put myself or Raymond in danger. But I had nothing to plan. Not really. Raymond had asked me to let him handle it, and I had to let him. So much was already unknown there. I should be asking him more questions and taking charge myself… bu I shouldn’t. I’d agreed. And I trusted him. And as much as I hated it, involving myself may only make things worse.

Ground

I got dressed and waited until he was downstairs to go to the bathroom, only heading down after. He was in the living room again, the radio on, so I had the kitchen to myself. A cup on the counter had coffee ground, already portioned out in the bottom of the cleaned coffee press. I stared at it for a second, put on edge that he’d prepared it for me, but it wasn’t completely unusual. I filled the kettle with fresh water, crushed a whisper on the stove top to activate it, and leaned against the counter as I waited for it to whistle.

Tree

This isn't a random house. Decorating the fridge facing me are photos of Raymond and Mika, along with a woman I don’t recognize but can assume was their mother, Ariel. I bite my lip staring at them— the three of them in bathing suits sitting on a dock with water behind them, a child Mika giving a sly smile to the camera while coloring with crayons at a table, a young Raymond holding up a trophy, Raymond napping with a cat curled next to him, Mika grinning at the camera and leaning against a tree…

Tagging... @sleepy-night-child @wildswrites @charlesjosephwrites @cljordan-imperium @theramwrites @autumnalwalker @blind-the-winds @akindofmagictoo @alannaofroses @emelkae and anyone else who wants to! No pressure & feel free to say i tagged you.

Your words are: glimpse, dance, suspicious, seal, & assume.

[river-of-wine]

Clothing in RDR2 is very intentional, at least when it’s relevant to the story. Arthur and Micah are good examples, having inverted colour palettes on their default outfits. Dutch’s clothes tell you a lot about him from a first glance, with the deep shades of red and ornate patterns on his waistcoat. Attention to detail is present in the clothes characters wear just like it is in every other aspect of the game, as we can see with John’s torn sleeve being repaired.

That being said, let’s take a look at Molly’s outfits!

Chapter 1 isn’t hugely important to this as Molly is dressed for survival rather than style, but it is worth taking into account! Firstly, Molly likes blue. Almost the entire outfit is a dark shade of blue with the exceptions being her scarves. Additionally, she’s wearing the same skirt she wears in chapter 2 and a very worn looking belt.

Chapter 2 is where Molly is mentally at her best, though Arthur can mention she “hasn’t been herself for a while” and the poem can still be written, showcasing the early signs of her realising who Dutch truly is. Her outfits are very similar with the exception of the top.

In the mornings, Molly will wear a quite loose fitting white shirt, her floral shawl and her straight blue skirt, which has dull gold ribbon along the bottom of it. The skirt looks quite worn, similar to her belt, as does the shawl. She wears her usual white boots, which are button up with a small heel, no jewellery and has her hair in a braid. The whole outfit is very shapeless, covering her up to the wrists and with her belt being the only thing that gives any impression of Molly’s body type. Since we know Molly comes from a somewhat wealthier background (not aristocratic as I’ve seen people say, but from money nonetheless) this is a choice Molly is making in terms of how she wants to dress rather than her making do with what she has. I have separate thoughts about exactly what kind of background Molly is from, but that’s not relevant here.

In the afternoons, Molly changes her hair and top. Her hair is loose and curled in a half up half down style, and her top, while visually very different, still covers her fully. It is black with blue and yellow stripes, along with some blue lace. There are gold buttons on the shirt, but the gold is very muted similar to the ribbon on her skirt. We can see her neck and some of her chest (though it stops before any cleavage is visible), making room for her necklace which is very simple, with the red gemstone being the main focus. This is the only instance, aside from her lipstick, in which Molly wears red during this chapter. She’s also wearing earrings, but her shawl and skirt stay the same. The waist of her top is low, again disguising her body type, and covers her arms fully. Again with Molly’s background, she is an Irish woman and is definitely religious. Covering up and concealing her body shape is definitely intentional.

Molly does not wear very eye catching clothes despite having probably been able to afford them before she joined the gang. Everything is very desaturated and muted, even the yellow and blue of her top during the afternoons is faded and put against black. She is not trying to draw anyone’s attention to her. Why would she want to? She is secure in her relationship with Dutch for the most part and doesn’t have much opinion on the men, aside from Arthur who we know she eventually feels some trust around. We are shown Molly is dressing how she likes.

Chapter 3 is where Molly and Dutch’s relationship starts to get really bad for her and her mental well-being takes a sharp decline, with the two fighting, Dutch constantly berating her for being upset and calling her delusional or crazy if she correctly points out how he is treating her, and when she sees him looking at Mary-Beth in camp. It is also where we really start to see the differences in her outfits. The heat means that Molly cannot cover up as much, but in the mornings she is dressing very similarly in terms of style. The dark blue she seems to like is still present in her shawl, belt and skirt. The lace of her shawl and buckle of her belt are gold, but again they are muted. It isn’t eye catching at all, aside from the actual colour of the lace against the dark fabric of her shawl. The skirt is has some pleats, but it is mostly straight and covers her down to the ankle. Her shirt is still white aside from the light pink dots, and it is even looser than before. Her sleeves are rolled up (the first time she has ever shown her arms) and her collar is unbuttoned, but it’s safe to assume this is just to deal with the heat. She is wearing her necklace and earrings, and her hair is braided.

This is very in line with what we know Molly likes to wear. Dark blue, loose fit, covered as much as is practical. She isn’t dressing to draw anyone’s attention or to show off, at least until the afternoons.

The difference is immediate, and almost so obvious I feel like I don’t have to say anything. Everything about her clothing has changed, from the style to the colours. Her top is a deep green and is decorated with shining gold patterns, with gold lace around the neckline to match. The top is much higher on her waist than what she wore in chapter 2, and it is fancy, very tight and low cut, showing off her neck, collarbones and most of her cleavage. This is the same woman who was covered up to her wrists in chapter 2. She is still wearing her necklace and earrings, and her hair is in its curled style again. Her skirt is a very saturated shade of red, and it is tiered with shining gold ribbon around each layer. We have never seen Molly wear anything like either of these before. These clothes also look a lot newer, especially compared to her morning outfit in chapter 2. The fabric is visibly different, the style does not feel like her own choosing, and she is suddenly standing out more in camp than she ever did and drawing attention to herself.

These clothes look newer than the rest of what she wears, and they do not look like something Molly would choose for herself. Her usual dark blue is missing, as is the presence of a shawl. Additionally, this is the first time we see Molly in such heavily patterned clothing or wearing red as a large component of her outfit.

What am I getting at here? Well, first and foremost, I do not think Molly bought these clothes for herself. It is out of her style entirely. You know who these do match though?

Dutch.

It’s been said before but Dutch’s clothes are ridiculously ornate for the life he lives. He only wears black and red as dominant colours (the back of the waistcoat he is wearing here is red in addition to multiple others he wears) and his waistcoat is patterned, accented by gold buttons, chains and a similar looking red gemstone. His holsters have a similar pattern, bringing his apparent like for fancy clothes even onto his gun belt, and his guns themselves are their own story. Also, can’t forget those gold rings of his.

Dutch wears red, Molly wears dark blue. Until chapter 3. Dutch wears patterned clothes, Molly doesn’t. Until chapter 3. Dutch wears shiny gold things, Molly doesn’t. Until chapter 3.

I’m sure you can see what I’m getting at, but I’ll say it outright. Molly’s clothes in the afternoons of chapter 3 look newer and less weathered than everything else she wears, and everything about them goes against what she previously wore. I think Dutch got them for her.

They are so much more his style than they are Molly’s, and the newer look of them as well as the differing fabric adds to this. We know that Dutch is using her, and Abigail implies the use is for sex (now is a good time to remind you that Molly says Dutch hasn’t touched her in weeks during chapter 3), so it would make sense for Dutch to choose such a low cut and tight top for Molly. Not only is the skirt reflective of his colours rather than hers, the tiered skirt is also a style other girls in camp will wear.

Looking at Molly’s unused ballgown from what was likely The Gilded Cage, a dress that (given the mission) we know Dutch would have bought for her, the similarities are immediate. The revealing cut, exposing more of her chest than she ever does herself, the red and gold jewellery, the expensive fabric, the deep green and shining gold, even the red at her waist. If Dutch could choose how to dress Molly, which he would have upon buying her this dress (it’s chapter 4 and he is at this point refusing to speak to her, I highly doubt she would have a say) it would be in these colours, these cuts, these styles. Revealing, rich and showy.

But why is Molly wearing them now?

Let’s remember the state of their relationship in chapter 3. Dutch is treating her horribly, sidelining her for everything and minimising her emotions, insulting her for being upset before she has even said anything to him (an example being “this sulking, it’s becoming very tiresome” before Molly has said a word to him), and she knows his eye is wandering. Maybe this is Molly’s last attempt to bring him back to her. To be appealing to him, to make him want her and love her again so he will talk to her, pay attention to her, look her in the eye when they speak to each other. Maybe dressing the way he likes, showing off what she is usually uncomfortable with, will fix things with them. The toll this must have taken on her confidence is immense and further impacts her mental state, which only gets worse after they move.

It doesn’t, though. During chapter 4, Molly becomes incredibly depressed, sleeping on the floor while Dutch gets a bedroom and rarely moving, only leaving the house to smoke and talk to herself, occasionally sitting in a different area of the room where she cries, or splashing her face with water from one of the buckets indoors, perhaps to make it look less like she has been crying for fear of being laughed at or to calm herself down.

Chapter 5, we only see her in her outfit from the mornings of chapter 3, but that is more important than it seems. Why? Those are the clothes Molly left camp wearing.

She chooses those over the expensive and revealing outfit, chooses comfort, her own style, her own colours, her own clothes, over the clothes that so closely reflect Dutch in all but the gender they were intended to be worn by. To me, that is what confirms this. The choice Molly makes when Dutch is in an entirely different country, far away from her and giving her the opportunity to leave. She chooses to dress like herself again, without worrying what he is going to think about it.

OOH YOU KNOW WHAT I’VE NEVER TALKED ABOUT ON HERE. MY MOLLY COSTUME ANALYSIS

[descendantofthesparrow]

Reprise 2.0 - Harry Hook x reader - Part 10 - Break this down

outfit~(Harrys is just his canon one but with sleeves rolled up to his elbow)

=

It had been eight days since your return to the Descendants world, and six days since your return to the isle of the lost. And the entire near week since; you, Uma, and Harry had been doing damage control to regain Uma’s territory that had been lost due to her absence. Harry had been able to hold onto the territories near the chip shop, but places like Goblin-town and Merchants keep had been lost to the other gangs of the isle.

But with your return, it was quick work to regain Uma’s old territory and get the isle under control for future vk transfers to Auradon. It had been hilarious to see the Gaston twins actually panic and run at the sight of you. Gil couldn’t stop laughing as Harry kissed your cheek, a cackle on your lips as you continued deeper into the isle.

You had honestly been surprised when Ursula tried to smack at Uma one day, only to get your sword through her tentacle, sending the sea witch screeching as she quickly retreated. “And here i thought she learned her lesson from last time” you muttered, sharing a sadistic grin with Harry as Uma laughed, remembering the first time you had protected her from her mother; you had used a lighter and hair spray, lighting the bitches tentacles up.

One night, about three days till Mal and Ben’s engagement party, you wondered how they, they being Ben and Mal; would go about the isle situation. You knew the barrier wouldn’t be closing, Mal had told everyone that the night you…well died, revived, and were cursed. But you wondered how they would go about the ‘barrier being destroyed’ thing, since you had a feeling Mal understood that, yeah good and evil can come from anywhere, but there is A LOT of evil on the isle. And opening the isle would only spell her doom.

You just hoped she would make a good decision for once.

Meanwhile, the crew began planning a party, one to celebrate the isle and its true leader (Uma); since they weren’t really into the engagement party across the sea being a ‘celebrate Mal’ party that was disguised as an engagement party. So everyone on the crew was ordered to find their best outfit and wear it the day of the engagement party, they would spiff the chip shop up, and just have a blast in spite of Mal.

Harry was all for it and went crazy finding outfits for the two of you. He ended up using a combo of his cleanest leather vest, an unstained white button-up, some dope-looking pants that were studded and decorated with what seemed like hundreds of fabrics and patches, and some sturdy boots that actually kinda matched yours.

For you, he raided Harriet’s closet, finding a fine red and black vest and an off-shoulder blue high-low cut dress, one of which Harriet hadn’t worn since she was 15 and your height. You could hear Harry giggle to himself as he got dressed for the party in the bathroom, leaving you alone in the main room as you zipped up the dress and put on the vest, decorating your waist with a chain belt (also borrowed from Harriet). As you slipped on your shoes, Harry emerged from the bathroom, his usually very messy eyeliner much cleaner with some added pink to his lips.

He whistled, his eyes sparkling as he walked over to you and lifted you off the bed where you were putting on your shoes, twirling you around as you laughed “So beautiful, mo Leannan” Harry whispered, and you teared up a bit at his words; mo Leannan meaning ‘my sweetheart’. You pulled back a bit, straightening out his collar and cleaning his cravat “And you look handsome as ever” you whispered back, pecking his lips and taking his hand to lead him off the ship and to the chip shop, where the party was nearly in full swing.

Uma was on her throne, hiding behind her hands as Jonas, Drey, and Gabe were doing a stupid performance for her, all singing off key and dancing about as the rest of the crew were either laughing or waiting for their turn to entertain their captain.

“make them shut up!” Uma yelled to you and Harry, cackling as Zhao, Yamato, and Gabe jumped in front of her and burst out into another off-key song. “my gods I’m gonna be pee!!! shut up!!!!!” Harry had to hide his smile in your hair, his arms wrapping around your body to pull you close as you all enjoyed the party.

“GUYS YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!” Celia suddenly screamed as she ran into the chip shop, also dressed in her best outfit for the party, and turned on the tv, moving to stand behind Uma’s throne as everyone turned their attention to Ben and Mal; both looking confident and happy.

“We have no right to tell someone, or a kingdom, who is good or evil; that choice is up to the person of whom we would condemn to,” Mal said, taking a deep breath as she looked away from the engagement party crowd and towards the isle “those of who I used to fight, and hate, and hurt relentlessly; have proven to me over and over again that-it’s not up to us to tell them if their evil, or good. That’s up to them. Not us. Who are we to make a life-defining choice for someone else? Who are we to choose whose evil? Who are we to choose whose good?”

Uma slowly stood out of her chair, her eyes wide as she stepped closer to the tv, her eyes locked onto Mal who took another deep breath. “Good and Evil, can come from anywhere, and shoving it all behind a barrier; that only gives us a false sense of security-is worthless, not when it traps so many innocent kids and teens, and even adults behind it-so-so” Mal stuttered over her words and Ben took her hand, his voice replacing her own “-so that is why, we are opening the barrier”

The crowd gasped and Uma saw the ex-king Beast step towards his son but Belle held him back, a proud smile on her lips “we won't be opening it completely, as yes, there are dangerous villains on the isle that do deserve to be there. But their kids don’t, so the barrier will be open to anyone, and I mean anyone; who wants to give themselves a chance. No transfer documents, no limo, no applications, just freedom.”

The chip shop was dead silent, quiet enough to hear a hay needle drop as the engagement party erupted into cheers, Carlos and Evie leading the applause as Mal took the wand from Fairy godmother, gesturing for her friends to join her on the balcony as Uma turned, practically running out of the chip shop to head towards the bridge plaza; Mal’s, Evie’s, Jay’s, Carlos’ and Ben’s words echoing from the tv as you left it behind to follow Uma.

‘to all who want a second chance/ your time has come, come out and dance!’

Uma came to a sudden stop as she felt a wave of magic rush through her, her body and eyes glowing for a moment; her breath shaky as she looked up at the sky, seeing the dark clouds disappear and the barrier flashing purple, blue, red, and yellow. “holy shit” Uma breathed out, Mal hadn’t just opened the barrier, she allowed magic into its walls. Before Uma could think more about that, she raced off towards the bridge, her crew at her heels along with hundreds of other isle residents.

Jafar, within his broken-down trade shop, felt that shimmer of magic and grinned, standing to take command of Agrabah with a flourish of his hand and magic; when he felt his magic sputter out as if it never existed. “what?” he muttered, holding his hand out and summoning a small cup, the metal item flying into his hand with an orange glow “what?!”

It only took a moment to realize what was going on and he cursed the traitorous daughter of Maleficent. She had indeed restored magic to the isle, but any magic with evil intent would not work. “CURSE YOU MALEFICENT!” Jafar screamed, sending Iago flying as the other villains of the isle discovered their magic would not work if they attempted to use it in hurtful ways.

That was ignored by all the vks rushing to the bridge, holding their breath as Uma walked towards the barrier, it was clearly still there, but it felt-almost nonexistent, with how the ocean breeze blew on her cheeks, the fresh ocean air filling her lungs, the magic humming through her veins. Uma took a deep breath, holding her hand out and pressing through the barrier, gasping as she stepped through with ease, the barrier shimmering around her body as she did.

“IT WORKS! WE’RE FREE!!!!” someone yelled out and the vks erupted into cheers, sobs, dancing, singing; everything that would convey their pure joy. They were free, they were finally free! A moment later, a bridge was connecting the isle and Auradon, for easy passage between the lands. Uma stood on the other side of the barrier, completely frozen in shock, Mal did it, she actually did it; she kept her promise-and then some.

Mal actually came through.

“Damn” Uma muttered, feeling tears trail down her cheeks as you, Harry, Gil, Harriet, and CJ ran through the barrier to stand with her, CJ running and jumping about with cackles bursting out her mouth, Gil laughing with her as he picked Uma up and held her tight, you and Harry eagerly joining in on the hug as Harriet took in the true ocean for the very first time. “We did it!!” Gil yelled, and if Uma wasn’t so out of it, she would’ve flinched and winced, but she could only stare out into the sea, slowly drawing her gaze back towards Auradon.

“We did it” she whispered, slowly being set down, her hands being held by you and Harry “we did it” you shared a smile with Harry and tossed your free arm around Uma’s shoulder, hugging her tight “Your plan.” you muttered, giggling as Uma took a deep breath, shaking her head before grinning at you.

“My plan” Uma repeated, voice proud and full of confidence. She did it, Mal did it, they did it. The isle was free, the vks were free, and every single kid that wanted to could leave the isle. Mal came through with her deal. Uma laughed, spinning around on her heel as you, Harry, Gil, CJ, and Harriet danced around with her.

Soon enough you could hear music play in the back of your head, and you grinned, throwing your arms around Uma and hugging her tight, resting your chin on her shoulder as Mal started off the finale.

Mal; It’s time to bring it together Time for a brand-new start ♪

Uma looked across to Auradon, a smile growing on her face as she heard Mal sing. She held your hands tightly, tilting her head into yours as she sang back.

Uma; We gonna put it in motion Break down what keeps us apart ♪

The beat started to pick up, and you kissed Uma’s cheek before backing up into Harry’s arms, giggling as he wrapped his arms around you, rocking you back and forth as other isle kids joined you on the bridge.

Mal; No more, no division we down New team, got the vision Mal/Uma; Unite! Uma; till we stand, now we livin’ marchin! In the light, one, two; one, two like- Mal; I see you! Uma; you see me Mal; imperfect- Uma; perfectly! Uma/Mal; face to face, we can see clearly our similarities like~!♪

You had to admit it was a bit odd watching Uma sing with someone that was across the bridge but you pushed that thought into the back of your mind as Harry kissed your cheek and started to lead you to stand beside Uma with Celia and Gil, humming as the song met its first pre-chorus.

Uma; Day and night! Mal; wrong or right! Uma/Mal: we come together for a good time~!♪

Uma turned, her smile getting bigger as she saw you and Harry, turning and taking your hand as Celia ducked under Uma’s free hand, Gil just looking back at the isle kids with that sunshine smile of his as you all joined into the song. All; We’re gonna break, this, down. We’re gonna rock, the, town. Everyone all-a-round~ let’s be whoever like this, stronger together like this!! ♪

Uma laughed, spinning around once more to find Mad Maddy staring out towards Auradon, just behind the barrier wall. Uma grinned, stepping forward and taking Maddy’s hand, easily pulling her through the barrier to Maddy’s shock.

Uma; believing in second chances~!!♪

Celia laughed at Maddy’s face, grabbing her dad's hand and pulling him through the barrier, Facilier smiling down at his daughter, ready to give her a proper life in Auradon.

Celia; and we’re all starting today~!♪

You laughed loudly as Harry took your hand and spun you, pulling you into his side as you, Uma, Gil, and Harry took the front to lead the vks and reformed villains into Auradon as Celia stayed back with her dad, holding his hand the entire time.

Harry; Marchin’ on in a new land~! Uma/Harry; our worlds a better, a better place! ♪

You all began to march, the Auradon people doing the same to meet you in the middle. Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos lead the way, being the first four vks and able to finally bridge the gap between the vks and Auradon.

Evie; Welcome the additional love! Carlos; Unity new beginning for us! Jay; Harmony that’s the mission marching! All; in the light one, two; one, two like- I see you, you see me, imperfect; perfectly. Face to face we can see clearly our similarities like!♪

Harry did a goofy little pose with Carlos, the former laughing as Harry held his hands out dramatically and kneeled as he marched, his face forming into an odd pout. You snorted at his face and grinned at Evie, winking at her as she waved both hands at you.

Core four; Day and night~! Sea four: Wrong or right~! All; we come together for a good time~!♪

You all met in the middle, your energy bursting and rebounding off each other and exploding into a dance. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dance across from Evie, the princess giggling as she heard you.

All; we’re gonna break, this, down! We’re gonna rock, the, town! Everyone all-a-round! Just be whoever like this! Stronger together like this! We reunited like this!♪

Harry grabbed your hand as everyone raced to the Auradon end of the bridge, Harry flipping his head back as you reached the arch, everyone clapping their hands to begin the bridge.

All; Bringing it, bringing it, b-b-b-bringing it down Bringing it, bringing it, b-b-b-bringing it down Bringing it, bringing it, b-b-b-bringing it down Bringing it, bringing it, b-b-b-bringing it down Mal; down~!♪

The core four and Auradon-born kids all ran back into the Auradon bridge plaza, the vks and you staying back below the arch, all watching Ben and Mal to make sure it wasn’t a trick. Ben and Mal smiled, bowing to the isle kids, the rest behind them bowing in turn, even Chad. Uma laughed, tilting her head at Mal who beamed back, turning to the vks and waving her arm forward. The vks cheered, flowing into the plaza as Harry took your hand again, raising his brows at Ben who smiled at him, Uma and Mal clasping hands for a split moment to show that they were on good terms again.

You ended up between Harry and Uma, your cheeks flushed as Harry twirled you around into a crouch, both of your hands held by the pirates. Uma just laughed at your flushed face spinning around again as the crowd did another wave.

This positioning continued as Harry and Uma danced with you, your dress flaring as they took your hands and led you around to match the others, unable to keep the smile off your face as you danced.

All; We’re gonna break this down. Evie; break this down♪ All; We’re gonna rock the town. Uma; oh, we’re gonna rock this town♪ All; Everyone all around. you; oh, around~♪ All; Just be whoever like this. Evie; come on!♪

You and Uma laughed as Harry dramatically bowed to the both of you, that classic Harry grin on his lips as you bowed back, taking his hands as he held them out and he kissed your knuckles before launching back into the dance. All; Stronger together like this. Uma; uh♪ All; We be united like this We’re gonna break this down Mal; come on! We’re gonna break this down All; We’re gonna rock the town. you; come on, everybody on the isle gonna like this♪ All; Everyone all around. Evie; oh, around~♪ All; Just be whoever like this All; Stronger together like this. Uma; stronger together like this~♪ All; We reunited like this. you; hey!♪   All; Bringing it, bringing it, b-b-bringing it down♪

It was silent for a moment, as if it just truly settled in that; the barrier was open, open for anyone who didn’t want to cause harm to anyone in Auradon or to Auradon. The vks were free, the isle was free. Soon cheers and laughter erupted in the plaza, the vks and aks all blending together as Mal stared off at the isle, seeing a huge crowd walking down the bridge toward Auradon.

“I did it” Mal whispered to herself, taking a deep breath “fuck you mom” with that she burst out into laughter, imagining her mother screaming curses at her for Mal doing exactly what she wanted; to bring down the barrier, Mal just did it in a way Maleficent would’ve hated.

And Mal was perfectly fine with that, it meant Auradon was safe, the isle kids/the innocents of the isle were free, and Mal had duped her mom one last time. A happy ending. She felt Ben’s arms wrap around her and she came back to her senses, gasping as she felt herself be picked up and spun around, giggling as Ben set her down and kissed her softly “you’re going to make a great queen” he whispered and Mal felt her eyes burn with tears, taking Ben’s face and shrugging “I think I’ll need to take a few leading classes from Uma, and then I’ll be a good queen” Mal said with a slightly teasing tone, squealing as Ben picked her up again and carried her into the party that had commenced thanks to the vks blasting some music from the speakers after commandeering the DJ booth.

You and Harry watched from the sidelines, laughing as Uma was pulled into a small dance circle by the crew, she and Mad Maddy busting it down as the party cheered them on. “Uncle Harry, aunt (y/n)!!” you turned, seeing the smee twins pulling away from Dizzy and racing toward you, both nearly crying.

“Me smee’s~!” Harry called back, kneeling to catch Skipper as he slammed into Harry’s chest, your arms wrapping around Sterling's shoulders as he hugged your waist “Boys~ we missed you.” you cooed, rubbing Sterling's curly blonde hair, looking up to see a particular first mate walking through the Auradon archway “hey, look who’s here~” the boys turned, gasping as they saw their dad and big brother, the two looking around for the twins.

“DAD, SAMMY!” the twins yelled, racing toward their dad and brother and almost sending Smee to the floor, Mr. Smee’s smile was as bright as his cheeks as the twins dragged him and Sammy into the party; Harriet and CJ welcomed the first mate’s with cheers. You heard Dizzy squeal as she raced to meet her mom, aunt, and cousins, her grandmother nowhere in sight. Chad looked a bit pale at seeing them, slightly hiding behind Audrey who rolled her eyes and pushed him towards Dizzy, laughing as he scrambled to get back behind her.

You felt Harry’s arms wrap around your shoulders as you watched Celia dance around with her dad, which made you smile before you perked up at the sight of Hades standing under the archway, Persephone appearing beside him a moment later, smiling up at her husband.

She pushed him towards Mal, giving him an encouraging look. The god took a deep breath, clearing his throat as Mal turned to him; very surprised. He muttered a few words, leaning closer to Mal to make sure she heard him; you could barely hear them but when the music dipped for a moment to switch to the next song you heard the last end of it.

‘And I hope maybe one day, you can accept me as your dad’

After a long moment of Mal and Hades having a staring contest, with Persephone and Ben looking very nervous, Mal sniffed and leaped into her father's arms, sobbing as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her, a soft smile growing on his face. Your attention was ripped away from them as Harry's cheek pressed into yours, you could feel his smile and his laughter, giggling as he turned to kiss your cheek. “Let’s party darlin’, before our time is up” he whispered, and you were too caught up in the emotions of the crowd to care that you were going back home in just a day-maybe less.

All; We’re gonna break this down. Evie; break this down ♪ All; We’re gonna rock the town. Uma; oh, we’re gonna rock this town ♪All; Everyone all around! (y/n); oh, around ♪

As you joined the crowd, Harry pulled you back into his arms, dipping you slightly as he kissed you deeply. You hummed into the kiss, cupping his cheek and jaw as you heard wolf whistles from all around, Jay clapping his hand on Harry’s back as he and Gil went off to dance with Carlos and Jane. Soon enough the party was called to move into the gardens behind the plaza, where lunch was being served and was ready to house the hundreds of guests now present.

All; Just be whoever like this. Evie; come on! ♪ All; Stronger together like this. Uma; uh~♪ All; We be united like this ♪

The crowd split, the core four being the first to walk through the balcony arch, all holding hands as Ben, Audrey, Doug, Chad, and Jane followed after them. Harry took your hand and spun you into position, kissing your cheek as you settled into his side, you held your arm out to Uma, holding your head up as she laughed and took your arm, Gil and Celia strutting their way down the mock-runway.

You looked up at Harry, laughing as he kissed you again, his arm sliding to rest on the small of your back, leading you into Auradon as the isle and Auradon kids followed behind.

All; Bringing it, bringing it, b-b-bringing it down ♪

-end of part 10-

WOOOO this took a minute for me to write eh? But im happy with how it turned out~ hope yall liked the new bridge scene/edited break this down, I don’t write dance scenes so forgive me if it sucks lol, anyways, the Epilogue/start of Encore revise coming soon after I work on commissions~!! also just realized break this down is the only song i used in this version of reprise XD cuz knight falls in turned into a full just words action scene, and one kiss i used a few lines and then ignored the rest XD

permtaglist!!!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @rintheemolion

@random-thoughts-003 @verboetoperee​ @dai-tsukki-desu​

@imtryingthisout​ @remembered-license​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​

 taglist!!!

@auradon-bore-a-don​ @dpaccione​ @reallysparklychaos​

@dreamtogether2000​ @thetrueghostqueen​ @godess-ofthe-underworld​

@omgsuperstarg​

[endeaavorr]

[18.23]

the third vibrate from your phone successfully prodded your eyes to wake. your left arm numb from the way you accidentally slept on it hurriedly reaches out to put your phone on silent, not wanting to wake him up. ah yes, him. you look at the dimmed screen of your phone, 5.00 am 8th of August.

your heart warms at the sight. you lean back to the mattress facing up, trying to stretch your body properly before starting up the day. you turn your head to the left and see his sleeping figure. the slow rise of his chest, the slight part of his lips, and the nasty scar, as shoto calls it, settling happily across the side of his face.

you don’t usually get to see this side of him, either because he doesn’t come home that night from work, or you’re too tired to pay attention, or the two of you passed out right after doing it. so you hit the snooze button once more and studies his face, your right hand now softly leaning on his broad chest, neat fingers tracing the outlines of his never aging face.

but the morning haze soon is replaced by your default mode. pulling enji’s cover to his chin to keep him warm, you get up to start preparing breakfast, you wanted to make it extra special for today.

for the last month the two of you has been, how do you say it, distant. you were taking extra shifts at your agency to afford this watch you wanted to give him on his birthday. even so, since you can’t tell him why he’s starting to come home to a cold empty house, it’s been quiet and rather uncomfortably awkward. you kinda feel bad in a way, so you’re determined to make today work.

you were so drowned in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize enji already woke up and finished his morning run.

“good morning, papa.” you greet him with your usual kind eyes.

“morning,”

he’s fresh out of the shower, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a lounge short, a small towel sitting on his damp hair. he sits on the tatami while you plate breakfast for the two of you. the air is dry and suddenly even the tatami is not that comfortable.

breakfast was quiet, it has always been quiet. but not like this, it’s normally filled with you clinging to his arm and playfully sneak your head under his arms right above his folded feet, facing him with a half closed sleepy smile.

you steal glances at him but he’s always looking down. just when you have the courage to break the silence, he says i enjoyed the food, and puts his dish in the sink.

“i’m staying out tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

you were only able to muster a ‘good luck at work, papa!’ before he’s gone again.

it’s 5pm. you just got home from enji’s agency, dropping of a set of suit you picked up from the launderer. reservation is at 8pm, you have three hours to call him about it and get ready yourself.

“hello,”

“ah papa ! are you busy now ?”

“yeah, i thought i told you this morning.”

it’s a lie, you asked his assistant and his schedule is empty from 5pm above.

“well, not according to your assistant apparently.”

it’s silent.

“well, i just dropped off something for you at the receptionist ! make sure to wear them, dinner’s at ___ at 8pm under my name, i’ll see you there papa ! i love you!”

“wait—“

you leaned to the wall behind you and press your phone to your chest in a relieved sigh. really, you’ve been living together literally your whole life, how are you still nervous like a preteen talking to their first crush ?

you shake your head mentally and start to get ready. in the mean time.. enji is dumbfounded. he’s just confused and the receptionists are grinning knowingly, which makes him even more, confused. good thing his office has a shower and a spare room though.

it’s 7pm. you apply some final touches of light make up. the two light honks from outside signals that your driver is here, ready to take you. the restaurant is pretty close from enji’s office, but it takes a good 25 min walk from the todoroki residence and you don’t wanna ruin your hair.

you get up and look at yourself in the mirror, you’re wearing a black designer dress that exposes your shoulders with a small purse on the right of your hand. you’re ready to go.

8 pm.

“ah, endeavor-san, how can i help you tonight ?”

the hostess welcomes enji with a polite smile.

“i have a reservation under my daughter’s name, todoroki y/n.”

“right this way, sir.”

enji follows the hostess to a more secluded table from the others, he notices it’s way quieter than the main dining hall, the view next to both of the seats are the wide view of city lights. the waiter serving them tonight introduces himself and hands him the menu, while pouring water from a sealed glass bottle to enji’s glass. he looks through some pages but then decided to just wait for you to order.

you arrive no later than five minutes after he did, welcomed by the same hostess, and immediately taken to your table.

“you look good, papa.”

“you too,”

he takes his time to scan over you, your neatly styled hair, your set of greenish ocean eyes that matches his, the scar on your left cheek that you wear proudly, and lastly the way he realizes again just how breathtaking you are.

on the other side, you feel your heart flutter. he looks really good. the slightly opened white shirt, the perfectly tailored navy suit, emphasizing his strong arms that has saved way too many lives, too many times.

enji was too busy staring at you he didn’t even bother taking a look at his menu. and by the time the waiter was ready to take his order, he just went with the classic i’ll have one of what she’s having.

“how’s your day, papa?” you started the conversation.

“it’s normal, busy.”

you place your right hand on top of his, thumb gently rubbing comforting strokes on his palm.

“i missed you, you know.”

“well, you’re the one who’s been away so much.”

you’re honestly a bit startled at his bluntness, he usually won’t do things like this. you get a bit shy and shifts your gaze from his to where your palms are lightly entangled.

“i’m sorry papa, i can’t help it, i needed extra shifts.”

“for what ? is it about money ? you know you can always ask me, right ? i don’t mind providing for you for the rest of my life as long as i get to come home to you, and not just a cold dead hall.”

you’re out of words, his brows is contorted, and the glint in his eyes shows something you guessed to be dissapointment ? guilt ?

“i’m sorry,” you say again, hands shyly squeezing his and the other toying with the ends of your skirt. your heart still goes on a marathon when it comes to him.

the dinner was nice, it’s slow paced and calm, just like how he likes it. the little tense you two had is now slowly melting away. opting to take a walk home instead, you walk hand in hand under the generous light of the moon.

enji took off his suit halfway and put it around you, keeping his right hand in his pocket while his other is entangled with your much smaller one. his shirt has now one more button open, sleeves rolled neatly three times as they rest proper on half of his arm.

you can’t stop smiling, butterflies going crazy in your stomach like a lovesick fool, that you maybe are. you don’t know if it’s from the wine, but he’s way more talkative right now, you’re making jokes here and there, laughing to yourself while gripping his hand tighter and hugging his arms with your other hand. he’s laughing a little too, not that he doesn’t appreciate it, that’s just how he is.

you’re waiting to cross the road at the last junction before you reach your home, the road is clean empty but the light is still red. the both of you don’t mind, he takes this chance to pull you tighter against him and breathe the always comforting natural scent of your hair.

your solace is interrupted by the ding of the crossing light turning green, but enji doesn’t let go, so you start walking slowly like that, pressed against each other, steps getting tangled making it hard to walk. the things you do for love.

it’s 11 pm.

he goes in first while you lock the front door and make sure all the lamps in the yard are on. he sits down and starts to take off his shoe, you quickly slipped of your heels and crouched between his legs to do it for him instead. your short dress riding up, displaying your already exposed milky thighs in its glory.

you can tell where he’s looking and feel the twitch of your insides from the yearning you’ve been holding back. he reaches out his right hand to caress your cheek. you lean to his rough hands and give him a faint smile before you push your body towards his in attempt of pinning him down, disguised by an innocent hug. your head resting on his chest while he supports himself with one arm and holds you back with the other. he face touches the bare skin of your neck and finds comfort there. pressing kisses that quickly turned wet.

you lift up your head and pulled his supporting hand towards you, making sure he’s fully laid on the wooden floor, arms caging his head, hazy eyes looking down on his meaningful orbs. it’s not long before you crash your lips together in a desperate kiss, your spit drooling down his chin, his stubble grazing the smooth well cared surface of your face.

you sit down on his crotch and he abruptly breaks the kiss with a groan, but you’re quick to grab his face and pull him in an even more passionate open mouthed kiss, his hands find the swell of your ass and guide them so you’re now grinding on his growing bulge too.

the mutual need to breathe forces both of you to break the kiss. foreheads now touching together, heavy ragged breath mixing, the intimacy making you dizzy. but the high wears off sooner than you thought and you can’t help but hide your reddened face to his neck, not wanting him to see you blush, hands clutching him tight as he sits back up holding you properly.

“let’s go take a bath, i’m sweaty.”

you can only offer a weak nod, still too embarrassed of what you just did. he hoists you up to his shoulder and carries you to the bathroom.

it’s so warm. you’re sitting between his legs leaning to him, his strong arms on your stomach protectively, body radiating comforting warmth to yours, making the both of you completely relaxed.

you almost let yourself fall asleep if not that you remember about his gift. so you get up first, telling him to enjoy the bath a little longer and go sprint to your room.

you quickly dried your hair and put on a set of babydoll you’ve been keeping for this day. it’s a simple white see through babydoll with soft lace that hangs prettily on your supple thighs. you put on your sleep robe and go to his room with a deep green paperbag on your right hand.

it’s 11.30 pm.

the futon is laid and you’re sitting above it on your knees, your gift hidden behind your figure.

enji comes out of the bathroom already in his sleepwear, a black set of loose shirt and a matching pants. his hands are still busy trying to dry his own hair until he looks up at the sight of you and pauses.

you pat the spot next to you, signaling him to sit there. he walks up to you and sit crossed legged in front of you. he can see the rather big paperbag behind you but decided not to say anything.

“what is it ?”

you opened your mouth in attempt to answer him but was left with nothing, so you just shoved the paperbag and places it in on the little space between the two of you, encouraging him to open it. he’s still not getting it and looks at you with genuinely asking eyes, but you’re too stubborn to meet his eyes and just keep looking at the walls to your right, peach blush already forming again.

“it’s for you,” you brave yourself to look at him in the eyes and finally say it, “happy birthday, papa.”

enji felt like his brain short circuited. but you ushered him to open your gift before he could say anything. you watch as his big hands fully envelop the big green box inside, the one your clumsy hands almost dropped.

he opend the box and stares at it for a while. it’s a platinum rolex day-date 40 from it’s 2021 men collection.

“this is expensive,” was the first respond he let out.

“we-well, that’s why i’d been taking extra shifts,” you sheepishly rub the back of your head. enji’s strong gaze didn’t waver.

“you didn’t have to—“

“but i want to !” you cut him,

“it’s just—“

you grab the pillow behind you and hide your face in it, finding it hard to speak to him eye to eye like this. “i love you, and sometimes i can’t help my feelings, i just thought, this is what people do to their loved ones.. you know,” you explain in a voice growing smaller than before, almost completely muffled by the pillow.

he lets out a sigh before repacking his gift, putting it back inside the paperbag and placing it on his side. you’re getting nervous.. is he mad ? did he not like it ? were you pushing it ?

all your silent doubt dies down as he pulled you close to his chest.

“i love you too, thank you.”

his voice runs beautifully through your ear, the sensation going straight to your heart. you ease up and holds him back.

“um, papa,”

“hn”

“i still have another gift,”

he pulls back and looks at you with a raised brow. you better not have unnecessarily give up you rest just to buy him a ‘gift’, it translates. both your hands come out in front of you in a waving motion to dismiss his half true accusation, but you struggled so much trying to pull out the right words.. you just let out a bashful sigh and unties the knot in front of your outer, before letting the dense fabric hit the floor, revealing the pretty babydoll sitting pretty and proper accentuating your pretty pretty curves.

he stills.

“do-does it look weird..?”

he scans over you for a while but your embarrassment made you thought he was looking at you in a weird way.

your cheeks are heating up, eyes glued to your thighs before you hear a rustle and suddenly your back is against the futon with one arm pinned above your head by his weight, and your other one is in his, you look at you favorite set of eyes that matches yours and the blue sky, he presses your hand to the side of is face and land a deep kiss on the innerside of your wrist, leaning against it while staring back at you.

it was a good birthday.

happy birthday todoroki enji, 8.8.21

[tommydarlings]

I Can't Help Falling In Love With You | t.h

A/N: Okay, wow. Tbh, I'm really proud of this and I hope you like it as much as I do! :) (when this flops, then I'm gonna slide down the suislide :D) anyway, enjoy! :) ily,liz <3

pairing: mob!tom x mob!reader

warnings: smut (fem + male receiving) swearing, unprotected sex, daddy-kink, blowjob, choking, violent actions

w/c: 5.1k (omg)

Requests: CLOSED

Summary: The leader of the London Mafia is the devil in person and you would do everything you can to end him, wouldn't you?

masterlist || taglist || requests ( in my masterlist)

"I'm not gonna talk to him father!" I yelled at my dad.

"Why?! It's strictly about business anyway!" he yelled back at me. "I'm sorry father, but I'm not gonna talk to the devil in disguise" i said in a slightly calmer voice. "It's just for a few minutes and it's strictly about the mob, okay? He won't hurt you or something" my dad answerd. After a while of thinking about it, I agreed.

"Just for a few minutes and not more" i said quietly.

"yes, thank you y/n" i just nodded with my head before I made my way into the huge conference room where the devil should be.

I hate this man. I could kill him. The problem is… he could kill me too… in seconds.

Thomas Stanley motherfucking Holland.

And now I should go to him and try to make a deal with him, that's gonna be fun. Probably we can't even start to talk about the deal because we're just gonna argue. Like usual.

I opened the door and didn't even looked up to look if he was here yet-

"Well hello darling"

Fuck.

"Hello Thomas" I said with a fake smile.

"I already told that you can call me Tom babygirl" he said.

"And I already told you that you should stop calling me these nicknames because I don't like them" I told him. "Well guess what baby, I don't give a single shit about it" he said with a wide smile.

I just scoffed and shook my head before I sat down on one of the chairs in the room. Tom sat down on the chair at the exact opposite of me.

"So, let's talk about the deal, okay?"

"Okay" Tom nodded.

---

1 week later, after we finally finished the deal, I could relax and went into the library in our mansion. Most of the time I don't even have time to read, but when I got time then I use it and read a few pages of my favorite books. It's something that kinda brings me back into the real world and calms me down quickly. So I don't want to get disturbed.

But of course something- no, someone had to disturb me.

"Hello darling" thomas said as he entered the library with both of his hands in the pockets of his black coat.

"What do you want Holland" I spat back angrily.

"Honestly? You"

I was frozen for a second. It's not that I like him or anything, like i already said, I absolutely hate this man, but he is attractive, i can't deny that. No women can deny that.

"Cat caught your tongue babydoll?" he whispered quietly in my ear from behind. Of course I had to stay infront of the bookshelf with my back to him right now.

"Hmm?" he said in my ear again while I was still pretty frozen.

"get the fuck out of my way Tom" I said with a slightly nervous voice. Suddenly he put both of his arms on my shoulders and slowly traced his fingertips down my arms. I literally started to shiver as he said that,

"pretty little thing" he whisper right in my ear and left a gently peck on the side of my neck. Then he put both of his hands in mine and slowly rubbed this thumb over my hand.

And I let him. I fucking let him.

"I know that you like it baby, I know it" he whispered in the back of my neck before he started to leave kisses at the side of my neck. He was so gentle and soft. His lips were so warm and they felt so fucking good, wait what-

"Okay, stop" I said as I turned around and pushed him away.

"That's sad, it looked like you really enjoyed it darling" he said while he slowly approached me again. As he took the first step forward, I took one backwards but then I remembered that my back is already against the shelf.

Well fuck.

As he stood infront of me, he put both of his hands next to my head and leaned really close. Our noses were nearly touching.

"You don't have to lie to me princess, you know? And when you really wanna test me, then I dare you to do that, we both know that I'm gonna win babydoll" he whispered quietly while he looked me deep in the eyes.

"You may be a Holland, but don't forget that I'm a y/l/n honey" I told him while I held eye contact.

"Cause you exactly know what I'm capable of, you already saw me fighting and taking your men down easily" I added.

"And you exactly know what I'm capable of babygirl"

"Oh please, you are just as weak as your men are Holland" I said with a quick laugh.

"I'm not talking about fighting love" he said with a tiny smirk.

"About what then champ?" I said with a little smile on my face.

"You know what I'm the best at?" he said as he slowly leaned closer so his mouth was hovering over my ear.

"What" I asked before I rolled my eyes.

"Punishments" he whispered.

And as soon as he said that my smile faded and I was frozen… again.

"I knew you would be quiet as soon as I said that. Have you ever got punished before? You know like, did you ever got a few good spanks and a few edges-"

"shut up Thomas" I spat quietly at him.

"You get turned on from the thought of me spanking you and edging you until you beg me to stop, don't you?"

"I-I, n-no i-I don't" I stuttered.

"Don't lie to me princess" he said while he looked me in my eyes again.

"I don't" I said while I looked down at my feet. "Can you say that while you look me in the eyes?" he asked.

I looked him in the eyes, but I couldn't get a single word out.

"That's what I thought" he said before he put both of his hands back in his pockets again and went to the door.

"Where a-are you g-going?" Why did I asked that?!

"I'm gonna go back to work, if you need someone that makes you scream and cry at same time, and I don't mean that in a painful way, then you know where I am" he said before he opened the door and left.

"God please help me" I quietly prayed before I left the library too and went to the gym.

---

"Tom, let me through" I said in a pretty calm voice.

"No" he answered with a tiny smirk.

"Thomas please! I have to be in the meeting like, right now!" I raised my voice at him.

"And?" he asked while he looked down at me. Sadly I'm shorter than him. "And?! When my dad finds out that you are keeping me up here then you. are. dead, holland." he lightly chuckled before he spoke up,

"That would be a shame wouldn't it?" he said with a wide grin while slowly raced his hand and stroked my cheek with his knuckles. "Tom stop" I told him angrily. "You are so sweet when you're angry, you know?"

"Fuck. off" I whispered while I looked him deep in the eyes. That was the last thing i said to him before I pushed him angrily away and stormed through the door.

"Where the fuck where you y/n?" my dad asked with a slightly aggressive voice. I didn't knew which kind of lie I should tell him, so I told him the truth.

"Tom distracted me" I said while I took a seat. "Tom Holland?" he said while he looked at me. "Of course the holland boy dad, who else?" I spat. "Not in that tone young lady" he spat back angrily before he sat down in his own chair and scoffed before he started to talk about some mob business shit while I held back my tears.

It's not that I hate this life, or the mob, it's just that I would love when someone would give me some love.

---

"Thomas, I already told you that it was a mistake" I yelled at him. "But this mistake could have killed you" he yelled back at me. I looked him deep in the eyes before I quietly said,

"Why do you even care?"

He just stared at me with an open mouth and slightly wide eyes. He looked at me like he just got caught stealing something. "I-I don't care about you or anything, i-i could have been dead too, a-and w-when you would have been i-in trouble, t-then I wouldn't have hesitate to save MY ass"

Slowly, a smile made it's way to my face before I spoke up again,

"You're lying" I whispered.

"I d-don't lie'' he said quietly. "You do, because every time when you lie, you stutter thomas" he slowly approached me. Probably a habit of him. As he stood right infront of me, he looked me right into the eyes. He basically looked me right into the soul before he said,

"I didn't lied and I don't care about you. When you would get killed, then I would stand next to your corpse and would be sad that I didn't killed you" he slowly said.

And as he said that, I just thought one thing,

Don't fucking cry now y/n, you already know that nobody loves you.

I exactly knew that he hates me, just like I hate him, but I would have never said something that cruel to him. But of course I couldn't stop the tears they were threatening to spill. I looked down at my feet before I quickly wiped the tear away.

"Are you cryi-"

"I hate you" I said before he could finish his sentence. The last thing I saw before I stormed out of the big conference room, was a guilty look painted on Tom's face.

---

I sat silently in my bedroom and thought about a few things,

'I can't', 'I can't fucking like him', 'I can't fucking love him', 'It's impossible'. I thought the entire time. We are enemies since the second we saw each other. We hate each other. We have to, we don't have another option. Why am I even thinking about that? He hates me and I should hate him. But I can't. It's not that I adore this man and would do anything for him, I would just sacrifice my life for him-

Fuck.

I'm head over heels for him.

Suddenly someone knocked on my door.

"Come in" I said. Suddenly Tom came in, wearing a tight white button up shirt and dark blue dress pants. He looked so unbelievably hot but at the same time he was my enemy. I thought about his messy hair and rosy cheeks and red lips, they look so fucking soft, I would love to kiss them and touch his body-

"You good y/n?" he asked as he sat down next to me on the bed. And of course he had to spread his legs and fold his hands.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine" I answered quickly. God I'm so done.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier, so… I'm sorry"

Did he just seriously apologized? Wow.

"It's okay, you were right" I said with a tiny but sad laugh. "You were right" he suddenly said. "What do you mean?" I said while I looked at him. Tom got up and stood now infront me.

"I do care about you"

"What?"

"You were right, I lied. I really care about y/n, and I'm sorry that I treated you that way"

"Seriously?" I got up now too and stood right infront of him. He just nodded quickly before he said,

"yes, uhm, that's it, I'm gonna go now, by dollface" he said with a tiny smirk before he left the room.

"fuck off" I laughed while I made my way downstairs.

---

"I hate work" I quietly whispered to myself while I buried my head in my hands desperately. Suddenly the door opened and Tom walked in. "Get out of here" he said without any sign of kindness. "What?" I asked with a laugh. "I think you heard me princess, out. of. here" I stood up from my chair and scoffed before I walked over to him.

"No" I said with a tiny grin.

"No?, darling I'm in charge here, okay?, so you're gonna walk out of this room and let me do my work that I have to do, alright?" he said pretty seriously. I shaked my head with a smile painted on my face. "I don't wanna drag out of the room y/n, c'mon" he said with a hint of anger in his voice but I shaked my head and he scoffed. "Why can't you just listen for once." Out of nowhere he grabbed my throat and pressed me against the wall behind me. "You're gonna listen to me" he whispered before he went on,

"When I tell you to do something, then your gonna do it, don't you?" he asked while he looked at me. That went right to my pussy.

"And what are you gonna do when I don't want to do what you say?" of course y/n y/l/n tried to push his buttons. "Then it's gonna get a big big mess babygirl" he smiled. He fucking smiled.

"A bloody mess?" I asked with a grin. "No, no, not a bloody mess but a wet mess" he whispered.

"fuck you" I whispered. "oh yes, I'm gonna do that" he said before he crashed his lips on mine harshly. He put both of his hands on my cheeks while I opened his button up shirt and pulled it off of his body. Just a few seconds later he pulled my shirt off and threw it to the side. "You're eager, aren't you?" I asked while he put his pants off. God his body is a masterpiece.

"Shut up" he said while I put my pants and bra off. "Make me" I said. He looked me in the eyes with a tiny smirk before he picked me up and laid me down onto the table. He went down on his knees infront of me and pulled my panties down my legs before he started to give tiny kitten licks to my already wet pussy.

"Fuuuuck" I whispered before he started to really eat me out. "Fuck daddy" I cried out. "Say that again" Tom said before he sucked on my clit and flicked his tongue over it afterwards. "Oh my God, please daddy" I cried out even louder. He flicked my clit with the tip of his tongue so fast and good that I came quickly.

"FUCK, your gonna make me cum" I said quietly while I arched my back. But after he made me cum, he didn't stopped. He went on with flicking the tip of his tongue quickly over my sensitive clit. I started to wiggle away from him but he grabbed my legs and put me back in place again. "Shh, just a little bit more" he whispered. Suddenly he spit right on my pussy and collected the spit with two fingers before he shoved his wet fingers into my pussy. "Oh my g-god, please" I stuttered out.

He started to pump his finger faster and faster and after a few seconds he found the spot that made me go crazy. "Ahhh fuck daddy please, please, please" I screamed.

"Come for me doll, come for daddy" he said while he looked me in the eyes. You heard right. He looked me in the eyes while he ate. me. out.

"FUCK" I yelled as I came for the second time on his tongue and fingers. After he cleaned me up, he stood up and looked at me.

"You're gonna be a good girl and take my cock?" he asked. "Yes Daddy" I answered back quietly. "Good girl" he whispered in my ear before he pulled his boxer down and started to enter me. "oh fuck" I quickly cursed before he started to ram into me mercilessly.

"So fucking tight, such a good girl, just for me, right?" I just nodded with my head before my eyes rolled into the back of my head quickly. Suddenly he put his hand on my throat again and lightly choked me. And fuck was that good.

"Feels so good d-daddy" I whispered. He put the thumb of his other hand on my clit and started to rub it quickly.

"OH MY GOD" I cried out really loud. "Take it, take it, take it" tom spat quietly. "I'm gonna cum daddy" I told him. He went even faster, with his cock and his thumb. And then my orgasm washed me while I screamed as loud as I could while tears were running down my cheeks.Tom shut his eyes tightly and let out a tiny 'fuck' after he came. But I couldn't even notice more before I blacked out.

---

I woke up in my bed, but I could remember exactly what happened yesterday in the conference room. The worst thing is, I still like, no, love this man. How? I honestly don't know. He just makes me… weak.

I threw my work clothes on and went downstairs into the conference room to see if my father was there but the only person that was in the room was the one and only Tom of course.

"Oh, hello darling" he said politely.

"Hello?" I said but it kinda sounded more like a question. "Are you okay?" he asked me. I just nodded with my head before I made my way to the door again but Tom's hand on my wrist stopped me immediately. "Can we talk?" he suddenly said pretty shy. I just nodded again while I turned around to face him and leaned back against the door. "What's up" I said. What the fuck y/n?! Why would you say 'what's up'? You exactly know what happened yesterday and you can't change it. Neither of you can. What you two didn't knew is that neither of you too wanted to change it.

"Can we maybe talk about last night?" he suddenly said. "Yeah, yeah of course, what about last night?" I asked quietly. "I-I, fuck, I don't know how to say that-" but before he could finish his sentence, I interrupted him,

"You think it was a mistake and you asked me to forget it and to not mention it ever again because you hate me and that was just a stupid one night stand thing for you" I told him. He just stared at me for multiple seconds before he opened his mouth and spoke up,

"No"

"What do you mean with 'no'?"

"y/n, I know how I treated you and how rude and cruel I am to you, but that what we did last night wasn't a damn one night stand" he said calmly. "What was it then to you?" I asked him.

"What was it to you?" he asked me back. I had to swallow before I answered,

"I don't think that it meant the same to you as it meant to me" I said quietly while I looked at him. He let out a tiny laugh before he said,

"It meant a lot to me" hold on what did he just said?!

"What, s-seriously?" I asked with already glassy eyes. I just dreamed right?

"Y/n, when I told you that I would save my ass and that I would be happy when you would be dead, then I didn't meant that at all. I care about you, a lot actually and I would rather sacrifice my ass to save yours" he said with a tiny laugh.

I slowly approached him and asked,

"You are not lying?"

"I'm not lying"

As soon as he said I leaned forward gave him a tiny peck to test if he really wants that, and yes he does, he leaned forward and kissed me properly on the lips while he put of his hands softly on my waist and I put my hands on his shoulders. He slowly started to walk forward so that i had to walk backwards and backed me up against the wall, at first I thought that we are gonna the same thing like last night but he just put one of his hands on my cheek and looked me deep in the eyes.

"I really like you y/n"

"I really like you too"

He kissed my forehead gently before we went on with our little make out session.

---

"Tom, no!" I yelled at him. "Why not?!" he yelled back loudly. "Because, when my dad is gonna catch us in the conference room then we are both dead and you know that!" I screamed at my boyfriend.

Tom wanted to make out in the conference room, that my father is probably gonna enter soon. "Who gives a fuck about him" he yelled back at me. "Tom, how do you think my dad will look at us when he sees us not sliding each other's throats!, What do you think is he gonna do huh?!"

"But we are together y/n, we are in a relationship and we are fucking adults so we are allowed to do that! We love each other!"

"In this world is no place for love Thomas!"

Silent.

I instantly regret what I said. I looked at him and I could already see tears building up in his eyes.

"So you don't love me?" he asked quietly and unsure. "No! That not what I meant. Tom, it's just that this world wasn't made for love, okay? I know that we love each other, you love me and I love you, so so so much tommy but this world that we are living in is dangerous, okay?" I told him before I slowly approached him. I put my hands in his hands and gave him a small but gentle peck on the cheek.

"I love you" I whispered.

"I l-love you too darling" he said quietly.

"I'm so sorry for what I said, I hope you forgive me" I said while I laid my head on his chest. He is always so warm and caring and gentle with me.

"Yeah baby, I forgive you" he said with a tiny smile on his gorgeous face. "Thank you" I answered before I pecked his nose. "I'm gonna take a shower" I said quietly while I looked him deep in the eyes. "Mind if I join?" he asked with a smirk. "Not at all… " I slowly leaned forward to whisper in his ear and said,

"daddy"

Before I could even blink, he threw me over the shoulder and made his way to the bathroom.

---

"Fuuuuck babygirl, you take me so well" he whispered while I tried to take his entire member in my mouth. And fuck was that hard because he was so big. Suddenly he started to thrust his hips and I gagged loudly. "You can take it kitten, I know you can" he spat quitely. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I gagged around him, but It was so fucking hot and rough Tom is the best thing you can get. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum" he said while he shut his eyes. After he came, I swallowed everything and then I stood up and we got out of the shower. He grabbed the back of my neck tightly and turned me around. Our noses touched while he looked me deep in the eyes. "You're mine, understand?" I nodded with my head quickly before he spoke up again,

"That was a great shower don't you thing doll" he said with a huge grin on his face after he let my neck go slowly. I just rolled my eyes before I started to dry my body with my towel. But before I could take my brush to brush through my hair and get the knots out, tom took the brush from my hand and started to gently brush my hair while he stood behind me just in a Calvin klein boxer and grey sweatpants. He gently brushed through them while I watched him in the mirror infront of me. "Mhhmm" I moaned with a tiny smile written on my face. "Don't moan or I'm gonna take you right against the counter princess" he slowly whispered into my ear while he still brushed gently through my hair. "sorry… daddy" he just scoffed before he gave me the 'warning gaze'. I started to laugh and he put the brush aside to grab the lotion. "Are you laughing at me?" he asked with 'fake shook' on his face. "Sorry bubu, your just so sweet" I said between laughter. "You're even sweeter my love" he answered as he applied some lotion on my back and slowly rubbed it in. "That feels good baby, thank you" I said. "No, thank you" he told me while he looked in the mirror where our eyes met. "For what?" I asked with a tiny smile. "For being the best girlfriend ever" he whispered before he gave me a small peck on my temple. I smile before I answerd,

"I love you so damn much Tommy" he rubbed his hands slowly over my shoulders before he spoke up,

"I love you too princess" I used to hate this name, but now I love it.

---

I sat in my room, crying silently on my bed all alone. To have a dad that is just focused on the mob and basically didn't gives a single shit about his own daughter Is hard and it fucking hurts. But luckily i got a caring boyfriend that should be here any minute-

"Hey babygirl, what's wrong?" he asked as he came into the bedroom. "Is it your dad again?" he added after a while. I just nodded with my head before I started to let more sob's out. "No, no, no, you know that I don't like it when you cry princess" he said as he sat down next to me and pulled me into his chest. He hold me tightly in his arms before I spoke up,

"I'm s-sorry" he just looked at me before he said,

"For what?" I looked at him briefly before I looked down at my lap again. "For i-interrupting you t-tommy"

"No, no, there's nothing to be sorry about, okay? I love you and I'm gonna be here for you, you understand?" I nodded with my head quickly before I looked him deep in the eyes. Suddenly he pulled me on his lap so that I straddled him and laid both of his hands on my hips. We both looked at each other's lips briefly before I slowly leaned in and captured his soft lips in a gentle kiss. "I" kiss. "love" kiss. "you" kiss. "so" kiss. "much" kiss. I laughed at him before I kissed his forehead gently and said,

"I love you too so much"

"Can we cuddle?" I added. Tom laughed before he answered,

"Of course darling, anything for you"

I laid down while Tom laid behind me and he threw his hand around me and pulled me into him. "Good night Tommy" I whispered. "Good night baby" he whispered back before we both fell into a deep but wonderful sleep.

---

It was the worst day of your life. Tom was kneeling on the ground, I stood behind him and my father stood infront of us with his gun pointed at me while I had my gun against Tom's temple. Yes, you heard right. Tom's fucking temple.

"Kill him y/n, prove your father that you are strong enough to lead the mob, just like me princessa" my father told me while tears started to build up in my eyes. My father found out about Tom's and my relationship. He went crazy, he freaked out and yelled at us and went absolutely mad. I saw a lot sides from my father already, but not this one. And it kinda made me shit my pants. He demanded me to shoot Thomas so I could prove to him that Tom would be a bad influence for me and the mob. The things is that I would rather die that kill my own fucking boyfriend. Only problem, my father doesn't care.

"You k-know that i-i can't father" I whispered while tears were rolling down my cheeks. "Just do it y/n, it's okay, we had a great time didn't we?" Tom slightly laughed but then I could hear him sob. My father just laughed before he spoke up,

"That's no love that you little kids have, that's just some random bullshit, shoot him" he answered with a laugh. Tom swallowed and I couldn't stop the tears. We both couldn't. "I love you princess, so much" Tom whispered quietly. I just shaked my head while I let sob's out and looked at my dad again. "I don't give a-a fuck a-about the m-mob anymore, I love t-Tom and when you c-can't accept t-that then I'm really sorry" I quietly said. My dad laughed before he said,

"Wait, what do you mean with 'then I'm really sorry' y/n?" he asked.

"I love Thomas, and I fucking hate you" I said before I shot my father in his right shoulder. Tom closed his eyes tightly but when I put both of my hands in his cheeks he opened them again. "Are you okay?" Tom asked me quickly. I nodded with my head before I hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry baby" I shaked my head quickly and answered,

"No, I'm sorry"

"No, you shouldn't be, I'm supposed to protect you, to protect you from situations like that doll, but I didn't and I'm so sorry" he said quietly. "It's okay Tommy, I love you" "I love you too" he said before we shared a loving kiss. After that, Tom and i got up and went to my father who was laying desperately on the ground.

"Fuck you daddy" I told him.

"Why p-princess, w-why" he weakly asked. Before I could response, Tom spoke up,

"By the way, your daughter calls me daddy too" he said with a wink. And those were the last words my father heard. The best last words even in my opinion. I laughed at my boyfriend before he picked me up and ran towards the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" I asked between laughter. "Oh, I'm just gonna make you beg, scream and cry, okay?" he asked. And as soon as I heard these words I was screwed.

"Yes daddy"

"Good girl"

-`ღ´- ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ -`ღ´-

Taglist:

@goodgirlgonetom @majo240820 @misshale21 @itstaskeen @pure-ghost @justafangirlduh @elizabeth-brown @roseke @onyourgoddamnleft @lovelyxtom

[mrs-gucci]

Anything Goes {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

anonymous (half of their request):

I think the world needs a Maurizio x Studio 54 fic 👀

author’s notes: hello, hello! YES, I think we need this...and now we have it! thanks for sending it in <3 I really enjoyed researching a bit and whipping up this piece! a special thanks to @babbushka​ for being the resident Studio 54 expert!  Mauri isn’t as ‘soft’ here as he is when I write him usually, but I honestly loved exploring this sort of ‘wild side’.

warnings: smut. porn with some plot. masquerade. I think Studio 54 is a warning of its own. dancing. grinding. p in v. unprotected sex. fluff at the end.

(possible) tw’s: some alcohol consumption. cigarette smoking (canon for character). (!!) implied infidelity/extramarital sex. public sex. (!!)

word count: 2.46k

terms to know

Bellissima means ‘beautiful’ in Italian (an affectionate nickname). Dio means ‘God’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece). Cristo means ‘Christ’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece). Cazzo means ‘fuck’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece).

maurizio’s taglist peeps! @icarusinthesea @eagerforhoney my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)​

Muffled tunes bump from the concrete walls as you and your small group of friends walk past the blocks-long line. You flash your Gucci company ID to the bouncer, who lets you in immediately, getting a few envious mutters and groans from the line-goers.

Studio 54 is the place to be these days and luckily for you, working at the House of Gucci’s New York branch gets you premiere access, since the CEO is a huge investor in the club. 

Tonight’s a masquerade theme, so all patrons are wearing a variety of different masks, from whole-face masks to only eye masks. But, each was very much their own, a sea of colors and sequins and feathers as their wearers stride about.

You’re clad in a risqué disco getup, wearing a metallic silver tube top and matching skirt with some small heels that you’re sure you’ll tire of rather quickly. But Studio 54, from what you’ve heard, is all about the looks, the glitz and the glamour. Your eye mask is made to match tonight’s look as well as resemble cat-eye glasses, black with small silver wings coming off the pointed edges. 

Your winter coat is checked and then you head up to the dance floor, music getting louder and louder as you ascend the staircase. Your breasts bounce a bit with each step, nipples peering out from beneath the silver fabric. Studio 54 is known for its ‘anything goes’ rule, and you fully intend on taking advantage of that freedom tonight. 

It’s jam-packed, just as you’d expected it to be, sweaty bodies dancing and grinding together in a large group on the floor. The stale air is hazy with cigarette smoke, smells of sex and drugs linger all throughout the thick, humid air. Your senses are overwhelmed while at the same time aroused by the sights and smells of Studio 54.

While your friends head over to the bar to grab drinks, you head right onto the dance floor, beginning your night of wild, passionate fun. A few guys come and grind with you for a few minutes or so, but they leave shortly after. Your eyes peer through the holes in your mask, lingering over the talent standing at the sides of the floor, scouting and waiting to devour their scantily-clad prey.

Your gaze pauses on a man leaning against one of the pillars, lighting up a cigarette. He looks in stark contrast to all other club-goers who sport the metallic, the feathers, the sequins, the avant-garde. He’s so abnormally normal with his crisp, classy 007-type tuxedo. His chestnut brown hair drapes down to just below the brilliant white collar of his button-up, neatly moussed and styled. He’s disguised by a bright white half-face mask, making him appear almost ghoulish when paired with his handsomely pale skin.

His eyes suddenly dart over to meet yours and your cheeks heat up as you look away, biting your lip softly. He smirks, taking a drag off his cigarette before heading over to the bar. He’s going to need some courage juice in him before he approaches you.

The night wears on and you start to get a bit discouraged. You’re still having fun, of course, you just wish that it was going more according to your fantasy and imagination. Perhaps you should head to another club, see if you fare better there. 

Deciding in favor of checking out other hotspots in the area, you begin to make your way off to the side back towards the door. Suddenly, a set of large, strong hands slide onto your waist and pulls you back, forcing you to collide with a large body. The scent of expensive cigarettes enveloping you as he steps up behind you and goosebumps instantaneously erupt down your arms as the tall man leans down, lips now at your ear.

“Ciao, bellissima.” His voice is slightly husky and thick with Italian origin, alcoholic breath hot on your skin.  “The party’s out here on the floor, not down at coat check.”

You chuckle. “It seems that no one wants to party with me for more than five minutes tonight. I was gonna try my luck at another club.”

He pulls you back a bit further against him.

“Well then, it’s lucky I caught you. I’d be just kicking myself if I missed the chance to dance with a beauty like you.”

“I think you overestimate my talents, sir.” You’re wondering if this is a dream, something to cope with the real-life disappointment of the night.

The man chuckles, running his nose along the side of your neck and inhaling your sweet perfume. “And I think you underestimate your talents, miss.”

A slower, more sensual song begins to play through the speakers and you reach up to wrap your hand around the back of your unknown dance partner’s neck, keeping him down near your head.

“Let’s find out who’s right, then, shall we?”

His grin is obvious, even though you can’t see him. “Yes, let’s.”

You start by leaning back against him, simply feeling out the slow and steady rhythm of the beat. You’ve never felt so relaxed, so carefree before and it feels really, really nice. He drops his hands from your hips, but sways along with you, trying to keep his lips away from your up-done hair. 

He ends up having a few of your hairs catch on his plush lips a few minutes later, causing him to have to try spitting them out subtly and quietly. 

It doesn’t work. 

You laugh softly and he blushes, chuckling awkwardly along with you. “Sorry about that. You must’ve caught some of my flyaways.”

“Yes, it seems that way. I feel guilty for ruining the mood, though.” His nose nudges at your temple, hands coming back up to hold your hips as he senses your motions grow a bit quicker.

“Don’t. I’m sure we can manage to bring it back to what we had before. In fact, I think we can make it even better.”

Your hips begin to circle back against him at a more aggressive rate of speed, moving the fabric of his dress slacks all over his hardening crotch. His breath is shaky as it comes out through his nose, fingers digging a bit tighter into the flesh of your hips.

The humid air practically suffocates the two of you as the other patrons dance all around, causing a slick sheen to quickly cover your skin, the roots of your hair soaking through steadily. Your fingers gently massage his scalp as his lips move and suck red marks into your tender skin that’ll surely turn purple by the end of the night.

Soon, he begins experimentally rolling his pelvis in time with your motions, grunting against your neck at the sensations this new move is creating. He’s almost fully hard beneath his suit slacks by now, already planning out how he’s gonna get with you tonight. Patrizia doesn’t have to know about this.

“So, are you ever gonna let me see you, mystery man?” You ask, chuckling.

He blushes beneath the mask. He’s extremely hesitant to let you see him, an instinct born of being in the spotlight since youth. But then he remembers, he’s in America and he has a mask on. 

His hands pull away from you and a small kiss placed on your exposed shoulder. “Look upon me, then, bellissima.”

Suddenly gripped with nerves, you turn around slowly and look up. He’s handsome; the epitome of men, warm brown hair and endearing ocean blue eyes. His gazes roam your masked appearance in a similar manner, relieved that you don’t seem to recognize him. A sudden feeling of familiarity washes over you as your eyes meet once more.

“Your eyes, your gaze...they’re familiar to me. Is there a chance we’ve crossed paths before?”

His nostrils flare in fear, eyes going wide for a moment. A soft, cautious breath leaves his lips and he shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s not likely. I’ve been told I have one of those faces, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. That’s probably it.” You step back up to him, hands smoothing over his broad chest. “Now, where were we?”

“Hmm, I think it was...” Maurizio smirks, leaning down so that his lips hover just above yours. “Right about here, if I recall correctly.”

Pressing yourself up on your toes, you connect your lips to his just as the last of his sentence passes through his velvety pink lips. Your arms snake up around the back of his neck, fingers toying with the rich brown locks. They certainly won’t be so neatly styled when you’re finished with him tonight, that much you’re sure of.

He smiles against your lips, stepping up a bit closer to you, body now pressing right up against yours. The two of you remain that way until he pulls away softly, breathing slightly heavy as his eyes look over your face.

“Can I take you upstairs? To the uh, balcony, perhaps?”

Oh, you’ve heard plenty of things about the balcony and the heat has already begun to pool in your loins. You nod, a small but devious grin stretching across your face.

“Absolutely. Lead the way, handsome.”

The two of you make your way towards the staircase, dodging and weaving through the crowds of dancing drag queens, salacious skaters, carefree celebrities and various other perky patrons.

“Do I get to learn your name before we reach the balcony?”

His breath hitches. “Mauri, you can call me Mauri.”

Your brows furrow slightly. You’ve never heard a name like that before, but maybe it’s some kind of nickname. 

“Mauri, got it. I’m Y/N.”

Y/N. A beautiful name, fit for a beautiful woman.

He smiles and nods, guiding you up to the balcony. When you arrive, there are already plenty of people inhabiting the space, all in various stages of either sex, undress or getting high. 

This is definitely where a majority of the sex smell downstairs is originating from. 

Mauri keeps his head tilted downwards and you swear you can see a bit of a blush on his cheeks as he takes you over to a relatively secluded corner. He undoes his belt quickly, sloppily kissing you as he does so.

You gasp sharply into his mouth when he suddenly scoops you up and slams you against the wall, lips working your neck while his hands free his hardened arousal from where it’s trapped beneath the restrictive suit fabric.

Your skirt is promptly pushed up to rest on your hips, your panties are pushed to the side, and Mauri’s cock is sheathing itself inside you before you can even process it.

“Ohhh christ.”

His jaw slacks against your neck, eyes squeezing shut while his hot breath spreads over your taut skin. Goosebumps erupt where the invisible warmth falls. “Dio.”

He stays still for a moment, then buries his face into the crook of your neck before his hips begin to move. There’s nothing slow or intimate about what the two of you are doing, it’s carnal. It’s sloppy and rough, the sweat mingling especially where your skin is pressed against his. 

The smell of sex that permeates around you only makes the whole experience that much more arousing. Your eyes looking around the room to see other couples getting off, shuddering and whining as you make eye contact with a young woman currently getting fucked on the ground. Your insides clench around him instinctively, earning you a small grunt while your hand takes hold of his silky brown locks.

“You’re tight, cristo, so hot and slick for my cock.”

Your head falls back against the wall with an audible clunk sound and you cringe in acute pain for a quick moment, but the pure lust and hunger flowing through you provides the adrenaline needed to ward off the pain. It’ll surely be sore come dawn, but really, you couldn’t care less at the moment.

“So big, Mauri, fucking me so good.”

Mauri fucks you harder, then, crooked teeth scraping against the taut flesh of your neck, panting softly. You reach down into the humid space between your bodies until your fingertips find the engorged bud nestled neath folds of delicate flesh.

A wet sound soon emerges from between your legs as your fingers swipe back and forth over your clit quickly, bringing yourself right up to the edge within only a minute or two. 

He grunts into your neck, pace rapidly devolving into one that’s erratic and desperate, shaft pulsing under the tight grip of your insides. His breathing grows quick and shallow, hands pushing at your spread legs to push them further into a spread eagle position. 

“Where do you want it?”

You moan along with his motions, pitch heightening slightly with each of his powerful thrusts. “Fuck, I--”

Suddenly, you’re thrown over the edge, a powerful orgasm hitting you like a truck. An avalanche of pleasure rolls over your body, nerves buzzing with warm feelings of release. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, lips near his ear to catch the chorus of whimpers, whines and little mewls that leave your lips.

“M-Mauri.”

His brows crease, knitting in the center of his forehead as he fucks you through it, finding it a nearly impossible feat to stave off his own climax, but he manages.

“Cazzo, I--wheredoyouwantit?” He’s barely holding on, now.

“Outside, a-anywhere.”

Balls pulling up, Mauri moans and pulls out quickly, just as the first thick rope of creamy release spatters onto your fleshy inner thighs. A long, shaky groan leaves his lips before he crashes them onto yours to muffle the rest of his sounds.

You move with him, lips liquid with his, fluid motions so effortless that you’d think the union was one entity. He pulls away from your lips slowly, then out of your tingling cunt, a smile on his face the whole way along.

“I apologize for the mess, bellissima.” He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes the creamy liquid from your thighs before helping pull your skirt back down. “There we go.”

You offer him a small smile, biting your lip as the unsureness of what to do next takes over. After a moment, you clear your throat, chuckling softly.

“I’m not really sure what to do next, if I’m completely honest.”

“Me neither.” His cheeks, of what you can see of them behind the mask, turn a shade of pink. “How about I buy you a drink at the bar? That seems like a good place to start.”

Your lips instantly curve upwards into a smile and you offer him a soft nod.

“A drink would be great.”

[letsstaytuned]

With a flash of green magic, Alastor changed into his human disguise as well. His hair was still fluffy but with a shorter cut and a dark brown, similar to the tips of his usual deer ears and the end of his hair. Instead of his usual red tinted monocle, he sported clear glasses and his eyes were brown. He was wearing pants with dress shoes, a red vest, and a white button up shirt underneath with the sleeves rolled up just past his elbows.

"Ready when you are, Princess," Alastor flashed her a reassuring smile, not wanting her to feel nervous and back out now.

Oh, the things he was going to do while they were there. Of course, he had to make sure Charlie was entertained but that shouldn't be too difficult as a lot of the things she wanted to do were things he would like to do as well. Though there was one activity he was fairly certain she wouldn't approve of— which was killing and eating people.

He would have to make sure she was occupied while he was participating in that particular little activity.

"Well, from what I have heard New Orleans is still quite the swinging town when it comes to music! I feel confident we'll be able to fit some of that in," Alastor smiled at her, though it was a bit softer than usual.

He loved music and dancing, too, so he was pleased to hear she was interested in that. While he didn't know exactly what was around nowadays, he was sure they could find something.

It was about another week and a half before they were both finally ready to go. Alastor was in the hotel lobby, wearing his normal suit and carrying nothing more than a messenger bag as he waited for the Princess to show up for their departure time. He hummed a little tune as he inspected his claws idly.

[detectivehannibal]

Pretty as a Picture

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Implications of smut.

A/N: Why do I keep disappearing from this blog?? I’ve had this idea for FOREVER. Fun fact about me, I sometimes recycle my works from other blogs. So if you’re curious, this is from my Harry Potter blog @seriouslysnape and here’s the original work.

Word Count: 1,738

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.”

__

On the surface, surprises don’t really seem to come to mind when you think about Hannibal Lecter. The esteemed psychiatrist always came off to you as an open book. He was usually willing to share all aspects of his life with you, which naturally left you believing that there weren’t any secrets lurking further within himself. 

Oh, how wrong you were.

Despite all the things that you didn’t know about Hannibal, you knew him well enough to know the sorts of things that he has a fancy for and the things he doesn’t. As high maintenance and temperamental as he is, he is shockingly easy to please. It’s a bit of an ironic statement, but still the truth nonetheless. 

You could gift Hannibal with something as simple as a pair of socks or with something as extravagant as a brand new luxury suit, and he’d always have the same genuine, appreciative reaction. If something came from you, he would surely love it with his whole heart. 

This gift, however, was on a whole new level.

The idea had honestly come to you at random when you were brainstorming birthday present possibilities. Even though he would never admit it, he was a bit bored of you buying him a new tie for every occasion. He had a tie for every color, pattern, and even he could ever dream of. You wanted to think outside of the box this time. You wanted to come up with something that he would never ever think of. 

On the flip side, you also wanted to be sure that it was something that he could have for a long time and something that would have some real meaning to him. You could always go down the culinary appliance route, but he already had absolutely everything he’d ever possibly want or need. You were in a bit of a rut, but that’s when you got a wonderful thought.

Hannibal didn’t own many personal pictures. Most of the photos in his house were custom made art pieces that were worth more than the price of your left leg alone. Hannibal never struck you as the kind of man to have plethoras of pictures of loved ones, but you still found it odd. It’d be a win-win in your eyes. You’d supply Hannibal with some photos to hold on to, and it’d be a thoughtful gift.

Then your plan took a sultry turn.

You had picked out a large photo album that would match the aesthetic of his house, and an album that would have plenty of pages to fill up. You kept it stashed away in your closet until you were ready to put pictures inside of it when another idea came to mind. 

What if you made a sexy photo album for him?

At first, you were a little sheepish at the idea. Boudoir style pictures showing off only the dirtiest of contents? It seemed like that might be too much and even a bit weird. The longer you thought about it, though, the more and more the idea sounded good. Maybe Hannibal wouldn’t necessarily jump at the gift, but at least he’d have something to jerk off to when you weren’t around.

You assembled as many outfits as you could, some coming from your personal collection and some were purchased as a specialty to the production of the photos. You’d need some help actually having the photos taken, which is why you recruited one of your closest friends.

You could’ve had them professionally done, but you weren’t sure how comfortable you were with a photographer and group of modeling experts studying over your naked body for an entire day. Your friend was stoked for the project and dedicated a whole afternoon while Hannibal was at work to help you out. 

You took probably about a hundred pictures, all with varying poses, outfits, and locations around the house. You even took a few more innocent photos of you just smiling or doing candid things. You figured that you needed some sweet to balance out the spicy. 

You decorated the pages to add some pop and flare, ultimately thrilled with the final product. Hannibal’s birthday was only a few days away, and you were itching to show him what you had made for him. 

“You’re fidgety tonight.” Hannibal spoke from where he was laid out underneath you on the living room sofa. 

It was true, you had been extremely jittery for the last hour and a half, trying to compose yourself. Hannibal had told you that he had wanted nothing more than to have a quiet evening in for his birthday, which you found as a blessing because he’d definitely want to stay around the house after seeing his gift.

“Sorry. Just excited.” You admitted, seeing this as the perfect opportunity.

He raised a brow, looking down at your frame that was practically trembling with explosive animation. 

“I feel as if I don’t need to inform you that my birthday comes around every year,” He joked; “What’s gotten you so elated?”

You smiled up at him with a brightness that was almost blinding. You scrambled off of the sofa at your cue.

“Wait right here. I’ll be back.” You announced as you dashed up the stairs.

Hannibal chuckled to himself, already guessing as to what you were plotting. You returned shortly after with the picture book in hand, complete with a bow on top. You sat with your legs crossed in front of him, eagerly handing it to him.

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.” You explained.

Hannibal sat up from where he was settled into the cushions, eyeing over the cover carefully. It was a beautifully crafted book, the dark leather was absolutely gorgeous. He pushed the bow off of the sides, opening to the very first page to see a sweet note you had written him, signed with your signature and all. He turned to the first page to actually contain photos on it, and a smile of pure joy spread on his face.

You had put all of the non-sexual pictures in the first two pages to disguise the actual reason for the book. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different casual outfits and in different places. 

“Darling, these are wonderful,” He complimented; “They’re stunning, they-”

His heartbeat quickened when he made it to the third page, and he noticed they had taken on a new theme. The scandalous photos were enough to knock him speechless. For the first time ever, you saw Hannibal’s cheeks break out into a deep blush. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing one of his white work shirts with all the buttons undone. The only thing you were wearing underneath was one of his ties settled between your breasts. 

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, red colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and you went back to your original worry that this was a bad idea. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling, because Hannibal Lecter always had something to say. 

Your voice was thick with uncertainty as you spoke to break the silence.

“Hannibal, do you...like them?” You wondered aloud.

His eyes never steered clear from the book in his hands and the photos presented in front of him. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on the massive kitchen counter and giving a look so seductive that it made his belly flutter. The sight of you naked in his culinary world where he spent so much time was a sight to behold.

“[Y/N], I love them. These photographs...they’re beautiful, well produced, and so, so sexy.” He breathed out.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of anticipation as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, his hot blush growing even deeper onto his cheeks. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming dirtier than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

His lips parted slightly ajar as he loomed over them. Your waiting was patient as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. Your suspicions had been correct after all. 

He was going to rock your world.

Hannibal usually didn’t try to make the first move. He always wanted you to initiate sex first. He believed that sex was a passionate, romantic connection that shouldn’t always be fueled by burning want and desire from outside resources. Based on the way he was looking at you though, you could tell that he wanted you BADLY. 

He nonchalantly rolled his hips forward to create some kind of friction. The sneaky grin on your face was almost maddening. The way that your body leaned in and your lips brushed over his just ever so was intoxicating. Your lips traveled to his ear as you purposefully let out a wanton moan to tantalize him. 

“Touch me, Hanni. I know you want to.” You coaxed.

That was all he needed. 

Hannibal lunged forward, smothering your body with his and suffocating you with hot kisses. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you. 

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those outfits under this sweater?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. When Hannibal didn’t want you to go anywhere, then you wouldn’t. You bit down on your lip in a seductive way, breathing out your response to send him into full on love making mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

[pillage-and-lute]

Prompt: fake realtionahip/marriage, whoever you like!

Ooohoho! This has been chilling as a draft for ages, now I have completed it. *mildly evil laughter*

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

The funny thing about Geralt, Jaskier thought as he did up the buttons on his best doublet, was that he really didn’t lie. He said things that weren’t true, but they were usually things he believed, or thought he believed because he was tired or grumpy. Sometimes he told half truths. He didn’t lie though.

It wasn’t even as if he didn’t have a poker face, Geralt’s face was all poker face, he just hated lying. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but tonight, Jaskier reflected, it wouldn’t be ideal.

Jaskier had heard through some whispered words at a pub that a bunch of Nilfgaardian nobles were having a gala, and the temptation of finding out what political secrets they could was two strong for their odd little family. So Geralt and Jaskier were going undercover.

There had been quite a bit of debate about that. Jaskier was obviously going. He’d grown his hair longer and had a bit of scruff going, and to be frank, all a bard really needed to disguise themselves was a new name, people saw the clothing and heard the music, but rarely remembered the face. Yennefer would have been the ideal partner in crime except for a crucial thing.

When Yennefer had been changed by magic, her eyes had been left the same. Somehow, the transformation had solidified them, and no spell would change them. Her eyes were too distinctive, and so she would stay behind with Ciri. That left Geralt, and since the ball was only for the nobility, he would be the fiance of Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

Damn.

See, Geralt didn’t lie, and that was bad enough. Jaskier wouldn’t be able to rely on Yennefer’s in-depth knowledge of the nobility and that was worse. Worst of all though, was the fact that Jaskier would have to spend a night full of wine and dancing pretending to be in love with, and engaged to, Geralt. Who he loved.

And who had, not three months ago, blamed Jaskier for every bad thing in life.

Since then Geralt had caught up with him half-way down the mountain and there had been some grumbled words about how Jaskier ‘wasn’t actually, exactly, a total curse’. Not a glowing review, but then Cintra had fallen, and they had Cirilla and they’d found a wounded Yennefer and it had all gotten so very busy.

Jaskier cast a last look in the mirror as the door to his room creaked open. He turned, expecting Geralt, but it was Yennefer.

“I suppose,” she said, eyeing him. “That this is as good as you get.” It could have been said cruelly. A year ago it would have been. Now, though, the words were fond. 

“I like the kohl, it goes well with the wrinkles at your eyes,” she winked. He smiled. There were no more wrinkles now than had been twenty years ago, and they both knew it.

“I wasn’t sure about the eyeliner,” Jaskier said, trying to sound haughty. “Overdramatic eye looks are your thing.”

Yennefer chuckled and sat on the end of the bed. “A tiny smudge of eyeliner is hardly overdramatic.” She studied him approvingly, then looked at him. Her expression was frighteningly soft.

“Have you told him that you love him?”

“Never,” Jaskier said, fiving his cravat in the mirror.

“Why ever not?”

“It would only be the mountain all over again,” Jaskier sighed. “I tried, you know. I spent years trying, and then on the mountain, I thought I was being clear...”

“What did you say?”

“I asked him to leave it all, just for a little while, with me. I thought we could go to the coast.”

“The coast,” Yennefer said from her spot on the bed. “As in Lettenhove? You wanted to show him where you grew up?”

“Partially. I could explain the immortality business easier if he met my sister, but mostly I just thought it would be peaceful.”

Yennefer snorted. “With Geralt? Peaceful? He’d spend the whole time fighting drowners and telling you not to write about mermaids because they’re vicious.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “That’s pretty peaceful for him.”

“But he said no?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Jaskier said. “Then he, well, you know, he spent the night in your tent.”

“Ah,” Yennefer said. “For what it’s worth, I hate that it happened too.”

“He doesn’t though!” Jaskier cried, whirling around to face her. “He wants it to happen again! And you! You don’t want him but he wants you while I want him!” The frustration of the whole situation and nerves for what was to come were overwhelming. “And you’re here, trying to help me,” he said more quietly. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Yennefer said, simply, standing from the bed. “And I like him. I also never, ever want to kiss him again. The djinn is sitting, somewhere in my chest, telling me I love him, but the feeling is...sick. It feels like love, as well as I can remember, but it’s poisoned and twisted and I want no part in it.”

Her purple eyes pinned Jaskier to the floor.

“And that poison pales in comparison to how much you love him. He deserves that.”

She swept out the door, tossing a “Sort it out,” over her shoulder.

Well.

The next knock at the door was Geralt, Ciri in tow. Jaskier hoped the witcher hadn’t heard any part of his and Yennefer’s conversation, but he suspected that no one overheard conversations that Yen didn’t want them too. 

“Dandelion!” Ciri said, leaping at him and using the name she’d first met him under. “You look nice! Like a prince in one of your stories!”

Jaskier blushed and thanked her quietly as he scooped her up and tossed her, laughing, onto the bed. 

He looked at Geralt for his opinion.

Oh he looked so good too. Yennefer had charmed him so that anyone else would see a different man in Geralt’s place, but to Jaskier he looked just the same. But he was wearing white. 

A white chemise, the collar and cuffs with fine red embroidery, with a cream colored cape, half length so it fell just to Geralt’s hips. It was embroidered too, green and pink and so many other colors, despite being overall still mostly cream. The pants were the same creamy fabric with a stripe down each side. Dark boots and a wide, decorative, dark belt completed the look.

“Wow,” Jaskier said.

“Rivian traditional clothing,” Geralt muttered. 

“I thought you’d hardly actually been to Rivia,” Jaskier said,.It was a better choice than the other thoughts in his head, which were half-formed screams about how absolutely skin tight those pants were.

“I haven’t been, but my...character is.”

“Right,” Jaskier said, dragging his eyes above Geralt’s shoulders. “My fiance, Ludomir of Rivia.”

Geralt said nothing.

Jaskier kicked himself for mentioning the fiance thing.

“We should go,” he said.

And they went.

The lord’s castle was small, as castles go, and the guards at the gate didn’t even bother to check their invitations. With all the other lords and ladies streaming past, no one would guess that the pair were out of place. Jaskier and Geralt enterred the ballroom and Jaskier felt his stomach drop straight through to his shoes.

The walls were positively lined with Nilfgaardian soldiers. Geralt’s shoulders stiffened too, but they steered themselves to a feast table as if nothing was wrong.

It took them almost a full circle of the tables to find the two little cards for ‘Viscount de Lettenhove’ and ‘Guest’. Getting onto the guest list had been laughably easy, and Jaskier just sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the stupid title was finally useful for something.

They sat in their places and guests populated the seats around them. There was a lady next to Jaskier who already smelled of the strongly alcoholic sherry that was being served. Her hair, probably a wig towered, and was strung all over with so many pearls and little tiny golden ornaments that when she stepped outside she must surely be attacked by magpies.

“My lady,” Jaskier said, as chivalrous as he could around a mouthful of her rose perfume. “I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to be introduced.”

“Oooh,” she giggled, “You’re sweet, I’m Dame Au’Vigne, and I can see by your card that you are the Viscount de Lettenhove, I knew your father.”

Yes, Jaskier thought. I remember, he turned down your proposal. Jaskier had been a lad then, barely eight years old, but he remembered through a child’s eyes a mountain of lace and perfume who had offered to marry his father while actually at his mother’s funeral.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said. Heinous bitch, he thought. He remembered rumors too, which are always a bard’s stock and trade, that Dame Au’Vigne’s husbands were always wealthy, usually handsome, and all of them had shockingly short lifespans. 

Rumor also had it that she was backing Nilfgaard financially and had been playing the shipping stock with insider knowledge of their movements. A very good person to be seated next to tonight. 

“May I introduce my fiance, Ludomir of Rivia,” Jaskier said, gesturing to Geralt. Geralt nodded and hummed, somewhat politely.

“How handsome,” Dame Au’Vigne stage whispered. “Where ever did you find him?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jaskier said.

The lord of the castle stood up and gave a droning speech. It was full of euphemisms about ‘upholding standards’ and ‘fostering strong relations’ that boiled down to ‘I’m an untrustworthy bastard who believes that allowing the deaths of my people en masse is fine so long as I make money.’ It was depressing, too, as Jaskier looked around the ballroom to see so many people nodding in agreement. 

Traitors and bastards, the lot of them.

Geralt’s face hadn’t changed even an inch.

“So,” Dame Au’Vigne said as the appetizer course was served. “You two aren’t exactly in a honeymoon phase, are you?”

And she was right, for a couple, newly engaged, Jaskier and Geralt hadn’t acted the part yet at all.

“I’m afraid,” Jaskier said, inventing wildly. “That we’re both just a touch nervous, the engagement is so new, you see, and this is our first event,” he took Geralt’s hand, above the table, so Dame Au’Vigne could see. “As a couple.”

“Oh how sweet,” she said airily. “You know, they’ll have dancing between the courses, it’ll be a great way for you to wet your social feet. Sir Erdin and the lady in the lavender dress,” she pointed across the ballroom. “They’re newly engaged as well.” She lowered her voice.

“Sir Erdin is very supportive of the cause, word has it he’s in with the very inner circle,” Dame Au’Vigne giggled, as if being in the inner circle of a murderous group of intruders was as delightful as a recent engagement.

“How interesting!” Jaskier said, affecting a jealous and impressed tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geralt’s eyebrow twitch, the way it did when he was listening hard.

“Oh yes,” Dame Au’Vigne said. “And Lord Snapcase, in the corner, he...” and she went on, was the marvelous thing, she couldn’t seem to help herself but gossip about everyone. And she had all these details about how they were helping ‘the cause’. Destiny must have finally decided to throw Jaskier and Geralt a bone.

Then the appetizer course was finished and Jaskier felt much less lucky. Dame Au’Vigne was ushering him and Geralt out of their seats to dance. It wasn’t one of the quick, hopping around, switching partners dances either. No, the band seemed insistent on only slow, romantic music. 

Awkwardly, Geralt slid one large hand around Jaskier’s waist and they turned in slow circles on the dance floor. The witcher’s face looked like a thunderclap.

“Try and look like you’re having fun, darling,” Jaskier said. Please don’t look at me as though holding me is torture, his inner self begged.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Jaskier leaned in.

“Really dear heart,” he leaned in even closer, lips almost touching Geralt’s ear. “People are going to suspect something,” he said in the barest of whispers.

“Let them,” Geralt hissed back in the same fashion. “We’ve got the information, we can leave.” 

Jaskier, keeping up appearances, tossed his head back and let out a delighted shriek of laughter, as if Geralt had just told him a joke or, perhaps, made a wonderfully indecent proposal.

“Later, perhaps,” he said, stage-whispering for the sake of those around them. Leaning in again he whispered for real, “We can’t leave until the party’s over, no one else will, they’d send some of those soldiers after us for sure.”

The music changed, and Geralt and Jaskier’s slow circles changed speed with it. 

Geralt hissed in his ear again, “I don’t see why I had to be your,” this close Jaskier could see Geralt’s jaw working with distaste. “Lover.”

“Fiance,” Jaskier said, trying not to let his heart sink. It couldn’t possibly go any lower. “There’s a difference.”

They said no more to each other, and after the second dance, declined the third to sit back at their seats and await the arrival of the soup course.

The man sat beside Geralt was some old military man, mostly mustache and the rest of him was a rather musty and very old fashioned uniform. It had gold braid and a colonel’s insignia. The hat that sat next to his chair had a plume. 

He leaned over to Geralt and said, rather loudly, in a voice that implied tone deafness, to both volume and social situations, “Just marrying him for the money, eh?”

People to both sides of Jaskier and Geralt looked around. Dame Au’Vigne looked at them askance.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. It was a negative answer to the colonel’s question, but the man didn’t take it as such.

“Often is the way,” the man nearly bellowed. “My missus hated me right up to the day she died.”

Jaskier curled in on himself. The role of Viscount wasn’t a big one, mostly administrative and, these days, completed by his sister Rowena, who was better at sitting behind a desk. Still, argued a battered part of his long ago but still proper upbringing. The name of Pankratz was being dragged through the mud. Lots of these people would know the name too, these sour, vindictive, unpleasant, murderous people. And they’d know the gossip, would have taken part in the gossip about ‘Young Julian running off to be a bard,’ (this generally said with the same tone as is usually leant to slave trader) and how ‘he’ll never find a good marriage now,’ how he was ‘a disgrace to the name.’ 

And here was their long awaited confirmation. Jaskier-Julian, couldn’t find a good marriage, was being wed only for his money. Of course, more than half the pairings here were only in it for the money, but to have it said, so loudly too, and before the wedding had even happened, it was social condemnation.

Jaskier looked down at the table cloth, his face hot. He’d faced social condemnation before, of course, he’d survive. What hurt was that Geralt wasn’t really protesting, Geralt couldn’t even pretend to like Jaskier, not for a single evening. Twenty years he’d done a good enough job of acting to convince even Jaskier, mostly, apart from the punches and the insults and...maybe Jaskier had been a little blind to the truth but still. 

It was ruining their cover though, so he protested quietly. “Not just for the money,” he said, patting Geralt’s hand where one fist wrapped around his goblet. “My fiance is just shy, that’s all.”

The damage was already done, but the old colonel hiccupped. “Well lad,” he said, giving Geralt a slap on the back. “This ale’s pretty good so drink up. Got me through three years of happy marriage, strong ale did.” The man took a slug of his own drink. “And fourty seven more unhappy years.” He guffawed hugely and unpleasantly, little drops of ale flinging from his mustache. 

Wherever the soul of the unpleasant man’s dead wife was, Jaskier felt sure she was happy to be away from this miserable old drunk.

Geralt, however, was looking at Jaskier. Their eyes met. Jaskier knew he probably looked as hunted as he felt, and his cheeks were probably still burning from the embarassment. Still, it seemed as though Geralt was about to say something. His golden eyes were full of emotion, but Jaskier couldn’t parse out what kind. 

Whatever kind it was, it caused Geralt to take the colonel’s advice and drink like there was no tomorrow. 

Great. Jaskier had driven his companion to drinking. 

He felt a little like doing so himself. 

The soup course was good, hot and savory, but underspiced. Geralt slurped it up gratefully. Jaskier knew that rich food was usually too much for his senses if it was spiced to Jaskier’s taste.

More dancing. Jaskier didn’t stand, at first, assuming that Geralt would rather sit and drink more. There were some snickers as people judged him. Geralt stood though, and he offered a hand and led Jaskier to the dance floor.

“You need to act drunk,” Jaskier whispered in his ear. “If you were a normal man you would be.”

“I am acting,” Geralt rumbled.

“You’re very steady for a drunk,” Jaskier sniffed.

“You said I was shy, now I’m less shy,” Geralt whispered. “And I’ve been drinking. So...drunk.” It was torture, being held like this, having that voice in Jaskier’s ear. That hand, so warm cupping his own. He wanted to cry.

A couple whirled past them. It was the Dame Au’Vigne, gossiping to some new dance partner. A snippet of her words caught them.

“-de Lettenhove. Entirely loveless of course. Unlovable, his father said once, of course as a bard-” then the tide of conversation and other dancers stole the rest of the words.

Jaskier sagged. His father hadn’t been a nice man, and unlovable wasn’t the worst of what he’d been called in his life, but now, with Geralt so close and so disgusted by the prospect...well, it hit a little close to home. 

“Laugh,” Geralt whispered in his ear.

“What?” Jaskier hissed.

“Like before, laugh like before, but...more so. Pretend I said a dirty joke.”

Jaskier did, heads turned as he pretended to laugh, half scandalized and half delighted at something Geralt said.

Geralt even chuckled along with him. Then his hand crept down Jaskier’s back to his hip. It wasn’t dirty. It was just so,so spine tinglingly close to dirty.

It was almost worse. If Geralt had gripped his ass that would have been bad, but this, Jaskier was left to speculate. He had a very active imagination. The couples next to them were giggling and tittering, scandalized, but not too much, at the pair.

They danced all three dances. During the second dance Geralt spun Jaskier out and then back in flashily, dipping him over one arm like a dainty maiden. Jaskier, who was no dainty maiden, knew the strength that elaborate dip must have taken and his head spun. The third dance was slow, and once again they simply held one another and turned in slow circles. Except Geralt pressed their cheeks together in a way that was so intimate that Jaskier finally gave in. Just tonight he had Geralt, all of him, his attention, his warmth. 

There was only so much a bard could take, and Jaskier gave in to the fantasy.

“I wonder how Yennefer is,” Geralt whispered. “And Ciri.”

It was like having cold water poured all over him. Jaskier’s fantasy shattered as soon as it had formed. Of course Geralt wasn’t enjoying this, of course his mind was elsewhere. He had a beautiful sorceress to think of, even if they weren’t sleeping together. Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri made the perfect, happy family. Where did Jaskier fit in to that?

He pulled back a little, already missing the warmth of Geralt’s cheek against his own. They finished the dance stiffly.

Back at the table, squished between Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, the main course was awful. Jaskier couldn’t judge it on the food, which he barely tasted. Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, however, had apparently come to the conclusion that Geralt or, Ludomir, rather, was marrying Jaskier for the money and the sex. They tittered, loudly and drunkely, to those around, and Geralt leaned in.

“Surely we can leave after this course,” he whispered.

Desperate to be rid of the charade, Jaskier thought. To not have to be engaged to me. “Can’t,” he whispered. “Have to stay for dessert and more dancing, else it looks suspect.”

“Hmmm.” It was a displeased hum.

“And, there will be small talk, with dessert. You need to say something, people will think you’re mute.”

“You two twitter into one another’s ears all the time,” Dame Au’Vigne said loudly. She was fully drunk off the sherry and very loud. “But not one kiss,” she lowered her voice, as if trying to be discreet. It didn’t work. “Is it truly as loveless as they say? I know you aren’t waiting until marriage.”

As who say? Jaskier thought. The only person quite that invested seems to be you.

“Not loveless,” Jaskier said. It seemed weak even to his ears.

“Surely you’ll join the dancing again, then,” Dame Au’Vigne said. 

“No,” Jaskier said, fiddling with his napkin. “I’m feeling quite too full to dance, ate too fast, I’m afraid.” He hoped she was too drunk to notice he’d picked at his plate. It seemed she was.

“Lovely little veranda, get some air there,” said a man who, according to Dame Au’Vigne, was shipping weapons to Nilfgaard behind the backs of multiple heads of state.

Jaskier nodded,stood, bowed, and made his escape. He sighed, but wasn’t surprised to find that Geralt had followed along behind. Of course he wanted to escape the party too, but Jaskier wanted to escape...him.

To his shame and surprise, he found tears in his eyes. The pressure of sitting in a room chock full of people who wanted to kill him, combined with the fact that every last one of them reminded him of being bullied in school, and add to that that he was supposed to be fake engaged to Geralt...it was too much. Fake engaged and even in their fake engagement Geralt didn’t like Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s rational brain knew that Geralt did like him, mostly. He just didn’t love him.

Jaskier leaned his elbows on the railing, overlooking some moonlit gardens, and felt the tears roll down his face.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said quietly.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. He knew Geralt could smell the salt of his tears or whatever, but still turned his face away so the witcher couldn’t see.

“I danced with you though.”

Jaskier chuckled wetly. “Nobles dance with people they hate all the time.”

Geralt was quiet for a minute then, very gently, he took one of Jaskier’s hands. “I don’t hate you.”

It was too much, Jaskier started crying in earnest, sobbing.

“C’mon, Jaskier, I like you. A lot.” Geralt was, for him, panicking clearly. Jaskier almost smiled. He was so bad at dealing with other people’s emotion. And his own.

“You’re my friend,” Geralt said, a little stuntedly. “You know I’m not a good liar.”

Too much. Twenty-two years and he finally said the word ‘friends’ and Jaskier wanted more. He whipped around to face Geralt.

“Tell me the truth, then, Geralt. Tell me you love me, it doesn’t have to be the truth for forever, but can you love me just for a night? Can you make it the truth for tonight?” Jaskier’s tears were ugly and blobby and drying up fast but he continued.

“Because I’ve loved you so long I don’t know any other truth,” He leaned forward and planted his forhead on Geralt’s collarbone and sniffled through the last of his tears, curling one, shaking fist into Geralt’s lovely pale cape as he cried. “Just this one night, Geralt, love me back.”

He hadn’t meant to say any of it, was half expecting Geralt to toss him off the low balcony into the bushes below. 

Instead Jaskier was lifted by two strong arms and sat down on the railing. Warm, delightful lips pressed against his and suddenly he was being kissed within an inch of his life. 

“The truth, you want,” Geralt said, pulling back and panting. “Is the only one I can give. I can’t pretend to love you.” Here Geralt looked into Jaskier’s eyes, like being struck by lightning. “I only love you, no pretending, I swear it.”

“But-” Jaskier was cut off.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said, furiously. “I think you think I don’t like you, Jaskier I like you, I love you so much I don’t know what to do and I’m...I’m not good with words. Or emotions.” Geralt’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just am, and the way I am is... The way I am is better with you.” 

Geralt’s face screwed up with anguish. “And I’m the reason you think I don’t like you, it’s my fault and that feels so...so bad. Yennefer’s been working with me on the feelings thing and always says ‘bad isn’t a feeling’ but I can’t tell you what all the feeling is.”

Jaskier was staring, mouth open, as frustrated, stilted, fumbling words left Geralt’s mouth. They sounded angry, but only at himself. Geralt was looking up at him as if seeking benediction.

“Tell me you love me again,” Jaskier said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Jaskier giggled as Geralt lifted him and spun him around before tucking him in close and kissing his forehead.

“I,” he said.

A kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “Love.”

A deep, breathtaking kiss to his lips. “You.”

There was nothing left for Jaskier to say except, “wow.”

Geralt smiled, that lovely warm little smile he saved for special times and offered his arm to Jaskier. “Shall we?”

They paraded back into the ballroom and danced the final dance of the set. Geralt whispered a suggestion of what he’d really like for dessert and this time Jaskier didn’t have to fake the scandalized giggle. “Back home, perhaps,” he said.

Dessert meant more conversation with Dame Au’Vigne, which was of course unbearable. There was plenty of Champagne though, which was pretty good, and the bubbles seemed to fill Jaskier all the way up. He took pleasure in picturing the downfall of all these horrible people when Nilfgaard was finally defeated for good.

He especially enjoyed sticking it to her gossip when he fed Geralt a strawberry with cream from his fingertips and recieved a kiss in thanks. Geralt was clearly enjoying himself too. He had a sweet tooth, and that certainly helped, but his hand that never left Jaskier’s under the table was a much better clue.

They walked back to the inn, flushed and warm in the cool night air, bidding farewell to the other drunken lords and ladies all filtering to finer inns or grand coaches. 

Then they were alone on their path back, Geralt’s witcher senses confirming their isolation. Then, Geralt, who never told lies, whispered sweet nothings into Jaskier’s ear the entire way home. Jaskier believed every single one.

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

It’s done, this one’s quite long and I loved writing it. Geralt is useless at playing pretend, but very good at loving Jaskier in his own way. I imagine his emotion lessons with Yennefer must have been rather intense. 

[redpandaramblings]

The Art of Blind Dates. Deku x GN! Reader

This piece was written for @rat-zuki 's the deku agenda escapes no one collab. Happy Birthday to our favorite broccoli.

Content warning- This fic rated PG-13. Aged up characters, Allusions to sexual activity, swearing, gender neutral reader.

“You know, we really have to stop meeting like this.”

You jumped, the spray can you had been using left an unsightly streak of bright red across your masterpiece. You scowled behind your mask as you turned to face the man who had spoken.

“We do. You keep making me mess up my hard work!”

You smirked, pleased with yourself as you saw Deku, the number one pro hero, recoil at the sight of your mask. It had taken a few weeks to convert the All Might mask into an ahegao face, but it was worth it if it horrified your number one pain in the ass. Izuku blinked a few times, sighing and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was clearly choosing to ignore your choice of disguise.

“I wouldn’t have to mess with your work if you chose to do things that were, you know, actually legal? You’re talented, Brushstroke. You could get paid to do murals or something instead of…” Deku gestured towards your latest creation. You were rather proud of it. It had taken a good amount of planning to manage to paint a fifty foot tall mural of pro hero Dynamight mooning the city with the bold caption ‘The Hero Commision can kiss my ass.’ It would be perfect if not for the red streak from where Deku had startled you. With a contemplative hum you shook your spray can and quickly turned the offending mark into a cartoonish lipstick print. Midoriya sighed heavily. “I’m standing right here, you know.”

“I know.” You grinned behind your mask. The voice distorter you used did nothing to hide your chipper tone. “I also know you like it. And you can’t tell me Dynamight wouldn’t love it. He literally said that on live interview!”

“Yes, but not with his pants down to his knees.”

You bent over, throwing your cans of spray paint and climbing gear into your duffle bag. It wouldn’t do for your nemesis to get his hands on some of the tools you used. Mei’s stamp was all over it.

“Which is such a shame. The man’s got cake for days.” You chuckled as Deku pulled a face.

He observed you, hands on his hips. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Away, obviously.” You said as you threw the strap of your dufflebag across you.

“And I’m just going to let you go?”

“Oh no. You’re going to chase me like you always do. And I’m going to escape like I always do. And it’s going to drive you crazy because you can’t figure out how I keep doing it.” You began stretching, exaggerating each movement.

“A teleportation quirk isn’t that hard to figure out.” Izuku began stretching as well, rolling his shoulders and popping joints.

“Guess again.” You sing songed, bouncing on your toes.

“Wouldn’t have to guess if you just told me.”

“But that’s no fun. Unfortunately, I do have to be going. Catch you later, hot stuff!” And with a sprint, you raced to the side of the building and jumped off before activating your quirk.

Time slowed around you. It was like you were hovering in the air instead of falling. Freeze Frame was a quirk you had learned to perfect over the years. Between the quirk and the assorted gadgets in your bag and on your person, it was definitely enough to baffle the number one pro hero. Speaking of, you better work quickly before your quirk wore off and splatted you across the sidewalk.

Freeze Frame was named after what your quirk looked like from the outside. It was as if you teleported, or you had frozen time around you for everyone except yourself. In reality, you were a speedster. When your quirk was active, you were able to move at speeds so fast you were undetectable to others, and to you it seemed like everything was paused in time. You probably could have been a phenomenal hero or villain if you wanted. But currently, it was much more fun to thwart a certain green haired man.

With a press of a button, you deployed a grappling hook, snagging it on the building across the alley. You swung over, keeping a countdown in your head. Would you be lucky enough and have time to…? Yes. There! A balcony door was cracked open slightly. You gracefully landed on the balcony and used the door to slip into what appeared to be someone’s bedroom, thankfully unoccupied at the moment. Taking no chances though, you slip into the closet just as the effects of your quirk wear off. The other reason you had never turned to heroism or villainy- no matter how much you trained, you could only keep your quirk activated for ten seconds at a time. It wasn’t a lot. Plus you could only activate your quirk a couple dozen times a day without getting seriously ill. But it still was usually more than enough to be able to give any law enforcement the slip. Just like now.

Deku curses as he runs to the edge of the roof. You’re nowhere to be seen. “Brushstroke! Get back here, you damn brat!” He shouted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. One of these days he was going to figure out your quirk and how to counteract it. And when that day comes he was going to take you over his knee and… No. He shook his head, blushing to clear his thoughts. What to do with you. Well, he wasn’t sure yet. You weren’t a villain, really. More of a public nuisance. The murals you did showed a lot of talent and a good chunk of the population agreed with the social commentary behind them. But that didn’t change that you had painted ten foot tall asscheeks on a building without permission. And, technically, it was within his job description to apprehend you. “Brushstroke!” Deku called again as he made his way down to the ground. There was no sign of you anywhere. Invisibility quirk maybe? Though it would be unusual if you could turn all the stuff you had been wearing and carrying invisible as well.

Meanwhile, as Izuku was getting lost in thought, you were getting naked. You stripped out of your gear and paint covered smock, moving as quickly as you dared while still remaining quiet in your hidden location. Just because the bedroom had been empty doesn’t mean the rest of the place was, after all. You shoved everything into your dufflebag, pulling out a clean set of clothing from a zippered pocket. Getting changed was a simple affair, as was ruffling your hair, messily getting it to look like a different style. One of your favorite tricks happened when you pushed a hidden button on the edge of your duffle bag. The previously dull gray bag quickly morphed into a loud riot of tye dyed color. Chameleon bags, Hatsume called them. Still in a prototype stage, your friend and employer would probably make a mint on them if you put them on the market. After a final brush off and deciding you looked acceptably civilian, you peeked out the closet door. The bedroom was still empty. You crept out slowly. The balcony wasn’t a feasible exit anymore. Not without the gear you had had to store away. You were going to have to sneak out the front door. You activated your quirk, feeling a little queasy at having to use it again so quickly in succession. It was simple to race through the apartment and out into the hall within your short time limit. In fact, with your speed, you were easily able to exit the entire apartment complex. You still had a few seconds to spare when you shot out the door. You grinned at seeing the number one pro hero standing in the middle of the street. You knew you shouldn’t do what you were thinking. Instead you should use your last few spare seconds to put some distance between yourself and the large, green haired man. Instead, you quickly dug around in your bag and found your tube of lipstick. You applied a nice thick coat as you waltzed up to him. With a giggle, you planted a firm smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a clear and perfect lip print. With a grin, you hurried back to the apartment complex. It was easy to make it seem like you were just coming out of the door as time snapped back to its proper speed. You watched, hiding your smirk as you observed the clearly frustrated hero scanning the crowds for any sign of you. His eyes passed right over you, barely giving you a glance. You almost felt hurt that he thought your normal look was that unremarkable. But that was the point, after all. As Deku continued to call out for your pseudonym, you turned and walked away, blending into the crowd. You were almost out of earshot when you heard a loud cursing exclamation that would have been more in character for a certain blond hero. You bite your knuckle to muffle your laughter. Someone had informed Deku of the lipstick mark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sipped from a bottle of water as you watched Mei work her magic. It was strangely relaxing to watch her in her element. Though it seemed chaotic the first few times you had witnessed your friend work, there was a clear method to the madness if you just knew where to look. And you knew exactly where to look now that you had been working with her for the past three years. You were simply listed as one of her assistants. Most days that involved a random jumble of cleaning, paperwork, schedule management, and coffee making. The real reason Hatsume loved having you around however, was days like this.

“Okay! Set!” She chirped happily. “You good to go now?”

You nodded as you slid down, and walked into the testing area. “Remind me what I’m looking for again?”

“Well, obviously the usual. Make sure it’s not lethal, of course. And then I want to make sure the grid is deploying at the right time. Should be about a quarter second after detonation.”

“As long as everything looks good, want me to be full blown dummy this time?”

Hatsume tilted her head, and considered a moment before nodding. “Yeah, should be fine. Have the explosive levels where they should be. If anything messes up it’s going to be the grid deploying too soon or too late and not restraining you right.”

You gave her a thumbs up as you got into position. She counted down, though that didn’t matter much to you, honestly. One of the best perks of your quirk was that it gave you insane reflexes. You waited until the moment you saw the detonation begin to happen and activated your quirk.

As usual, it felt like time slowed to a crawl around you. Hollywood directors would give a kidney to have access to the detailed slow motion you could experience every day for free. You walked around the device, looking it over. It was meant to be a capture aid for pro hero Cellophane, a small explosive that would shoot nets of tape in all directions. It had to be safe and effective. Better to have a few civilians stuck to the walls than to risk letting a villain escape, after all. You peered into the explosion that was slowly rippling outward. Everything looked good so far… Yep, there were the grids starting to deploy. Sure that everything was safe, you deactivated your quirk and instantly were thrown backward and stuck to a padded wall of the testing room.

“Looked great!” You called as Hatsume entered the room. “I think you’ve finally got it!”

While she cheered and began praising her baby for performing so well, you tried wiggling. No luck. You were stuck rather firmly. Apparently she had upped the strength of the adhesive. After a minute, Hatsume finally noticed your struggles.

“Oh good!” She chirped. “Looks like the new formula is holding up nicely. I mean, I still need to test it out against, like strength and fire quirks, but looking good so far.”

“Little help, please?” You ask, giving her a look.

“Maybe in a bit.” She said, turning her back and leaving you there, pinned. “Want to test how long it holds. Besides, I have some questions about your last escapade and how my babies held up.”

You let out a resigned sigh. Of course. Your friend had found out about your after hours hobby about a year and a half ago. Instead of discouraging you, it hadn’t surprised you that much when she blackmailed you. She wouldn’t tell the police or heroes…. If you used some of her experimental babies on your future excursions. You had been dubious. Hatsume’s babies could be a little dangerous in the prototype stage. But it ended up working great! Your pieces went from small tagging jobs to huge fifty foot murals. Though that had caught the attention of a few public figures, including a certain green haired pain in your ass.

“I didn’t use anything directly against Deku this time.” You sighed, going limp to test if the tape would hold your weight. It did. “Grappling hook works great. The painter drones are okay for filling in large areas, but aren’t able to do clean lines well. The gecko boots continue to be amazing, but the gloves need a lot of work. The control for when they release still isn’t great.”

Hatsume nodded, quickly making notes about everything you said. There was a bit of a quick back and forth where she asked questions and you answered. Though ten minutes passed and you were still stuck to the wall. She eventually sets her notes aside and turns to face you fully. “So,” she drawls. “You saw Deku again.”

“I always see Deku nowadays!” You groan. “I swear Mei, if I find out you’re tipping him off or something...”

“Aww, come on! He’s nice! Would you rather be dealing with Dynamight?”

You frowned, not meeting her gaze. “I mean, the variety might be nice?”

“You like that with the help of my babies you’re able to out fox the number one pro hero, admit it!”

“It might be a little satisfying,” you mutter.

“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s hot either! Heard you two get all flirty during chases. The tabloids loved the kiss mark, by the way. Enjoy finally kissing him?”

“Hatsume!” you groan. “Subject change, please! Anything else!”

“Anything?” she grins at you.

“Oh god, I’m going to regret this.”

“It’s not that bad, I promise! Just, would you be interested in a blind date?”

You blink. “A date?”

“Yeah! One of my friends from school has a lot of trouble meeting people organically. You know how the industry is. Ridiculous schedules, maintaining reputation, trying to make sure they like you for you and aren’t just a fan.”

“Yeah… I guess I can understand that.”

“Well, I just think you and him would be a great fit! He’s a huge nerd in a lot of the same ways you are, but a real good guy once you get past the awkward. Plus,” Hatsume dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper “I happen to know for a fact that he’s a fan of Brushstroke’s work.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “You know it’s extortion to try to get me to agree when you have me literally taped to a wall.”

“I know!” Hatsume chirped happily. “So are you going to agree? I made the adhesive pretty strong this time. Who knows how long it would take to wear off on it’s own?”

“Bitch!” You can’t help laughing. “Alright, alright, I’ll go. Just get me down from here!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You fidgeted with the ring you were wearing as you stared at the building in front of you. Maybe it wasn’t too late to bail? You don’t know exactly what you had been expecting when Hatsume had told you about the somewhat shy, nerdy man she had set you up with, but you hadn’t expected him to choose the fanciest restaurant in town as your date location. You were wearing your best and still felt underdressed. Well, if the date was a disaster, at least you knew what building you were going to spray paint next. The glistening white exterior would make for a great canvas. You chuckled quietly at your own thoughts.

Squaring your shoulders, you took a deep breath and marched in. You could do this. You were an infamous tagger. You faced off against the number one pro hero regularly. Your day job was working with Hatsume. You’ve got this. With an air of newfound confidence, you gave your name to the maitre d. It was a surprise when you were led through the restaurant to one of their private curtained rooms. This guy you’d been set up with was apparently going all out. Maybe you were going to like him after all, you thought as you were ushered in. Then you looked up.

Fuck.

Standing to greet you with a stupidly flustered look on his damn stupid handsome face was your nemisis. The number one thorn in your proverbial side. The giant broccoli himself.

That BITCH had set you up with Izuku Midoriya!

You froze. In the back of your mind you were aware that your mouth was hanging open. The green haired man shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Hi,” he said quietly, scratching the back of his head.

You continued to stare.

He cleared his throat, glancing to the side. “Sorry about the secrecy, but I think it’s understandable.”

You nodded weakly.

Izuku bit his lip. You realized with a start that he might be even more nervous than you are. As much as you planned to murder Hatsume later, this wasn’t Midoriya’s fault. You could get through this date at least. Eat some expensive food, drink the best wines, make some meaningless conversation, say your goodbyes, and then go home to plot the demise of your former best friend. Long, slow painful demise. Good thing about being an artist, you had lots of traps, so clean up should be easy. Looking at the worried expression on Izuku’s face, you realize with a start that you still haven’t actually said anything to him. You open your mouth to offer some sort of generic greeting. But what comes out is-

“I’m going to fucking murder Mei!”

Izuku blinks. Blinks again. Then he starts laughing loudly. He leans one hand on the table as he cackles. You stare before starting to chuckle yourself. Soon you’re both wheezing with laughter. You both slump into your seats, trying to collect yourselves. Midoriya speaks first.

“Yeah, I… I get that. I’d think that’s a common emotion when hanging around Hatsume.”

You can’t help your smile. “Only at least half of the time. But that’s what makes it fun. No one else like her.”

“That’s for sure.” Izuku leaned back in his seat, looking you over like he’s studying you. “So, I suppose we should actually introduce ourselves. I’m Izuku Midoriya. I do hero work.”

You laugh. “Y/N Y/L/N. I work for Mei and freelance art when I can.”

“Art, huh? What kind of stuff do you do?”

You’re briefly interrupted by the arrival of the first course. After the waiter leaves, Deku apologies. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to order for you, but this is one of those places where you pay them and they tell you what you’re going to eat.”

“It’s fine.” You say as you stare at the delicate wisp of some sort of thinly shaved vegetable with a dollop of strangely colored foam on top.

“You were saying what kind of art you do?” Deku cautiously was poking at the tiny fancy appetizer.

“A few different things really, but my passion is mural work. Latest job was in a maid cafe. They wanted something cute and floral, but they let me do what I wanted within that theme.”

The night continued on and was surprisingly easy. The food was delicious, the wine was better, and you were pleasantly surprised by the company. Maybe it was the wine softening you up, but as you looked across the table where Izuku was animatedly talking about how influential All Might’s example had been for him, you admitted to yourself that the green haired man was very handsome. And funny. And interesting. And you were trying very hard not to think about the way Midoriya’s large scarred hand wrapped around the delicate wine glass. It was a surprise when the final course was finished and Izuku was quietly taking care of the bill. He escorted you out of the building and you both stood awkwardly outside. Deku cleared his throat.

“If it’s not presuming too much, I’m not quite ready for tonight to end. Is it alright if I walk you home?”

“I’d like that. Like that a lot, actually.”

He smiled at you, and it was like the sun. You walked and talked animatedly. The conversation was so easy and fun, and a little flirty. Somewhere along the way your hands brushed together and holding hands became the most natural thing in the world. Time flew by as you walked together, your true destination long forgotten. You were only brought back to reality when out of the corner of your eye you saw a massive mural of pro hero asscheeks. When Izuku saw what you were looking at, he groaned.

“Could you please not check out my friend’s ass while we’re on a date?” He joked, gently elbowing your ribs. You laughed.

“I mean, you can’t blame me. It’s hard to miss.” You made a mental note to tell Mei that her paint formula was holding up beautifully.

“It’s a little embarrassing. Brushstroke is talented and all, but every mural is a time I couldn’t catch them.”

Maybe it was the wine still buzzing through your system. Maybe it was the thrill of it. Maybe you just wanted to see those beautiful green eyes widen. But you couldn’t help the next words out of your mouth.

“Well you might have an easier time if you ever actually figured my quirk out.”

“Yeah I…” He stopped. Stared. “You…” He stared harder, pulling away slightly as he looked your figure up and down. “You!!!”

“Surprise?” You laughed, and grinned at him. He was always so handsome when he was angry. You weren’t scared at all as he hauled you close.

“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?”

“Pretty good idea, actually.”

“You’ve been leading me on goose chases for months!”

You grinned “Yes, will be our anniversary soon.”

Izuku groaned as he wrapped his arms around your waste. “You irredeemable brat!”

You would have replied, but in the next second he was fiercely smashing his mouth against yours. The kiss started harsh and desperate. The results of months of teasing and flirting. It gentled as the two of you stood there in the night, soft and sweet and full of affection the two of you had yet to put into words. The thought occurred to you that you’d have to thank Mei later. Your eyes opened as the two of you pulled away for breath. You started giggling almost immediately. Izuku pressed his forehead against yours.

“What’s so funny, darling?”

You smirked. “I never thought we’d have our first kiss while being mooned by Dynamight.”

Izuku groaned loudly before sweeping you up into his arms. You squawked and clung to him.

“That’s it.” He rumbled. “I’m going to spank you when I get you home, you fucking brat.”

“Promise?” you giggled.

You didn’t mind in the least when he shut you up with another kiss.

[mercy-burning]

Sunday Morning

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader’s Sunday opens up, so she concocts a little plan to pass the time. PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE Category: Smut 18+ This one is pure filth, y’all, buckle up (dom!Spencer, female masturbation, oral sex- male receiving, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, spitting, multiple orgasms) Warnings: sex, strong language (As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in the warnings. I always want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 3.6k

NOTE: The more I add to this little series the more excited I get to keep writing it, and it really helps that you all seem to like every new addition, so thank you for all the love! I do have a few more tricks up my sleeve, and I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I do. Part 4 is set to come out either tomorrow or Monday! I hope you enjoy 🥰

***

"Are you sure, Mom? I can still try to come earlier if you want, I don't have anything going on."

Y/N's mother sighed on the other end of the line. "No, that's alright. But I made sure to have off next weekend, so I'll come by your place and we can celebrate then. How's that sound?"

She smiled, happy at the prospect of seeing her mother again soon, but something else crossed her mind that deemed this cancellation a blessing in disguise. "That sounds great. I love you. Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, Sweetie. I love you, too."

She thought about knocking on Spencer's door the second she hung up the phone, but decided that she wanted to have a little more fun, so she hurried to her bedroom. As she grabbed something from the bedside table drawer and planted herself in bed, she felt just the smallest sliver of guilt for being this excited about her mom cancelling their plans. But for one thing they had next weekend, and for another she'd been thinking about her neighbor non-stop since Friday night.

After they had finished their laundry that night, Spencer and Y/N walked up to their hall together and ended up in the shower. They slept in separate places, though, Y/N stumbling back into her apartment at around nine thirty and immediately going to bed. Early, maybe, but she'd just been fucked twice in a row, and the second time had lasted about an hour and a half since they didn't have to worry about anyone walking in and interrupting. Truthfully it was a wonder she could walk at all these days, but she didn't mind either way. Who knew listening in on your neighbor having sex and them finding out about it could turn into something so good?

Which brought Y/N back to the present. Sunday morning. She knew Spencer was an early riser, so he'd definitely be awake. Whether he'd be in bed was another thing, but she decided to take her chances.

So she leaned back against the headboard, spread her legs, and clicked on her vibrator. The familiar buzzing sound sent a jolt of excitement through her body, only made more electric when it made contact with her clit. She pressed it lightly, the setting still low as she closed her eyes. With her goal in mind, it didn't really take long to start feeling something, images and flashbacks of Spencer's head between her legs only adding to the sensations.

"Ohhh," she let out loudly at a particular memory that involved him fingering her in the shower. His lips had been biting and sucking at the skin on her neck while his middle and ring fingers worked inside her, the heel of his hand grinding against her clit. If she thought hard enough, she could be there then, the sound of the vibrator replaced with the hum of the shower.

"Oh, Spencer, please!" she echoed, squeezing her eyes shut and moving the vibrator in small circles around her clit. "Fuck, you feel so good!" At this point she was so lost in the memories that she didn't even remember why she'd started doing this. She was being loud, moaning and sighing as she played out her Friday night in her mind without even trying to get anyone's attention. At this point it was purely for her enjoyment.

Though, that sentiment didn't last very long, because just as she was about to orgasm, her phone buzzed. She could have ignored it, but completely pulled herself out of her fantasy once she realized that it could have been her mother.

Groaning from irritation rather than pleasure, she clicked off the vibrator, set it on the bed, and picked up her phone.

When she saw it, her heart stopped.

From: Spencer Reid Not another sound. Call me for instructions.

"Holy fuck," Y/N gasped, scrambling to hit the 'call' button. It took no time at all for Spencer to answer.

Before she could say anything, his voice rung low on the other end of the line, sending a chill through her body. "Do you want me to come over?"

"Yes," she breathed without a second thought.

"Okay. Is your door unlocked?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause, and for a moment Y/N thought maybe he was leaving his apartment and on his way over, but then he spoke again. "When I get there I want to see you naked and on your knees, facing the wall. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

The sound she heard him make was guttural, somewhere between a growl and a moan, and it shot straight through every bone and muscle in her body. He hung up then, and Y/N practically threw her phone across the room and scrambled to her knees, ripping what little clothing she had off her body and bracing her hands against the headboard. She expected him to be there in a flash, but after waiting for about five minutes, it was obvious that this was part of his game— making her wait. An involuntary whimper escaped her throat at the thought of what he could possibly have planned for her.

When the door sounded from the living room, Y/N jolted, her heartbeat picking up and her hands gripping the headboard so tightly that her knuckles ached. Did she dare turn her head around to see him when he walked in? If she did, what would he do to punish her? Would he punish her at all?

For a moment she wondered if she'd even heard the door at all, because again, it took forever for him to get there. But then she heard a soft groan sounding from the bedroom door and her breath hitched in her throat.

"Oh, good girl. Look at you..."

His words, his voice... Y/N let out a shaky breath and bit her lip, wondering if she should speak. Eventually, she did. "W-what took you so long?"

Spencer laughed behind her, still not in view. "I had to make you wait, pretty girl. Where would be the fun in just giving you what you want?"

She didn't know what to say. So she silently waited for instruction, her hands loosening around the headboard just a little, trying to relax.

He got closer, and it sounded like he was stripping layers of clothing as he did so. Eventually he reached the side of her bed and she turned her head to meet his gaze, immediately letting out a soft whimper at the sight of him. He had, indeed, been stripping clothing as he made his way to her, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips and dropping his shirt to the ground. Y/N let her gaze travel along his body before meeting his eyes and almost falling to pieces when she did.

This amused him. "Already so eager, pretty girl? I haven't even done anything yet."

She wasn't sure what to say, so she told the truth. "Just you being here is enough. You've completely ruined me."

Spencer laughed and brought his hand out to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand, to which she sighed and closed her eyes "Not yet."

She opened her eyes again at that promise, and just by looking at him, she practically pleaded with him to do something, every inch of her body, mind, and soul completely blinded by his presence.

Seeming to take pity on her, or maybe just because seeing her like this was driving him mad, she wasn't sure, Spencer obliged, leaning forward and kissing her deeply. As per usual, she melted into him, struggling to keep her weight up on her knees. Her hands gripped onto the headboard for dear life as he brought his face closer, using both his hands to cradle her face and his tongue to open her mouth. She'd already decided long ago that she would give him anything he wanted, and this was no different. He kissed her wildly and she kissed him back with the same fervor, groaning into his mouth every so often. At one point she lost her balance and fell forward, pulling Spencer onto the bed, and he broke away, a laugh playing at his lips right after.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, slightly embarrassed.

"Don't be sorry," he reassured, climbing up the bed and reaching for her hands. He was laying on his side now, pulling her towards him, and butterflies erupted in her stomach at the wholesomeness of it all. It was like the entire mood shifted from being domineeringly sexy to sweetly intimate.

Spencer all but pulled Y/N on top of him, rolling over on his back and forcing her to straddle his lap when he pulled her down for another kiss. The fabric of his sweatpants grazed her bare clit as she moved, making her rock her hips forward and causing him to groan into her mouth. He broke the kiss apart for a moment to say, "Keep doing that, pretty girl," and then resumed kissing her, barely giving her time to process his words.

In the end she did it anyway, grinding down on him and moaning as she did so, every movement slowly but surely bringing her closer to orgasm again. She was so caught up in the feeling that she didn't notice Spencer grabbing the vibrator still on her bed until she heard it turn on, that familiar buzzing pulling her from her haze.

She broke apart from him, cheeks red. "I totally forgot to put that away, I'm so— oh!"

Before she could finish her apology, Spencer had the vibrator pressed to her clit, and she closed her eyes, instinctively grinding down for more friction. This in turn caused him to let up, pulling the vibrator away just a little, and she whined.

"God, I love hearing how needy you are, baby," he breathed, teasing her. "Can't you feel it?" Every time Y/N rocked her hips, she could feel his cock getting harder through his pants, it had been unmistakable. When she didn't respond with words, he brought the vibrator away and reiterated, "Don't you feel it?"

"Yes, I love feeling how hard your cock gets for me," she breathed, grinding down on it and hoping for him to respond in kind. When he did, she gasped, opening her eyes and bracing her hands on his bare chest. "Fuck, you know how to make me feel so good."

"That's what I like to hear. Now get up for me." He pulled the vibrator away once more and she whined again at the loss of contact, but got up nonetheless. "Sit up on your knees and put your back against the headboard, okay? I want to fuck that pretty little throat."

Don't have to tell me twice, she thought greedily as she did as she was told. Spencer moved the pillows out of her way and tossed them to the foot of the bed as she sat on her knees. The cool metal of the headboard somewhat calmed the heat radiating off of her body, though ultimately it couldn't dwell the heat she felt when he looked at her, standing on the bed and sliding down his pants and underwear in one fluid motion before kicking them to the side, holding her gaze the entire time.

Just as Y/N was about to lean forward, he placed a hand on her head, gripping some of her hair and tilting her head up to really look at him. "Not yet. Give me your hands." She held them out to him, unsure of what he was planning, but when he gathered them both in one hand and pinned them to the wall above her head, she bit her lip. The grin he wore gave her shivers, just before he said, "Open up wide, pretty girl."

She licked her lips and then opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out and down as far as it would go to make room as she stared up at his face. The second his dick touched her tongue she groaned, ready for whatever he was about to give her. If she tried to bob her head, it would hit the headboard rather hard, so she opted to stay still, letting Spencer get off on his own terms. Which they both seemed to be happy with, because every time he hit the back of her throat, she moaned, nearly gagging, and in turn he bit his lip and tightened his grip in her hair and on her wrists.

"You always take my cock so well, fuck," he groaned, quickening his pace. She didn't know what feeling she was trying to convey as she did so, but nonetheless she hummed around him, trying her best not to choke but ultimately failing. He pulled away for a moment, releasing her hair from his grip and letting her breathe for all of two seconds before tapping his dick on her tongue a few times in quick succession. The action made her moan, and against her better judgement, she leaned forward to take him in her mouth again, hollowing her cheeks. Her wrists strained against his hands as he grinned. "You liked that, huh?"

She got out a 'mhmm' around his cock quickly before he thrusted forward and hit the back of her throat again, sending her head against the metal of the headboard. She winced a little in pain, but welcomed it all the same, looking up at him through hooded eyes and trying to tell him without words that she wanted this more than anything.

It seems like he got the memo, because he brushed the hair from her face in a sweet gesture that completely contradicted what he was doing to her mouth. He gave a few more purposeful thrusts, holding himself down her throat for a few seconds before pulling away completely and letting go of her wrists. Spit dripped down her chin as she caught her breath, but she smiled all the same, bringing her hands down to wipe the wetness from her face and some of the tears on her cheeks. "I love when you use me like that, baby," she purred, rubbing her legs together and running her tongue over her bottom lip.

Spencer leaned down and kissed her again, pulling her up to stand with him before pushing her against the wall, her legs hitting the headboard. She moaned into his mouth and brought her hands up to comb through his hair, to which he sighed and pressed into her harder. The weight of him made Y/N all warm and safe as she realized she would spend the rest of her life wrapped up in him if she could. Yes, their relationship as of late had been inherently sexual in nature, but something about the way he took precise care with her body as he kissed her like this, cradling her face in his large hands and keeping himself as close as he could get, made Y/N weak. She trusted Spencer Reid with her life, and she could only hope that he felt the same way, even if just a little.

Though she was a little disappointed when he broke the kiss, what he did next took that disappointment and pummeled it to the ground, transforming it into hunger.

His thumb ran over her lips before pushing further into her mouth. She gladly took it, swirling her tongue around it and then groaning as he brought it out, running it down her chin and tilting her head up to look at him.

"How do you want it, pretty girl?" he asked softly, making her practically crumble beneath him.

The question itself and the way he said it was hot as hell. But there was no way she would have been able to choose. Truthfully, he could do it any way and she'd just as easily give up everything to experience it again. Even as she tried quickly to come up with something, blurting out anything, all that came out was, "However you want me." It was the pure, unabashed truth.

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment before simply scooping her up from her feet, kneeling down, and laying her on her back. His dominating presence seemed to take over again as he scooted her to him by her legs. She yelled out as he wrapped them promptly around his shoulders and pushed into her without a second thought. He went easy at first, taking his time getting to just be inside her again, but Y/N wanted more.

"Fuck me harder," she moaned out desperately, reaching out to grab the blankets.

A dark chuckle left Spencer's mouth as he leaned forward, stretching her legs closer to her chest and angling himself deeper inside her. All the while, his pace never slowed or increased, and neither did his pressure. "You're getting greedy, pretty girl. But you're gonna take what I give you. Guess you should have thought of that before you let me choose how to fuck you."

And at that sentiment, he leaned forward even further, slamming into her hard, and Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the sensation. He pulled out slow and did it again, and again, and again, each time pushing her farther into the mattress.  Upon seeing her squeezed shut eyes and open mouth, he said, "Is this what you wanted? Huh? To be fucked like a whore?"

She opened her eyes and bit her lip as he picked up the pace a little, every stroke sending shots of fire through her veins. She tried to speak but her brain was muddled, every thought clouded by the intense pleasure her body was experiencing. Spencer noticed this, and with a small laugh reached his hand out and grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open as he went faster. "Aww, the little slut can't even speak, I've been fucking her so good. Is that right?"

Her only answer was a moan as he went deeper and faster, hitting her g-spot with every thrust forward, to which he laughed again.

"Tongue out, baby," he demanded sweetly, leaning forward. Y/N knew exactly what he was going to do, and she eagerly did as she was told, her eyes lighting up as she did. Watching, and then feeling Spencer spit directly on her tongue, feeling it slide down as she swallowed it, only added to her pleasure, and she knew it wouldn't be long until she fell over the edge.

"I-I'm..." was all she could manage to get out.

"Go ahead, pretty girl, let it all out."

And so she did, letting out a string of yells that barely resembled his name. But he wasn't done yet, and so even after she'd come down he continued his brutal pace inside of her and brought himself closer, caressing her face as he did so. The discomfort shortly morphed into painful pleasure as Y/N approached another high.

"You gonna give me another one? I know you can take it." And as if those words weren't enough, he added something that sent a chill through her. "It's a shame you're not on birth control, because I'd love nothing more than to fill up that slutty little pussy. Make you mine."

Just like that, she was gone, her eyes squeezed shut and seeing stars dance behind them as she came another time. It only lasted a few seconds shorter than her previous orgasm, but Spencer pulled out and away, dangerously close to his own. She composed herself, slowly opening her eyes to see him jerking off over her. In a split second decision, she opened her mouth and groaned, without words telling him exactly what she wanted. And he was more than happy to give it to her, removing her legs from his shoulders and moving up her body with the slyest grin she'd seen from him yet.

"That's a good girl," he got out just before she felt his cum coat her mouth. While most of it slid down the back of her tongue and pooled in the back of her throat, a little missed and landed on her cheek, but she smiled nonetheless, welcoming its warmth. When he was done, panting above her, she brought her tongue out to swirl around the head of his cock before swallowing and smiling back at him

She was about to wipe the cum off her cheek, but before she could get to it, Spencer was on her, leaning down and doing the unexpected. She whined as he brought his tongue down and scooped it off her cheek, then moving to her mouth and kissing her, practically feeding himself to her. As they continued making out like that, her head swam. She swore with every new second she spent with him, she was getting more and more invested, craving him in almost every capacity. So when he pulled away, breaking their kiss and laying down beside her, she scooted closer to him, longing to feel him all around her.

"I don't know how every time gets better and better," she mumbled against his chest, and she felt him laugh.

"What can I say, pretty girl, you give me all sorts of good ideas."

That made her blush, and she snuggled closer to him, their legs tangling together. The two of them stayed like that for a while, comfortable silence settling between them before Spencer spoke, pulling away slightly to look at her face.

"Hey, I was thinking... You don't have to say yes if you don't want to, but I... I wanted to know if you'd maybe want to go to dinner sometime?"

Despite the butterflies blooming in her stomach, Y/N laughed playfully. "You would fuck me senseless and then ask me to dinner all sweetly," she mused, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing her nose against his. "I'd love to."

Spencer let out a sigh, whether from relief or contentment she wasn't sure. Maybe both. But it filled her heart with joy all the same.

"Good," he said, pressing a small kiss to her lips. "It's a date."

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt. 7)

(Hybrid au) (YoonMinJoon x Reader) (Mafia au) 

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers, hidden in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks, but he only has until the end of the summer. 

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok, 

Genre: Hybrid au, Polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy, Mafia au

Tags:  Domestic abuse, references to sexual abuse- and choosing to have sex even though you’ve been through sa, physical abuse, polyamory negotiations, Post-traumatic stress disorder, mute characters, brief gore at the end, pregnant m/c, frottage, marking kink, fingering, oral f. receiving, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied death but dont worry I do not write MCD!!!!

A/n: just for posterity's sake! i was drunk when i posted this! enjoy! full gangbang comes in (y/n) next chapter! (oh god im going to hell).

W/c: 10.5k

Song Rec: Like Real People do ~ Hozier

~ Series Masterlist ~

2 Years Earlier

-  If Jeon Jungkook where so esoterically inclined, he would write a book on how he had become the most dangerous man in the underworld. It would be a short book though; because Jungkook had only 2 rules for himself. The first was to always get up after he’d been hit during a fight (even if it took him a second) and the second was to know when to mind his own business. 

- Jungkook was always able to get up after being hit, Even when he’d been a street kid, with not a penny to his name and a whole lot of anger in his mouth. ready to spit vitriol at anyone who would pause and listen. He’d always been able to get up. The pain giving him a kind of sick clarity that he eventually sought out instead of tried to escape. Jungkook could never think as clearly as he did during a fight; or when he was in pain. And that was probably because of his father. 

- But whatever. That man was 6 feet under, (his mother on the other hand- no- that bitch certainly had more than one dept to pay still). He didn’t have a lot of time or energy to put into dealing with that particular trauma (why he honestly felt like sometimes- he liked being hit). Most of his energy went into staying alive. Even now- when living and surviving teetered on the same edge. Jungkook had more pressing matters to tend to than dealing with his own fragile mind. 

- The way he would get up and hop around for a second to soak in the clarity after being hit during a scuffle was one of the reasons why he’d been given his street name: The Playboy Bunny; further set in stone with his tattoo of the same moniker under his left eye. A cheekbone he’d tap and say “you want to hit me? why don’t you try your luck and see how well it turns out for you.” 

- He was doing reconnaissance, Sneaking around the back alley with his hood up and his glasses on- disguising his black eye that was sure to get more than a few looks from passers-by. The ears of the playboy bunny tattoo peeking out over the top of his mask. 

- He keeps his eyes on the crowd waiting for some sort of handoff- to see anything at all. But he’d lost his target through the crowd and has no drive to find them in the dizzying rush of people and umbrellas. Not yet. Not when the hum of addiction lurks in his veins. 

- Jungkook pauses lighting a cigarette, when a commotion to the side hidden around a corner- blurs his concentration. The world snapping back into focus when he sinks his fingernails into his palm. Terse voices. A couple fighting in the alleyway perpendicular to his. 

- Minding his own business was a particular skill of his- it took one kind of person to know when to step in, and another to know which problems weren't worth the headache. And unless it involved the acquisition money or some step therein, it wasn’t a problem worth getting into in Jungkook’s opinion.

- But Jungkook can’t stop his ears from hearing snippets of conversation, a low and angry male voice. The sound of a smack. “You just had to embarrass me like that, didn’t you? First, you come out dressed like a slob and then you act like a fucking whore- I swear if I see you give eyes to another man this week I'll beat you five ways to Sunday”

- The sound of a soft female voice, so quiet- almost indistinguishable from the pouring rain, “I wasn’t-” another smack.

- Jungkook has been hit so many times he knows the sound of it, the ragged gasp the woman lets out, also quite- like even the pain takes up too much space. 

- His body starts to move before his mind thinks it through as he gives up position in favor of investigating the noise. There he sees it, ivy growing up the wall next to the back exit of some restaurant. A woman, small crouching in front of a grotesque man. A baggy coat buttoned tight around her small form. hair swept back in a tight bun. Red lipstick smudged. Though you check your hands and think its blood for a moment before you remember you’re wearing it. 

- Jungkook waits for a moment before he watches you stand on shaky legs. you get up. 

- The rest of the underworld might be old grudges and blood feuds but Jungkook was only here to be a businessman. He didn’t have time for ego and arrogance, let alone time for altruism... 

- Usually. 

- He looks on for a moment, too sluggish without nicotine, but Jungkook’s lingering stare almost seems to spur the man on. He’s wearing a jacket with a military patch, a badge; some sort of congratulation for service done no doubt. and Jungkook feels his distaste for the man deepen. 

- “What you looking at punk?” he slurs. Stalking forward as if to shove Jungkook. He almost wants to tut- that would be an expensive action. Jungkook wonders if the man is maybe high or drunk or both. He’s has had his fair share of experience with junkies and he knows one when he sees one. 

- “Nothing, just a pig beating his girlfriend.” The man settles for shoving Jungkook back. And Jungkook lets him. You don’t look up, don’t do anything but lean to the side, like the brick wall is the only thing keeping you up. Jungkook sees the back of your hand, black and blue, the other bruises on your neck. You only make eye contact with him once. Just slightly. Barely in passing.  

- You look like Jungkook used to look. He remembers in the savage bite of an open-handed slap- the fear he sees in your eyes. He looks and looks. And it aches so viscerally as Jungkook watches you go, your hurt echoes through him. You look beaten down and broken like Jungkook used too; before he’d decided he was done taking punches from people who were supposed to love him- Were supposed to care. 

- (Before he realized life wasn't supposed to hurt) 

- He’s never been one to feel things for other people, the empathy sparing him through most of the suffering he’s seen. It’s not that he’s unfeeling; it’s just that Jungkook’s life has forced him to feel concerned only for himself and no one else. His own survival is his first priority; Not others. 

- He watches you walk away, And you don’t look back at him. Rushing to keep up with your husband's steps. He waits until you disappear into the crowd before he lifts his phone to his ear and makes a call. “Hey, I need you to flag all of the cars that leave the parking lot, they’re just a couple, should be coming to you soon.”

- Jeon Jungkook had become the most powerful man in the underworld because of two reasons; by being able to take punches, and by knowing when to mind his own business. 

- But For this, Jungkook thinks he can make an exception.

- (You won't remember meeting Jeon Jungkook, but Jungkook will always remember you).

~.~

Now

-It comes as no surprise that your little speech fades after a few days and the rest of the hybrids quick to return to treating Yoongi with a mix of disdain and fear. Though mostly- this seems to be caused by Minhyung's group and the other canine hybrids. Namjoon hears them whispering about ‘favoritism’ before they catch on that he’s listening in. And in the days following your impromptu departure from the farm, you find people quiet even further whenever Yoongi's brought up. Staring when Yoongi comes close, afraid to interact with him.

- Even Jimin is greeted mostly with silence from all but a few. The bunny hybrids don’t act so skittish anymore, and the cat hybrids could care less used to sticking to their own group. Taehyung seems to have encouraged the other bear hybrids to make an actual effort and they at least say hello now. It’s better than the derisive comments of the dog hybrids, or the snooty noses stuck high in the air of the dear hybrids and other exotic breeds. 

- They know Jimin is close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and now he feels even more like an outsider that before (somehow it doesn't matter as much as before). The only ones who don’t act overtly different are the new hybrids; Hoseok and the small lion hybrid. but They were never around to learn how to hate Yoongi in the first place.

- it's a little cute- the way that Hoseok will always shout Yoongi's name in greeting (though you're unsure if that's just his personality now that he's started to grow into himself). Hoseok is unbothered by Yoongi's reaction; to shy away from anything that will draw more attention to himself. But Hoseok's smile is so bright and elastic that even he has a hard time ignoring the otter hybrid. You hope there will be a friendship there eventually, that yoongi will open up to more than just your group. 

- The little lion kit is a new addition too, she's not the only young feline hybrid you have at the farm but she is the friendliest. She gets pretty close to the other cats that work in the kitchen almost instantly. Probably on account of her young age (she's barely 7) and the eldest cat hybrid seems to be particularly fond of the little one.

- She's curious and kind to Yoongi too- excitedly running up to him more than once to show him a little rock or some flower she found- and yoongi will marvel and nod, and if Jimin is near- he'll lean close and tell her how pretty it is. 

- She doesn't seem at all deterred by Yoongi's lack of voice. one day she even sees Jimin, her ears perking up excitedly, tail swishing. "Hello Yoonies voice!" it's a little cute- even if it does make yoongi splutter a little. But she's not exactly wrong; Jimin does talk for yoongi more these days. 

- She Always comes bounding up to you and giggling happily to be picked up. Her little legs stretching around your waist, small bottom sat atop your baby bump. Making you get the kind of look that makes Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin sigh and look impossibly fond. They can only imagine what you’re going to be like once your little one is born. Your due date is barely 2 months away.

- In truth- you’re starting to get a little bit big. You say it one morning with Namjoon. After he asks you why you’re looking into the mirror with such a displeased expression. The sound of your terse voices alerts Yoongi and he comes to the door to your bedroom to witness your spat. Making a flippant hand movement at Namjoon to back off. Namjoon could smell your distress on you when you looked in the mirror, his voice tense but breaking. “Baby just tell me, why you think you’re not beautiful like that? let me understand. Cuz to me- you look more irresistible every day.”

- It’s not that you exactly wanted him to agree with you that you were nearing the size of a whale- but this doesn’t help at all either. His unending insistence- doesn’t he see? when he looks in the mirror doesn’t he see what you do? His instance that everything is alright doesn't help when you’re feeling this self-conscious.

- Yoongi helps you, fiddling with Namjoon’s closet for a second before he pulls out an extra-large white shirt of his and helps you into it- tying it loosely over your baby bump so that it flatters your waist a little more. The attention that Yoongi shows you clearly making you flustered. Then he drags you to the mirror, tugging your hair out of its bun, the tension going out of your shoulders.

- Yoongi doesn’t know it, but Namjoon does. Your late husband used to always be so particular about your hair, yanking on it harshly if it was left down. and An easy way to avoid him yanking on it was to leave it up. And sometimes you still pull it up convinced it’s safer even though he’s dead and gone. It’s scary how simple it is- but the second your hair comes down your whole body relaxes.

- All the while Namjoon watches from your bed. And you take in yourself, the baby hairs free-floating against your forehead; Yoongi curls one gently around his finger and then lets it go. You take in the way that the fabric hangs now, making you look a little more proportional, Yoongi gives you a satisfied smile behind your back and you have to sigh and admit it. “Okay- okay- I’ll give you this- I’m not a whale”

- “And even if you where you’d be a pretty whale.” Yoongi has the good sense to hurl a pillow in Namjoon’s direction, but it makes you laugh all the same- the heaviness in your chest abated a little. Your sleeve brushing Yoongi’s as you head downstairs, Namjoon trailing behind.

- The beach trip was a nice distraction from chores but the real work comes crashing down on them the next few days. Your little group feels closer than ever, you rarely part from any of them for long and their intention, their little acts of care never fail to make you feel flustered and taken care of.

- Jimin always holds out a hand for you to take when you’re stepping over uneven ground, Yoongi makes a startled noise whenever you so much as get close to a hose that might trip you, always gesturing for you to pause and take a break whenever you’re working in the garden. Namjoon too, always running back and forth from whatever project he’s working on to check on you and make sure you have water or food.

- At night, Namjoon takes your stretch mark cream from you, rubbing down your baby bump and your hips, the little lines of lighter skin on your waist get little kisses from him.  

- Even if you want just a snack, Namjoon and Yoongi will bring you a full meal- convinced that you need to be eating more than you are. At dinner Yoongi fills up your plate- piling it high with more food then you could fit in your already crowded tummy. And he always eyes you suspiciously when you can’t finish the full plate. Namjoon too will level you with a look- asking if you really are full. 

- Since your pregnancy has progressed, you’ve become a little moodier, and a little hornier whenever way the wind blows. And Namjoon doesn’t help that much at all- and by that you mean, he makes it worse. When he comes out of the field with his shirt off and tucked into his shorts all of his thickness, his muscles that make you ravenous. 

- During lunch one day he drags you away to a forgotten tool shed, though it would be easier just to go up the hill to your bedroom- you feel like teenagers sneaking around like this. 

- Namjoon presses into you as he hits the latch on the door, muffling your giggles with kisses as you hide from the hybrids outside, voices that you can dimly hear, unable to pick out any one particular yet- but you know they're there. 

- You and Namjoon might bicker like an old married couple. But you also act like teenagers gooey and giggly and so so so in love. “Do you think that they can hear you like this? Or smell you, my love?” Namjoon is always quick to tell you how delectable you smell when you’re horny. His more sensitive nose-picking it up the second you feel a slickening between your thighs.

- You’re shaky when you respond. “I don’t know, maybe?” Namjoon always has this passionate intense air about him. He’s slightly possessive- but you’d never fault him for that not when it’s all about protecting and providing for you. Not when he always puts your pleasure first (you feel like you may have turned into a slight pillow princess with him). 

- Namjoon heaves you up onto the edge of a bench and then gets on his knees. Gently lifting your leg over his shoulder. He’s always mindful of how much you can move in your swollen state. He checks to make sure he’s not bending your hips in an uncomfortable way. 

- You put your hands back on the dusty bench to stabilize yourself as you lie back, Namjoon wastes no time in pressing his face close to your cunt and inhaling, His nose prodding at the thin fabric of your underwear. One of his ears caught on the hem of your dress. His fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs- so full and healthy it makes him hard in his pants. 

- He’s slow with the appreciation of your thighs and hips. Hands gripping and moving on to touch and feel like you have all the time in the world. But you hear voices outside the tool shed you’ve commandeered and you could just slip out and go back up to your house- but somehow you like this better. The thought of being discovered stirring an unsure heat in your stomach. 

- You can hear Taehyung's voice, and then- like a shock through your core- you hear Jimin’s. Namjoon can feel your jolt. And you realize- his sensitive ears must have known who it was before your own human ones did. He chuckles- teasing his fingers along the hem of your underwear, almost daring to slip inside.

- You almost whine when you think about what you’re being denied- the harsh pull of his fingers that you’re so addicted too, how thick his fingers and knuckles feel (almost as nice as his cock) when they pull out and push in.

- Yoongi and Namjoon have always had the most lovely hands, it’s strange that when Namjoon touches you- you think about Yoongi’s hands. The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. "you're thinking about them aren't you," The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. Because yeah; Yoongi and Jimin are apart of Namjoon’s pack too, and bonding and group sex are kind of the same thing to hybrids. You’d found that out the hard way when you’d found a group of cat hybrids all tangled together in the grass the other day.

- Namjoon is always so gentle with you because of your condition, but you find your hips jerking with want. His fingers still when he feels the way your wetness has spilled out the sides. His thumb pressed over your clit teasingly. “smell so good when you're like this So wet my love, are you thinking about them finding you like this?” 

- “Y-yes” you confess, and Namjoon growls, nipping at you through the fabric, the feel of his teeth brushing you, over the sensitive skin. The fabric cushioning the feeling, makes you almost gush, and you know you’ll be shakily legged by the time he lets you get down. And that he won’t let you get away from him until he’s taken care of you in this way, sated you in every sense of the word. 

- But he can also tell how shy you are, the heat under your skin at the thought of being discovered. always unsure how much of your dirty talk is a real want and not just something you like in theory. Namjoon knows the idea of sharing you with the others might seem like the most natural and hottest thing; to love you alongside them. but to you- a human, hybrid sex and hybrid bedroom dynamics aren't as given. 

- So he leans close, sliding your underwear down your legs slowly, letting you feel the heat of his palms on your skin. You're getting worked up a little too quickly, your heaving breaths needy. God damn pregnancy hormones you'd say if you could think beyond the plush feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to your clit. “Gotta clean you up for them, if they smelled you like this- then they’d know wouldn’t they?” 

- You prove Namjoons initial assumption wrong. “What if I-” you whisper- gasping quietly as Namjoon drags the fabric to the side and glides a delicate lick over your folds. “What if I want them to know?” the pleasure thrumming through your body as Namjoon licks up your slit. Namjoon stills, ears perked, eyes flashing in the half-light. The snarl against your cunt loud and echoic.

- The voices outside fall silent and Namjoon doesn't stop his ravenous licking no matter if you have to bite your lip to keep your noises in. One of your hands scrambling to pull at his hair and find something to grip onto and anchor yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. Jimin is the first one to puncture the silence, “What was that?” 

- Then comes Seokjin's voice “all of you- move along- whoever it is they probably don’t want the three of you listening in like a bunch of horn dogs” which is basically a confirmation that they were listening in, and that Yoongi was there too. 

- When you finally exit the toolshed with weak legs, sure you’re going to have to at least got change your underwear. You find a bleary-eyed Seokjin a few dozen feet away, obviously upwind of the toolshed. he levels Namjoon with a tired expression. “You both have dirt on your knees” Namjoon has the good sense to look shy at that. You hastily brush off the spots on his, and he on yours.

- If Jimin and Yoongi smell anything on you later- they don’t say anything and the idea that they might make you feel hot all over whenever they lean in too close. You think you see a blush on Yoongi’s face more than once, and maybe see him adjust his pants out of the corner of your eye, but Jimin seems blissfully unaware.

- You have a check-up at the doctor’s office in the coming days. And although only Namjoon is allowed in the room with you (they have a two-person maximum because the ultrasound room is tiny), Yoongi and Jimin also accompany you. Namjoon comes bounding out after, waving the picture and smiling so so wide, both Yoongi and jimin leaning in close to get a better look- they’re so enamored with the little photo. And when you get home- Namjoon shows anyone that asks how the check-up went, eventually hanging it on one of the two fridges in the kitchen.

- Jimin is the only one who seems to notice the jealous looks- because you went out for ice-cream after and come home with them still partially melting (you’d had another craving- french-fries dunked in ice cream of all things). One of the other hybrids having heard Jimin talk to Tae about the beach trip too. They come to you at the end of the day, 2 bunnies, a cat, a fox and one of the bears- a mish moshed group of hybrids; petitioning you to start the beach trips for everyone.

- You can only fit so many people into the back of your truck so you pick a day and start a raffle for spots. Jimin throws his name into the hat just in case but to his surprise, Yoongi doesn’t. No matter how much Jimin bugs him too; He won’t agree to accompany Jimin to the beach again. Shaking his head with a roll of his eyes back tipped back against the grass, his sunhat crumpled. Offering up a few sweet tomatoes to soothe Jimin’s sour nerves. 

- The peace lasts for a couple of days before they’re right back to treating Yoongi like shit and for some reason, it pisses Jimin off more. No matter how many times he’s heard Namjoon asks Yoongi to please tell him when anything happens. The snake hybrid seems unable to fight back.

- Jimin asks one of the hybrids why she won’t look at Yoongi (after the snake has already gone up the hill to retrieve another dish for dinner) and beyond a startled look, she just says “none of us can smell him” she throws a stack of paper towels down onto the table angrily. The deer hybrid across from them stumbling with their silver wear But she doesn’t need to re-iterate herself. Jimin understands- it’s hard to trust someone who can lie to your face- and in the world of hybrids where emotions can be decreed from a simple sniff, Jimin can’t say he doesn’t see where they’re coming from.

- Doesn’t excuse their behavior, however. After all- Jimin can smell Yoongi’s emotions through his scent and he didn't realize that was something strange until now. To Jimin, Yoongi’s scent is soft and sweet- something gummy and soft like a marshmallow. But that’s probably because he spends so much time with the hybrid. The others only spend so much time around him and are unused to his scent. And the fact that he never talks and never tries to socialize doesn’t help.

- Jimin can’t imagine not wanting to smell more of it- not leaning in whenever the other hybrid passes. Jimin wants to bury his face in Yoongi’s neck and rub his cheek all over it. The same way that Namjoon does to him in the morning if he shows up before he’s changed from his pajamas. And he knows he smells soft like sleep- an alluring smell to the older alpha when he comes down the stairs, ears straight up eyes wide as he takes in all of Jimin's vulnerability.

- and it might have to do with what Taehyung had said- that alphas eat up that sort of thing. 

- Namjoon smells good too, his scent all soft mornings and sleepy walks, the older hybrid large and so pliant in his sleepiness, eyes swollen and face puffy as he hides in Jimin’s shoulder. Sending his pine scent all over so that it sticks to jimin no matter where he is. So that jimin will smell like Namjoon all day. 

- One of the cat hybrids at the sink rolls her eyes. But when you come down the stairs smelling much the same. You touch his arm so softly in passing, like you can’t believe you’re allowed. And Jimin’s senses are a dizzying blur of cream, peaches, pine, and marshmallow. 

- when he goes back to the barns, hazy at being scented by Namjoon so thoroughly. Taehyung levels him with a funny look and a chuckle. "you're more devious than anyone gives you credit for" thought Taehyung means it good-naturedly- it's good to have a friend to ask how to go about flirting with. the other hybrids gathered on the couch in front of the tv; some cartoon playing- pretend like they're not listening in. 

- "How do you know so much when you don't have a pack of your own Tae?" he asks over breakfast, the two of them clutching breakfast burritos on their way to check Tae's bees. Tae doesn't meet Jimin's eyes "you're just lucky- most hybrids dont find a pack so easily Jimin" his words aren’t jealous- only a little patronizing. And Jimin accepts it because he knows he has a lot to learn.

- Taehyung is right- out of all of the hybrids at the farm, there are only a few who have paired up or even made stronger groups or multi-person packs. the bunnies and the cats don't form set generally- though there are a few pairs and more than a few throuples.

- Jimin as caught Yeonjun making out with a tabby more than once- has learned to avoid certain sections of the woods all together because everyone knows that's where the bunny hybrids like to go in the afternoons. The canine hybrids are the only ones who have packs, though there are more than half a dozen loners like jimin and namjoon.

- It's hard for Jimin to cohabitate with them even though there are other larger predators and more than a few prey hybrids living in Jimin's barn. he hadn’t really realized until taehyung pointed it out that each different pack occupied one corner of the punk room. More than once- the room in the barns has felt hostile if only for the packs that have claimed either corner of the bunkroom. it's usual to wake up and find more than one of the pups cuddling with another in one single bed. 

- Having reciprocated love in his pack shouldn't feel like an impossibility to Jimin. But still, when Yoongi steps close- an inch too far away, his fingertips barely brushing- Jimin just- yearns. It’s a soft sort of yearning, the kind that has jimin jumping up whenever Yoongi needs something. Has him settling a think knit blanket over Yoongi’s nobly knees during movie nights, and sticking his own feet underneath the edge of the blanket. Feet Pressed to the clothed line of his calf. Maybe nothing will ever come of it, But Jimin yearns with everything he’s got regardless.

- In the late hours of the night, when Jimin lies awake thinking about the three of you. An instinct welling inside of him that says he should walk up the hill and fall asleep on your couch just to be closer to you three (the pack instinct- Taehyung calls it, looking a little bit sad himself when jimin asks him, the other hybrid moving away before jimin can ask exactly what that means) Jimin wonders if his feelings will ever be reciprocated.

- But love is a strange thing, it’s not just about saying it with kisses or touches- though Jimin wants them too. There is love in the small things, in building something together so that’s what Jimin tries to do. Every day- he takes to gardening with a new vigor. Shouting in joy when you harvest some of the tomatoes- filling up a whole gallon bucket with the amount that have ripened over the last week. Your peppers and cucumbers are beginning to produce more too.

- Jimin and Yoongi run to Namjoon just to give him a handful. The alpha gives each of them a sweet nuzzle in thanks, even if Yoongi chirps and moves back after a moment. A flush high on his cheek. Namjoon looking up at Yoongi from where he’s stopped- cheek on the elder's shoulder. The snake relaxing after a moment. 

- You spend the rest of the day showing Jimin and Yoongi how to prepare the tomatoes to make a sauce, roasting them on low heat. Cutting garlic so so carefully, and whenever Jimin looks across the prep table- Yoongi’s gaze darts away. halfway through- yoongi stoops down, sticking his socked feet into jimin’s lap, and it feels so nice, to have their weight there. 

- You go over to Yoongi at one point, and he tips his head back to look up at you. The back of his head is at the right height to lye up against your baby bump. And Jimin watches, as you slowly, so slowly, brush the hair out of his eyes and away from his forehead. Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and he tips his face into your hand. Letting out a low happy grumble when you take his action as positive reinforcement, and drag your nails over his scalp. In Jimin’s lap, Yoongi’s toes curl. 

- It feels strange- and Jimin can’t quite put his finger on it- but it almost feels like Yoongi is letting you all touch him more than ever. Suddenly okay with touches- as long as it’s in a more private setting. Jimin can’t say he’s unhappy about it. Maybe one-day yoongi will even let Jimin scent mark him. 

- Jimin smiles at Yoongi’s happy little snake grumbles. And keeps chopping his garlic. Is happy to receive the same kind of scratch from you a few minutes later. Though he might abandon his chopping in favor of rubbing his face all over your stomach when the instinct strikes him. Jimin unintentionally lets out a growl when you start to move away. Slapping a hand over his mouth and apologizing, no matter how you and Yoongi laugh.

- Still, despite the happiness, you have in your kitchen, in your house, whenever you’re around each other. The rest of the world is not so kind.

- An adoption day comes at arguably the worst and best time. There is still a fair amount of friction between your group and the rest of the hybrids. And a few outsiders at the farm only make it worse. Though Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon aren’t the only hybrids who wear red stickers to indicate that they are not available for adoption.

- Hoseok surprisingly- grabs a yellow sticker. And the three of your hybrids watch- as Seokjin hovers around him- a red sticker on his own lapel- wary of all and anyone who interacts with the otter hybrid. His glares putting off all but the most attentive patrons. That's where it starts.

- Jimin is unfortunately caught in the middle when seokjin confronts hoseok. off to help the three of them bring down 3 trays of cut watermelon for the hybrids and the patrons. The dinner tables have been set out on the side of the field piled high with Hors d'oeuvre. You’re there with Namjoon greeting the humans. Games are set out too- for the hybrids and humans to play. 

- it’s no secret that they’ve gotten close, and jimin had assumed they’d talked about it- but apparently not. Seokjin is so angry he’s nearly crying. “why- hoseok- why do you want to leave the farm?” Hoseok’s little otter ears are tight against his scalp. “I just- I didn’t want to assume?”

- “Oh- so you’d rather just- throw away everything that we’re trying- all of this- you don’t you dont want to stay do you-” Jimin has never seen seokjin looking so lost, and he knows enough to guess that Seokjin’s anger is at least in part to due to some trauma (later- Jimin will find out that Seokjin’s mother left him with his last owner- an abusive man- to save herself).  

- Jimin knows enough to get in between them, telling them to calm down and spend a minute away from each other. Jimin ends up with Hoseok- “it’s hard Jimin- how do you, how do you have so much sureness with Y/n? with Namjoon and yoongi too? How do you look at them and trust that you should stay?” Hoseok's eyes remain on Jimin's red tag. 

- Jimin sighs, thinking it through, “do you look at Seokjin and know he cares about you? like- do you know it in your bones?” Hoseok bites his lower lip, “yes- but-” 

- “Then you should stay Hoseok,” Jimin walks Hoseok up to the main house where the stickers sit on the prep table. Changing out his yellow one for a red one. And when they head off back down the hill, Seokjin is waiting on the path with Yoongi, apologizing and dragging Hoseok away to the barns where Seokjin’s own private room is. Hoseok goes willingly, smiling up at the older hybrid. His narrow shoulders cuddled under one of Seokjin's wide ones. 

- jimin has to admit, an otter and an alpaca are a weird combination for a hybrid pack (But no stranger than a pair of puppies and a snake). His thoughts drift towards Taehyung- and Jimin hopes that his friend won't end up alone. it must not be easy- to see all of you pair off like this. 

- in some ways, that adoption day is full of just as much bullshit as they usually are. there are always people who dont understand the effort it takes to take care of a hybrid- they aren't just like any ordinary pet. it's easy to spot the ones that view them as pets- and less like people. You get a few rich people looking to adopt a companion as always. 

- A substantial group of families also look to adopt similarly aged companions for their single children. And you agree to more than one possible test weekend. You’re always so particular about letting the children go, so wary and so careful in the way you let them interact with the families.

- Though they don’t have parents here- there are more than a few good role models and parental figures. More than one child chooses a red tag for themselves. And they always know have a right to it- no matter how young they are. You make it clear to the group of them; If they don’t want to be adopted they don’t have to be. 

- You even get one couple- the woman withdrawn and sad, and a slightly jealous look at your own pregnant stomach says more than any words could. It’s pretty common for women who can’t have children to adopt hybrid children. and though some of it doesn't sit right with you, You aren’t one to judge. 

- Jimin spends most of the adoption day helping you balance the need for food and for games. running back and forth to the house to help. Though there is a little work that needs to be done here and there just to keep the farm running as usual. grey storm clouds roll in halfway through the day, puncturing the blue sky- foretelling scattered showers and storms. and jimin hopes it will cut the adoption day short so that you can return to your routines. 

- Jimin is just helping Yoongi putting away a broken badminton net When it happens- Jimin isn’t certain why it does. Only that he hears the words outside the shed after Yoongi's just excited to grab the broken rackets (Namjoon isn't the only clumsy hybrid you have at the farm). 

- “oh sorry- ew gross,” a shrill female voice says, and then he rounds the corner and sees yoongi picking himself up from the dirt- a rich lady and her peacock hybrid looking down at him like he’s the dirt beneath his shoes. The peacock hybrid has Yoongi’s sun hat in his hands and there is another hybrid- a wolf hybrid from the farm with a green sticker on his shirt, who growls down at yoongi.

- His shoulders shake too the way they do when he’s been touched and he doesn’t want to be. Jimin has seen you brush your fingers over the back of Yoongi’s hand, has even felt the coolness of the snake hybrid through the fabric when the elder grabbed his sleeve. Has touched him even more intimately as of late. But he knows that Yoongi can’t tolerate being touched by people he doesn’t trust- doesn’t want to touch him. basically, anyone, that's, not you, Namjoon, or Jimin himself. 

- “Hey- what the fuck!” Jimin spits, grabbing the sunhat out of the hybrid's hand with a growl, his ears flat against his head. If Jimin had elongated canines like Namjoon they would be barred in anger as he shoves the larger hybrid back. Yoongi shrinks impossibly smaller behind him.

- Jimin is hot and itchy from the heat and the humidity, and he really just wants to shower and cool off. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with entitled people today. And more importantly- no one touches Yoongi on Jimin’s watch.

- The hybrid looks surprised to be talked to in that way, he’s nearly a head taller than Jimin let alone the slightly taller feathers that poke out of the top of his head that give him the appearance of several more inches- but Jimin’s intimidating enough with his set expression to send the hybrid huffing away. Feathers fluffed.

- The peacock's iridescent feathers stand up on end as he grabs the hand of his human owner, her diamond tennis bracelet glittering in the sunlight. “This was getting boring anyway. Sorry” he tosses over his shoulder at the canine hybrid, who looks so disappointed his ears pinned back against his head. They only give him that- barely a look, before they’re heading off down the hill in the direction of the line of cars parked on the grass.

- The wolf hybrid deflates audibly- watching the woman and the other hybrid disappear down the hill. promises of home and family disappearing in a moment, but Jimin has to think- if they’d be discouraged so easily- were they really worth it? The wolf hybrid doesn't seem to think so- Turning his angry tear-filled eyes on Jimin. 

- But Jimin can see the hate in his eyes and knows not to mistake the tears for only sadness. “You both ruin everything” he growls out- before they too run back towards the barns- no doubt to tell the others how Yoongi had sabotaged their adoption. Even though that was far from the truth. in all honestly- yoongi just bumped into the lady- or more probably- the lady bumped into him when he was on his way out of the shed.

- Jimin holds out his sunhat to Yoongi, who takes it from Jimin carefully, Jimin doesn’t linger on the fact that his hand still shakes. Jimin’s hand lingers somewhere close enough where Yoongi could touch it could reach out if he wants too. If he wants to get that kind of comfort from Jimin's touch- then Jimin will willingly give it. 

- a faint flush coats the elder's cheeks. Oh no- he must be overheating then, Jimin feels a rush of concern. He knows what you would do, hover your hand close enough to Yoongi’s forehead, usher him upstairs for a break in the air conditioning, and a glass of icy lemonade.

- All they can hear is the shouts of laughter at the games the others play in the fields, “I understand why you don’t want to stay in the barns, why you don’t want to socialize with some of them, they’re so unkind to you it makes me crazy.” Jimin shakes his head, sour anger filling him like a rotten peach.

- Yoongi, looks more than pacified, looking up at Jimin with an indecipherable look. Most of the time, Jimin can get a good guess on how he’s feeling but not now- not that indecipherable heaviness he finds there. or the strangely heavy marshmallow scent that’s fluffed around them. Jimin lets go of Yoongi’s hat.

- After a moment Yoongi nods, and Jimin takes it as a thank you. They’re done for the day and dinner won’t be for another few hours or so. Jimin is ready to avoid some of the strangers and hopefully take advantage of the empty showers. The sky is grey with incumbent storm clouds when Jimin makes his way to the shower buildings which he finds blissfully empty; except for the bear hybrid Jackson that tosses a greeting at Jimin before exiting.

- Jimin doesn’t even bother to flick the lights on, instead of settling for the calm light that comes through the skylights, grey and hazy. the storm clouds have started to roll in properly. He hums as he disrobes, goes to grab his favorite strawberry body wash, and picks the last shower at the end, disrobing in relative comfort, glad for a moment of privacy.

- The blissfully Coldwater does wonders for his overheating muscles, relaxing his body deliciously from a day spent walking up and down the hill. he digests the chaos of the day- seokjin and hoseok fighting, yoongi getting shoved. you'd looked frazzled the last time he'd seen you, smile strained as you made small talk with most of the humans, Namjoon always close incase you needed someone to lean on.

-  Jimin had been able to tell that your feet were sore just by looking at you. Namjoon will probably make you sit down before long, maybe he already has. You’ll probably cut off the adoption day because of the rain. Taking down names and information before you send them on their way. You rarely let a hybrid leave the farm after one adoption day, needing to have more private meetings and house calls to willingly part with one of them. You just want to make sure you dont release them back into another abusive household. 

- He hums as he washes, lingering in the water and taking a longer shower than he usually would. He hums, testing the way his vocal cords wrap around the acoustics of the empty high ceilinged room. 

Then he hears the scuffling of someone in the bathroom too and cuts off. A little abashed at being caught. The rustling getting closer and its a moment before he realizes that the rustling is coming from his own section of the bath. he smells him the second before he pulls the shower curtain gets pulled back. 

- “Yoongi!” Jimin shouts, furiously grabbing at something to cover his nakedness. Jimin furiously tries to cover his crotch, grabbing one of the large bargain bottles of shampoo and hold it there even as cold water runs over his face. Getting into his wide eyes. “Yoongi what the fuck! You’re naked!”

- Jimin is glad that the rumors about snake hybrids having double the appendages as a normal hybrid are false but he can’t stop his blush or his wandering eyes as he sees the snake hybrid in full. Or the hot lick of arousal that shocks him through his core- especially when he recognizes the heaviness to Yoongi's scent as being arousal. 

- there is a single moment, jimin can smell yoongi- can see the want in his eyes, can feel his own scent fluff out to meet his, yoongi sags under the weight of Jimin's scent as the surprise dissipates. "do you-" Jimin's face must be brighter than a tomato. He reaches out a tentative hand, "do you want to-" 

- Before Jimin can do much more than that Yoongi’s lips are on his, tentative but firm and passionate, the fire leaking into him from Yoongi as jimin stumbles in surprise. The kiss tastes like thank you and Ive wanted to do this for longer than i care to admit and everything yoongi can't say, can't let slip past his lips. jimin drops the shampoo bottle which narrowly misses his foot as Yoongi’s hands come up to encircle his jaw so softly like Yoongi is holding the most important thing in his world. Jimin is so shocked that for a moment- he doesn’t kiss back and Yoongi retracts- not before Jimin chases his lips and the snake hybrid returns to him.

- It’s the first time Yoongi’s ever touched Jimin so bare, and the snake’s hands on the back of his neck feel cold and shivery but good. As Jimin’s back hit’s the wall and their fronts press together for a moment, just brushing. Then colliding with more force as they both realize how good it feels to be so close to someone you trust. It’s dizzying- intoxicating, and Jimin knows his mouth is moving sloppily even if he wants to kiss Yoongi with just as much intent. 

- The snake hybrid bites- actually bites- down on Jimin’s tongue. And a strangled whine comes to live and die in his throat. A snarl in his ears from Yoongi's mouth as the snake hybrid keeps his biting, moves to Jimin's throat- bites hard Enough that Jimin knows he'll leave a bruise. "leave more- yoongi please mark me" jimin feels hot with the thought of it- the thought of all the other hybrids being able to smell yoongi on his scent gland. 

- Jimin doesn’t know where to put his hands, he knows enough to know that Yoongi doesn’t like to be touched and unsure if it extends to right now. but it seems okay if he’s doing the touching. His hands sliding down Jimin's back to his waist. He’s a good kisser, the best that Jimin’s ever kissed (not that there have been many) and he tips his head forward to put as much scalding force as he can into it when yoongi leaves his neck in favor of his mouth, trying to match Yoongi’s intensity even if he can’t match his skill.

- Yoongi takes a step forward, and Jimin’s cock brushes his hipbone, and he can’t stop the way his hips jump at the contact, brushing into Yoongi further. Jimin’s blood boils with arousal. Yoongi is equally as hard compared to Jimin. And Jimin doesn't know if its water or precum that he feels on his skin. Can't look down to check.

- By the time Yoongi leans back and finishes running his fingers through Jimin’s hair and over his shoulders. Jimin’s so wound up he feels like he’s about the pass out. The cool water cascading over his back doing nothing to settle him. Yoongi moves his hips- testing the waters, as he grinds, works jimin’s hips into an unsteady rhythm. and jimin moans. 

- Yoongi pulls back, looking at jimin, their noses brushing, like he can’t bear to have jimin farther away from him than this, want heavy in his eyes, and Jimin tastes the words on Yoongi’s lips as good as if he’d said them. “Yoongi” jimin breathes. Palms pressed carefully to the shower wall so that he won’t reach out and yank Yoongi closer. But he’s Weak against the wake of this of all this feeling.

- “fuck- kiss me again- can we- ” Jimin feels strung out, his body heavy with something like heat- maybe Jimin is actually having a heat and it’s not just in his imagination (he wouldn't really know what it felt like- never having had one before because of his malnutrition). But This kind of kissing is certainly enough to trigger one.

- Yoongi opens his mouth for a second, almost like he’s about to speak- or to try to, Jimin’s never been sure if he can- if it’s muteness or just Yoongi being selective. And then in the next moment, Yoongi’s gone, almost tripping on his way out of the showers with how fast he’s leaving jimin. A whine dies in his throat and jimin starts after him, But then Yoongi turns back. Gesturing with a hand for jimin to stay put. Yoongi looks angry, and it takes a moment for Jimin to realize that the anger wasn’t directed at jimin- only at Himself.

- Jimin stays in the shower, water thundering down around him as the sky overhead thunders too. Jimin listens to the faint sound of Yoongi dressing and then leaving the showers. Jimin lets him go. So sure that he has absolutely no idea what just happen- or even if he didn’t imagine the whole thing.

- jimin’s hand on himself doesn't feel nearly good as Yoongi’s did. 

- Yoongi’s hands shake all the way back up the hill, and he hopes his wet hair won’t be too suspicious especially when a mixed group of hybrids crosses his path. Returning to the barns as most of the adoption day festivities have ended.

 - Yoongi’s careful to keep his eyes averted. And like usual- the conversation comes to a halt when Yoongi passes them by. It no longer bugs him the way it might have once. They have a good reason not to want to associate with him. Yoongi’s body shakes with the weight of the things he’s done and the things he’s going to do.

- you gather with 3 families on your porch as you take down their names and contact information. You send yoongi a concerned look as he quickly heads inside the house. Pausing only for a moment before he decides to go to Namjoon first. Later- later he’ll ask you too. 

- Stupid- he’s been so stupid recently. Touching you- indulging in these short sweet touches because he wants more so badly. Knows he can never have it doesn’t stop the wanting. If his owner ever found out what he’s done- if she ever found out what he’d almost done with jimin- she’d surely have Jimin’s hands for it. 

- And as much as Yoongi wishes it were any other way- Jimin almost touching him does remind him of far worse times. Though he’d been the one to initiate it this time- the memories still linger. 

- Times when foreign hands touched his skin as he’d thrashed and screamed trying to protest against the taunting words of his owner. “I’ve never been interested in snake dick but if you want him for tonight you can have him- just be careful- he bites” and he shakes with those memories. Though its been many years. like most kinds of torture- eventually, his owner had grown bored with using yoongi's body as a bargaining chip. Yoongi wonders if he’s ever going to be able to be touched that way without feeling the revulsion at his own body.

- Jimin had come close, but he'd known- known that yoongi didn't want him to touch him. Had seemed more than willing to be touched himself. the revulsion hadn't hit him until the end. 

- The places he’s been touched without his consent feel black and decaying- or like ink, every time someone touches him- Yoongi’s surprised that ink doesn’t come away on your hands soft and delicate. But it didn’t change the fact that Yoongi wanted it- and wants it still. 

- he wants to see you soft and sated the way you look sometimes in the morning when he can smell Namjoon on you- wants to cause it- maybe, someday in the future if you'll let him. He knows you’d be gentle with him. Wouldn’t put your hands anywhere he didn’t want. Would check in with him- going as slowly or as quickly as he wanted too. Namjoon would be able to be gentle too- Yoongi’s sure of it.

- He wants it, even though he knows that want only put you all in danger. He’s an incredibly selfish person. He hopes he never gets to have that intimacy with you, for your sake.

- yoongi should only let himself dream of something good before he goes- sinks back into that life. But the temptation for more is too strong sometimes, his want filling him up like sticky sweet syrup that pollutes every moment. 

- Namjoon is on the second floor of your house and Yoongi takes the stairs two at a time. Folding laundry in what will one day be the nursery for your child. He’s taken the ultrasound up here now- hung it up so he can look at it. and Yoongi is reminded of A few days ago when he gushed about the development of your child to Yoongi in the kitchen comparing them to the size of a fruit. “a cute little cantaloupe- the cutest little cantaloupe”

- You and Namjoon have made the decision not to find out the gender, but the walls of the nursery are still pained blue, puffy clouds above and little flowers below, dandelions and daisies, a stalwart sunflower that curls over the arch of the door half-finished. Yoongi knows you work on the mural it whenever you can. But Namjoon gets a little paranoid about the fumes- you compromise and keep the windows open along with the door to your balcony to allow as much air circulation as possible.

- The crib, a fluffy white thing is already piled into the corner. And Yoongi remembers the first few weeks here when you and Namjoon had overzealously ordered it. He’d come downstairs after dinner one night and found both of you puzzling over the directions. And he’d shooed Namjoon away as he’d helped you put it together. The three of you ending up giggly and punch drunk tired by the time it was fully put together. And then had to carry it all the way up the stairs. 

-A mobile of little felted flowers that Seokjin made you as a thank you present a hangs above the empty Crib- colorful and cute. And Namjoon has set the laundry on the unused changing table in neat stacks. All of the other furniture is piled into the center of the room so that you can paint the walls. He turns when he hears Yoongi, his tail swishing.

- “Hey Yoon- what you get caught in a rainstorm or something?” the rain splatters against the windows with a soft patter and Yoongi drips onto the floor. He never bothered to dry off after the unintentional shower with jimin. Yoongi makes a shrug that means ‘something like that’ and if the younger hybrid hovers on the way that Yoongi’s lips look a little kiss bitten and swollen he doesn’t say a thing. Namjoon knows better than anyone- what they talk about and what they don’t.

- He hands over the slip of paper; “jimin should move into the main house, you and I could clean out one of the storage rooms and move the stuff into the attic.”

-  Yoongi watches Namjoon’s eyes rove over the words a few times. The hybrid purses his lips, “I’ve talked to Y/n about this- and she agrees- but I don’t know if he wants too? He seems pretty comfortable in the barns, he likes Taehyung and they’re friends. and we kind of want to leave it up to him if we can.”

- Yoongi snatches the paperback from him, annoyance flickering in his chest as he rolls his eye. Didn’t Namjoon see that nothing would change if they didn’t push him a little? Jimin is the type to take that kind of abuse again and again if it means not making a fuss. And Yoongi knows it’s only a matter of time before something happens again. He turns it over onto the other side and using the wall as a place to write.

- “He’s already being treated differently because of me” 'me' being double underlined- so that Namjoon really understands what he’s trying to say. Yoongi just wants to make sure Jimin is safe before he goes. Before he needs to leave and before it gets too dangerous and too near a time when his owner will physically retrieve him. Not that Namjoon knows that Yoongi’s presence has an expiration date. Namjoon searches Yoongi’s face for a source to his desperation and finds none.

- Yoongi has never felt worse for keeping secrets. Maybe in another world- Yoongi would have confessed and asked Namjoon, with all of his connections to the police, for help. Yoongi knows enough to put the whole crime system out of whack and yet. Years of negative reinforcement and beatings have taught him to keep his mouth shut and that isn’t going to change now; not when Yoongi’s life isn’t the only one at risk and he knows you’ll all live if he plays by the rules. He doesn't care about his own safety anymore. 

- The second he sees Yoongi’s distraught expression Namjoon steps closer Taking off his flannel and tugging it around his shoulders. Namjoon might not make moves to scent mark Yoongi but dressing him in his clothes is as good as he gets. Namjoon’s comforting alpha scent fluffs around him.

- Yoongi wonders if jimin feels the pull the same way he does. Dynamics are more mobile in snake hybrids and downright non-existent in humans. but they’re more set in canines. Namjoon puts his hand on Yoongi’s clothed arm and Yoongi shuffles close after a second. His nose centimeters from Namjoon’s neck taking in deep breathes to try and steady himself. He didn’t realize he was shaking.

- “It will be alright Yoongi, I promise. He’s gonna be safe.” Namjoon adds quieter. And below them both- in the first floor of the house, he can hear your voice, echoing louder and laughing at some sort of joke, Namjoon’s tail starts wagging at the suggestion of you. “I want them to feel safe too.”

- Yoongi wants to write “he should take my room- I won’t be staying in it soon anyway.” but Yoongi needs to make sure- before he leaves. Jimin has to be included in your little pack. He doesn’t want to think- about what the three of you will go through when he eventually has to leave. The days are counting down to the end of the summer. 

- He’s fucking selfish, so selfish, to kiss Jimin like that when he knows he won't be able to stay in the hybrids life. He’s selfish every time he begs affection off you, every day he keeps Namjoon Company when he’s cleaning up the other barns. Yoongi writing out words in the dust when Namjoon asks him questions. Eyes only searching when Namjoon turns his back. Looking for any sort of hidden compartment. Completing his task even if it’s the last thing he wants to do. Betraying you like this.

- Jimin spends the rest of the day wondering if the kiss with Yoongi was just a dream. But later at dinner, Yoongi won’t meet his eyes, and jimin knows he didn’t imagine the kiss. Guilt sticks to Yoongi, more distracting than honey stuck between your fingertips.

- Both of them go to sleep still thinking about the kiss. Jimin wondering if it will happen again and Yoongi thinking that he’d like it too. His fingers running over his lower and upper lips, mind awash with the memory of jimin’s mouth on his. And night falls heavy like a weighted blanket on the farm. The sky a big sheet with holes poked through for stars. A heavenly breeze tempting away the summer heat.

- All of the hybrids safe and snoring in their beds. Some even paired- if they’ve got it. Two furry bodies packed close on a single bed. Some even dream of homes they mind one day live in or of the people that one day they’ll get to love. The idea of being kept and treasured lulling them into a drowsy haze of anticipation and security. 

- That night, Namjoon knocks on Yoongi’s door. the hybrid leaning up against the doorframe as he watches the snake get ready for bed. “you know... you could sleep in our room if you want, we have an air conditioner in there too.” yoongi has a notepad ready, he knows that Namjoon likes to open all the windows and even the door to your balcony to let the fresh air in so that it feels like you're sleeping outside. He steels himself to think of someone other than himself before he writes- “I’m okay- thanks though” Yoongi writes out. 

- Namjoon lifts one of Yoongi’s blankets to his neck before he leaves, thoroughly scents marking it before he leaves it with Yoongi. And Yoongi sleeps easy that night with his nose pressed to the blanket. Safe and secure in his room. Nothing bad happens to yoongi that night even though he cuddles close to the blanket, and when he wakes in the morning. his heart beats a steady thumping rhythm- his whole body humming with anticipation. 

- It’s different to feel excited about being in love, excited for a day spent close to the people he cares about. And he knows he won't take a single day for granted. 

- The crickets and cicadas chirping in the field. And in a low tone on the tree outside, a morning dove gentle and unassuming. The sun rising over the hills. Tastes of idyllic and smells of Eden. Like lavender and honey.

- A hand outstretched, scrambling in the dirt before it goes still, fingers just a few inches from safety. Blood mixing in with the sand. The morning is not perfect for everyone.

- But even you would say the morning was peaceful, if not for the dead body dumped at the end of your driveway. 

Kofi

[obeymeluv]

You Steal the Boys’ Clothes

Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.

Lucifer

It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time

Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.

He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there

With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).

He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)

Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.

It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.

Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear

Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes

And the ex-angel falls all over again.

He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled

Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less

Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room

Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.

Mammon

With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!

He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket

Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went

As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it

There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill

In HIS jacket

Mammon’s brain shuts down.

HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!

FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!

“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”

It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat

Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring

You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder

The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.

“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully

Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)

Leviathan

It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.

He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns

You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really

Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform

His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.

Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)

Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.

No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!

His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!

Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother

He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.

All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire

SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.

Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness

He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.

You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.

He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.

Satan

His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least

Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.

You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it

It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence

He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye

The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS

You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.

Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?

Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.

Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?

There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.

Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.

If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.

Asmodeus

He’s the type to let you think you stole something

Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it

Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!

It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because

This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time

Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over

Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER

A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)

Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe

Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself

Spoils you rotten with compliments

This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face

He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).

You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram

Beelzebub

Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers

You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.

He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,

Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though

You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to

Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.

In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.

Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed

You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck

DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket

Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt

Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket

“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”

It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it

Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.

He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.

Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly

Belphegor

He’s another one that’s hard to steal from

You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys

Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)

You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!

Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed

It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest

You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him

It’s not the same but it’s close enough

Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer

He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.

You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.

Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.

“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.