#*snort* I don’t know why. This scene just tickles me. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trivia-yandere · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!!!! Okay, first of all, I'm in love with your writing!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕And I was wondering (I've never done a story request so if it is horrible, please just ignore it 😅) but I was wondering if you could write a story of maybe yandereboyfriend/friend jungkook kinda forces older (not heaps but like 2-5 years older but shes just shy and confused when it comws to sex and intimacy) reader to loose her virginity to him and she likes it at the end?? If this is super uncomfortable, please don't even think about it 😅😶‍🌫️👉👈 or if you wanna do something completely different, I'd love your writing anyways!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

hello! yes I can :) thank you for sending a request and being so patient! i feel like this yandere is more light than the usual lol

best friends!

jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that wasn't him. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29 idol version

word count: 6.100

warning: naive/shy reader, mentions of watching porn, childhood friends jungkook + reader, smut scenes, coercion, masturbation, manipulation, light yandere tedancies, jealous jungkook, dub-con moments, dry humping, kissing, nipple sucking, oral sex, loss of virginity, rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering, unprotected sex, spitting,

“You’ll never be able to seduce a man, Noona.” Jungkook laughs boisterously, causing your face to heat up. “You’re just too shy.”

Jungkook’s eyes watch as your arms cross over your chest, any self-confidence you had slowly falling. He hums, turning over on his bed to face you. He then places a hand on your thigh. “Noona…”

“Stop calling me that, Jungkook.” you murmur. He knows that you prefer to be called by your name, but he’d often ignore you because of how much he enjoys teasing you, even after years of friendship.

“You’re upset with me.” says Jungkook.

“I’ve stopped calling you Kookie like you asked.”

Jungkook snorts. “That’s because the nickname doesn’t fit me anymore. I’m a man.” his hand squeezes your thigh. “Besides, I said stop calling me that in public. You and I are alone now.”

You and Jungkook have been friends since childhood, your father and his being great friends. The age difference never bothered you as much, and you’d often recall calling Jungkook your baby brother during his primary and middle school days - you having been homeschooled. It was when Jungkook grew in size and age and reached High School did he demand you stop calling him that but never gave a reason as to why.

Even now, as Jungkook and you are adults, the friendship remains. You went to him for whatever you thought you needed and he was there. Moving away from your father had been a big step and finding a job to support yourself was even bigger, but you were never truly alone because you had Jungkook - you and he living together.

Jungkook was the opposite of you. While your job consisted of you being home, he wasn’t. He made friends easily while you remained with a close knit circle. He was more social when needed and you often closed up around people you didn’t know. Most of your friends were Jungkook’s friends that he considered brothers - you recall asking him why he considered them family and not you. Jungkook didn’t give you any reason, stating that you’d never be a sister in his eyes, no matter if he knew you longer or not.

Now you and Jungkook lay in his bed, an action that he insisted on every so often, and watched tv. He’d often hold you, his breath tickling your ear with how close he was. A certain thought now laid on your mind and when you brought it up to Jungkook, his initial thought was to laugh at you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. He pushes himself closer to you, the hand on your thigh firmly keeping you in place. “It’s just…you don’t go out much. You’ve been homeschooled your entire life and you don’t really have friends besides the ones I have.”

Jungkook continues. “You literally cried the first time I showed you porn.” he tries his hardest not to laugh at the memory of you and he, both in High School. You had come over to his home while his parents were working. Jungkook had asked you about it randomly, and when you insisted that you never watched something as normal as porn, he insisted that you and he watch together.

You’re flushed with heat at the embarrassing memory. “You…” you take a deep breath so your voice wouldn’t crack. “You told me it was just sex.”

“Is it not?” Jungkook knits his brows.

“They were crying!”

“In pleasure.” says Jungkook. “I should have started you off easy and not gone into bondage.” low, he begins to laugh. It’s a memory that he’s fond of. “But I don’t regret showing you either. It was the first time you came!”

A memory you wished Jungkook would forget - and stop bringing up. That same night he insisted on teaching you about masturbation, telling you that it was normal. You’ve never done so before, feeling weird about it all together, but Jungkook wouldn’t allow you to leave until you at least gave it a try.

“You even cried in pleasure.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, the scene flashing in his mind. How innocent you appeared, completely confused on what in the world you were doing. It was then did Jungkook tell you that he’d talk you through it. It took a half an hour of convincing, of course. Getting you out of your pants, then your underwear.

“Open your legs, Y/N.” Jungkook had said, grabbing your wrist. “Put your fingers right…there.” he places them onto your clit and you flinch at the feeling. “Then rub…” he murmured, his hand coaching you to rub until you got the hang of it.

Jungkook will never forget the sight and how hard he was at just watching you. Your breathing hitching, the low moans and the calls of his name. It’s a memory he cherishes with you - his best friend - and one of the main reasons as to why he’d never call you his sister; he had to dead that immediately afterwards.

“Who are you trying to seduce anyways?” Jungkook changes the subject and goes back to the original topic. “You found yourself a boyfriend?”

“No.” you quip. “I-I just want to have sex.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Why?”

“You have sex all the time.” you retort. You didn’t like Jungkook’s question, nor the look in his eyes.

“I’m also not a virgin.” Jungkook fires back. “You can’t just have sex with anyone, Y/N. Don’t you think it has to be special?”

“Your first time wasn’t with anyone special.” you murmur. “Do you even talk to her anymore?”

Jungkook snickers. “Don’t remember her name.” he shrugs. “But you and I are different. Sex is different for women.” Jungkook says matter-of-factly. “You women create bonds with guys you give your body to. You can’t have that bond with just anyone.”

It was a conversation Jungkook and you had time and time again. As you got older, you were tired of being a virgin - and dating was never an option. Not because you couldn’t find a boyfriend - you could. You had men come up to you asking for your number and if you’d be interested in going on dates.

The problem was Jungkook. He lingered around you often, and you never minded. He was your best friend and each man that tried were always shot down by him, not you. “He’s ugly.” Jungkook said about one man. “He looks like he doesn’t even shower, Y/N. Why he thinks he can speak to you is beyond me.” was said about another. “Men only want one thing. They can tell that you’ve never been touched.”

“What about Hoseok?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, your question lingering in his mind.

Hoseok?

Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok as his friend - the man he calls his brother?

There’s a dark look in Jungkook’s eyes as he thinks about your question.

“Do you like him?”

“I love Hoseok.” you say calmly. “Like I love you.”

Jungkook doesn’t realize that his nails are digging into your skin until he hears you yelp. There was no way in Hell you love Hoseok the same as you loved him; the thought makes him want to gag.

“Why Hoseok?”

You aren’t sure how to respond. “I’ve known him for years.” was all you can think of. You and he were around the same age and he was nice, always smiling widely at you whenever he came around. “Maybe Namjoon?”

Jungkook swallows.

“You look at my friends often?”

There’s a change in Jungkook’s tone that has you cowering.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Do you want to fuck my friends?”

You’re taken aback by the harshness in Jungkook’s tone.

“I…I don’t know anyone else but your friends.”

Jungkook snickers. He wasn’t going to allow you and Hoseok - or Namjoon, hell, anyone - to do anything. Hoseok is a man such as he is and the thought of his taking something precious from you was driving him wild. Wild because he knows that if you asked Hoseok, he would.

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Hoseok has a girlfriend.”

A lie, but you’d never know that.

“Oh.” you appeared bummed. “Nam-”

“No.”

You swallow. “Jimin…?”

“Do you fantasize about them?”

You’ve know his friends as long as he has, and now he’s wondering when you had the thought of fucking them in your mind.

“I just want to have sex.” you sigh in defeat, not wanting to cause a fight with Jungkook.

“Why wouldn’t you ask me?”

Jungkook doesn’t care how unreasonably spoiled he may sound. You were his best friend, after all. He kept creeps away from you who wanted nothing but to wet their cocks. You were safe with him in the home you and he shared - he’d be damned if he’d allow a man to come in here and fuck you.

You’re silent, and Jungkook continues.

“You don’t love me.”

Your eyes widen when you feel Jungkook remove himself from you.

“I do.” you quip. “I-I just…I don’t have anyone else. I’m tired of not knowing what it feels like.” watching television with sexual scenes had you wondering if sex was truly as good as they made it seem. You recall hearing from Taehyung, another friend of Jungkook, that porn is often fake and not everything you see was real - but how could it not be when their eyes are rolling and they’re screaming with such passion?

“If you loved me, Y/N, you’d ask me.”

Your heart sinks when Jungkook lifts from his lying position. You hated arguing with him. He was someone you loved and trusted with your life - him being upset with you had your anxiety spiking.

“I thought you had someone you were seeing.” you admit. You recall seeing her a few times in the home. She never spoke, but then again neither did you. She would stroll past you to enter Jungkook’s bedroom and only ever gave you a small grin.

“Oh her.” Jungkook brushes past the statement. “I am. Somewhat.” he shrugs his shoulders. Her contemplated asking her out - she was decent looking and a good fuck. But he didn’t love her nor respect her enough to make her his girlfriend. He was just bored at the moment. “Why does that matter?”

The same way it matters that Hoseok had a girlfriend, you think. You want to say it, but you didn’t want to upset Jungkook anymore than he already was. “I don’t want to come between that.”

Jungkook wants to laugh. “I don’t love her. I love you.” Jungkook says, a tone in his voice that indicates that it should be obvious. “You are my best friend. You should be able to come to me when you need me. Not anyone else.”

You lift yourself up from the bed, as well, and you slowly nod your head. “Sorry.” you murmur.

Jungkook turns to face you, a full smile on his lips. “It’s okay. I’ll forgive you, Y/N.” Jungkook holds his hand out for you to grab.

You do, and Jungkook lightly tugs you closer. You and he are face to face now.

“Sex is more than just losing your virginity.” Jungkook’s thumb rubs your knuckles. “Sex should be pleasurable for both of us. Masturbation is a form of sex. You’ve done that already.”

You nod slowly, feeling hot.

“Tell me, Y/N.” Jungkook says. “When you masturbate, what makes you cum?”

You lick your lips, again embarrassed. You swallow while trying to find the words to answer Jungkook.

“When you watch porn, what do you like?” Jungkook changes the question up, and understands how shy you were - even with him.

Jungkook waits patiently for you to respond. “I-I…” you glance away from him. His eyes were always so piercing, like small black holes that can swallow anyone whole.

“Don’t be shy. We’re best friends, right?” Jungkook pulls you closer to him. “If you loved me, Y/N, you’ll tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

You nod. “Oral sex?” your words come out questioningly.

Jungkook nods. “Okay. That’s a start. Oral sex is a big part of sex. It’s a form of foreplay. Get things started.”

“I don’t think you should do that.” you’re horrified with Jungkook’s face being so close to your sex. Yes, he’s seen it before - years ago - but that was then. He was a man now and he’s had sex with countless women.

“Why not?” Jungkook tilts his head.

You’re silent, and Jungkook sighs. “You don’t trust me.”

“I do!”

“Then why don’t you trust me to pleasure you? You’d rather go to my friends than trust me, Y/N. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“I’m sorry.” you quip. “I just don’t think it…looks good?”

Jungkook blinks.

You swallow.

“Of course it looks good.” Jungkook then laughs. “I’ve already seen it.”

“That was years ago.” you murmur, casting your eyes away.

“True. But still. You trust and love me just like I trust and love you.” Jungkook places a hand on your cheek for you to look at him. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t hide your body from me. I’ll have to show you mine, too.”

You nod your head.

“We can start now.”

You inhale deeply. You don’t move, and when Jungkook notices he frowns.

“Y/N. What did I say?”

“Don’t hide from you.” you murmur.

“Exactly. Here. I’ll help you take your clothes off and you can do the same for me.”

Jungkook is slow when he puts his hands at the end of your shirt. He lifts it up and you stiffen, unsure of what to do next. The shirt comes over your head and Jungkook throws it aside.

“Okay?” asks Jungkook, his eyes glancing down to the bra you’re wearing. It’s red and basic, but it hugs your breast perfectly.

You only nod.

“Okay.” Jungkook then goes towards your leggings. They’re tight, but he manages to get his hands inside. He begins to tug and awkwardly, you lift yourself up so he can remove them. Your panties are black and cotton.

“Now you do the same to me.” Jungkook says. He understands you by now, knowing that you’d never take the first move. He grabs your wrists and walks you through it. “Go ahead.”

You’re trembling, you note, as you remove Jungkook’s shirt - an oversize black shirt. You often are reminded how much Jungkook has grown over the years, going from a boy to a man. He worked out often and was athletic. He had many tattoos that litter his skin - you had gone with him for a few of them and pondered how he could sit so calmly.

“I’ll get up to make it easier.” Jungkook lifts from his bed and waits for you to continue. You’re as slow as before, hands trembling more than before. You tug at the sweats he wore, watching as they fall to the ground. You try to hide the fact that you gawk at the bulge in his briefs, swallowing at the sight.

“Y/N.”

You blink up to look at Jungkook.

“You trust me, right?”

You nod your head.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a grin. “Come here.”

Jungkook leans down, his hand grasping your chin. He no longer hesitates or holds back, placing his lips upon yours.

You’re shocked, completely stiff, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You’ll give into him eventually - it may take a few rounds, but you will.

You’re pushed backwards, back hitting the mattress. Jungkook hovers above you, his hands placing themselves onto your shoulders to keep you in place.

You gasp for air when Jungkook removes his lips from yours, but then they’re trailing down your jawline to your neck. You’re breathing heavily, unsure what to do.

“You can touch me.” says Jungkook, as if reading your mind. “Don’t just lay there.”

Jungkook continues to kiss at your neck, his left hand leaving your shoulder and grabs your hand. He places it upon his chest for you to take the lead. His hand then goes to your waist to pull you closer to him.

Your heart thumps that this is happening now - you and Jungkook. Goosebumps litter your skin, the hair standing straight up. But you do as you’re told, hand grabbing Jungkook’s bicep and squeezing it.

Jungkook forces your legs apart, wrapping them around his waist. You yelp when you feel him, his bulge grinding directly against you. There’s a deep groan from Jungkook that you hear coming from your neck.

“You have to engage.” Jungkook lifts slightly to look at your face. “Kiss me like I’m kissing you.”

You’re left stunned when Jungkook flips the both of you, his own back hitting the mattress and now you’re on top of him. He places his hands on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “It’ll be easier for you this way. I’ll let you take the lead.”

There’s a tension - one sided - when you lean down to his own neck.

“You’re still shy. It’s just me.” Jungkook sighs.

It was easier for him to say. He wasn’t the virgin - or the closed off one that has been homeschooled. The only friend she kept was Jungkook, and his friends, but mainly Jungkook. There was no one she could go to that was the same sex that she could vent to about her frustrations.

“Just let loose, Y/N. We’re friends. There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me view you differently.”

You try your best, even closing your eyes in hopes that’d be better. Your lips place themselves at the nape of Jungkook’s neck, and ever so gently did you kiss him. You allowed your hands to rub softly on his bare shoulders, kissing down his neck until you got to his collarbone.

Jungkook hums to himself, his cock twitching to be let loose from his underwear.

You were adjusting - only a bit - but you’d soon be fully accepting. Jungkook allows his hands to dip from your waist and he grabs your ass fully in his grasp.

You swallow, hiding back the surprised gasp. You don’t want Jungkook to think you don’t trust him - because you do. You don’t want to appear utterly shy and closed off. You were older than Jungkook and he had to be the one to show you what life was like, as sad as it was.

“Okay. Now kiss me.”

You nod your head. You want to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, but he doesn’t falter. “You’ll have to look at me eventually, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs.

“I know.” you murmur back, and now meet his eyes. Jungkook smiles when you do, and his head lifts slightly.

Your head dips down to capture his lips in yours once more. There’s a fire running through you this time at the feeling - no longer hesitant or awkward to kiss him. It felt…normal; as if this is something the two of you always did.

Jungkook’s teeth catch your bottom lip and he lightly tugs. “Let loose.” he whispers, and then dives into your mouth again. This time, his tongue pushes past your teeth and meets your own, it’s warm and slimy, but it causes you to moan.

Jungkook’s hands grip your ass, keeping you firmly against his erection. He rubs up your sides for a moment, then on your back. His hands are now on your bra and he appears to be swift in unhooking it.

“Kookie…” you murmur against his lips.

“It’s okay.” Jungkook responds. “You trust me, remember?”

You nod, but trust doesn’t help with your self–consciousness.

Jungkook tugs at your bra until it’s fully off of you. He disgards it, bare hands now taking your breast entirely. He doesn't care how heavy he’s breathing, or how rough his hands squeeze your breast.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook praises.

It’s weird hearing it - for you at least.

Jungkook rarely compliments you - not because he doesn’t think you are, but because he never really has a reason to. He sees you the same everyday - his best friend who he has breakfast, occasionally lunch and dinner with. You’re the same Y/N that he shares movie nights with where the two of you cuddle and laugh at whatever was on the screen.

Now, however, Jungkook has to compliment you. He has to let you know how beautiful you are now - a woman. You grew into your womanly curves over the years, hiding it behind loose clothing, but never truly hiding it. You never hid from him; occasionally wearing shorts that showed your legs and the roundness of your ass, or tank-tops that made your breast appear more plump.

You yelp when Jungkook pinches your nipple. He chuckles at your reaction. “So responsive.” he says, more to himself than to you.

“W-What-”

Jungkook’s tongue licks on your nipple, shuddering at feeling. He couldn’t help but to bring it entirely into his mouth, tongue twirling and suckling on it while his free hand pinches the other. There’s a euphoric feeling engulfing him right now. Yes, he did think about you sexually at times - he was a man and he couldn’t help it. But this was far better than any feeling, any thought or dream he’s ever had.

“Does it feel good?” Jungkook manages to say, popping your nipple from his mouth to just engulf the other one.

“Yes.”

You don’t intend to sound so soft and meek, moaning against Jungkook. But you couldn’t hide it any longer. You can feel the wetness between your legs, arousal pooling out - and Jungkook’s grinding didn’t make it any better.

“You can talk to me, Y/N. You can tell me how much you like it. How I make you feel.”

Jungkook kisses both of your nipples softly.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me how you feel.” Jungkook repeats. “Here,” his right hand drops your breast and without warning, he slaps your ass. The sound echoes, as does you shriek. “I love the way your ass feels.” he then squeezes it in the palm of his hands. “I love the sweet moans coming from those pretty lips of yours.” he continues.

You’re hot, Jungkook’s words cause a new sensation to run through you - nerves running through your body and meeting exactly between your legs.

“It feels good when you touch me.” you say, admitting even if you want nothing more than to hide.

“Yeah?” Jungkook lightly laughs. He squeezes your ass again. “What else?”

You huff, this time now hiding your face. Your head is between his shoulder and neck.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. Just tell me.” Jungkook encourages. “You trust me like I trust you.”

You sigh. Jungkook was going to be the death of you - you were going to die with embarrassment.

“I like the way you look.”

Jungkook, again, is swift with his movement. He’s once more on top of you. He’s now forcing you to look at him - as if you weren’t embarrassed enough.

You go to cover yourself, but that wasn’t something Jungkook was going to allow.

“Go on, Y/N.” Jungkook places a quick peck on your lips before he kisses down your neck to your collarbone.

Your breath is shaky - but it was all Jungkook. His hands rub along your sides as his lips send kisses between your breasts, going lower and lower. “You make me feel…different.”

Jungkook’s lips are now on your stomach. “What’s different?”

“Wet…?”

Jungkook groans. His fingers are hooked between your panties and he wants nothing more than to remove them and dive in, but he’d remain calm for now.

“Look at me, Y/N.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you’re unsure what Jungkook had in store for you.

You do, however, and Jungkook is now directly between your legs. Your thighs quiver at the sight.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks, and before you can answer, he places a single kiss upon your clothed clit.

Your throat tightens.

Jungkook wasn’t going to stop. He wanted to hear you speak - hear your thoughts, whatever moans you had in you. He didn’t want you to be shy - not with him. He wasn’t a stranger and who else should be the one to take your virginity than him?

Not Hoseok.

Not Namjoon.

Not Jimin - none of his friends.

Just Jungkook.

Dare he say he was entitled to it - you were his best friend. He was there for whatever you needed him to be; and this was one thing you didn’t come to him for (not at first). You wanted his assistance in finding you someone. The thought still upsets him.

“Kookie.” you sigh, hands crashing to your face.

“So shy.” Jungkook tsks. His hands grip your waist and he drags you to the edge of the bed, him falling to his knees before you. “I’ll take the lead.”

You feel your panties being tugged off. You’re unsure of what to do or say - you knew you had to keep breathing or you’d pass out. The coolness of the air hits you and now you fully accept that you’re naked for Jungkook, completely bare before his eyes to see.

You’re so wet, Jungkook notes, arousal coating your lips and thighs. The thought of how excited you’ve been and nothing has happened yet makes him groan, anticipating what's to come.

Your throat releases a gasp and instantly, your legs clench shut, caging Jungkook in.

“S-Sorry, i-”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax.” Jungkook laughs, a gleeful tone in his voice. He had done nothing but flick your clit with his tongue. “Watch me, okay?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook hooks his hands right on your thighs, holding them in a firm grip so you wouldn’t be easily reactive - not without him stopping you. He dips his head back between your legs, tongue dipping between your folds.

Your eyes flutter, unable to truly focus on Jungkook like he wants you to.

The sight alone is filthy - his head bobbing back and forth while his tongue assaults your clit. Occasionally, his eyes would dart up to capture your reaction, satisfied that you no longer hid your moans from him.

But the noises Jungkook made were another thing. He suckles on your clit, completely ravishing you as if it was the finest meal. He’s animalistic, not caring. He would draw his head back and spit, then continue his assault upon your clit.

“Kookie, I-I, you need to stop.” you try to get away from Jungkook, but he doesn’t allow it. If anything, Jungkook holds you even tighter. You were going to cum, of course, never truly experiencing a man going down on you. Your stomach churns and you feel like you are going to explode. “Kookie, please stop…”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at you. Your eyes are snapped shut and there’s a few droplets trailing down your cheeks. Jungkook grunts into your pussy. His fingernails dig into your naked flesh, his tongue laying flat against your clit. He continues to ravish you, not caring about your pleas - it was obvious you wanted more and was far too inexperienced to understand it.

Jungkook dives deeper and deeper, your cries only fueling him for more. Your arousal coats the bottom half of his face entirely.

There was another attempt to remove yourself, buckling your hips, but Jungkook only shoves you back down upon the bed. Your toes are curling and you’re unable to see straight. There’s a tightness in your stomach that’s utterly unfamiliar to you.

“I’m not going to stop.”

Jungkook’s voice is deeper - deepest you’ve ever heard it.

“Not until you cum.”

Jungkook’s right hand removes itself from holding your thigh, but that only means he’s holding the other tighter.

Your back arches when you feel his fingers at your entrance.

“I can’t-”

“You will.”

Jungkook doesn’t give a warning before entering his finger’s inside of you. You jump at the foreign feeling. You swallow back and shriek.

“So tight.” Jungkook murmurs to himself.

Two fingers is all you can handle for now. That doesn’t mean Jungkook goes easy on you. He pumps inside of you vigorously, your walls clenching around his digits. Each time he hits a deeper spot that has you jerking.

“I know it feels good, Y/N. My pretty girl.”

You can’t speak, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He pumps and pumps until you’re cumming all over him, arousal splashing onto the hardwood floors of his bedroom.

You’re a crying twitching mess, whimpering to yourself. Jungkook removes his fingers, satisfied with your appearance.

“I could fuck you right now. You’re so wet, Y/N.”

You exhale, eyes snapping open. “Kookie, I-”

“Don’t tell me you can’t take me.”

Jungkook pushes down his underwear and you freeze.

You’ve never seen Jungkook naked before, never going past witnessing him shirtless.

Now Jungkook is as nude as you, cock erect and hard. His tip is red and leaking with pre-cum, the shaft twitching in anticipation.

“I can’t.” you cry, now dwelling on the idea of having sex with the man.

Jungkook snickers. He grips his cock and slaps the tip against your wet clit. So wet, he thinks. Wet and warm, completely aroused because of him.

“You were willing to fuck my friends.”

Jungkook rubs the tip against your clit in slow circular motions. It makes a wet and sloppy sound as he does.

“They don’t love you, Y/N. Not like I do.”

You twitch at the feeling, overstimulated enough, even if it did feel good.

“Don’t you love me, Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes don't leave your clit. He continues to tap and circle the tip of his cock against it, the sight beautiful.

“I do…”

“Then why do you keep denying me pleasure?”

Jungkook removes his hand from his cock to place it upon your hips, keeping you in place. He begins to thrust forward, sliding his entire cock against your clit.

“I allowed you to cum, haven’t i?” Jungkook grunts. “Milked my fingers like a little whore. But you won’t let me fuck you.”

Jungkook’s words cause you to gasp - that and the way his cock feels against your already stimulated clit.

Jungkook’s open’s his mouth, a trail of saliva dripping right onto your clit, not because you needed it - you were literally dripping - but just because he wanted to. In his eyes, spitting upon you was an act of marking his territory and after he fucked you - and he was going to regardless - he would assure that only he would be the one fucking you afterwards; always and forever.

Jungkook continues to rub, his pace quickening.

“Do you think another man would have given you the satisfaction?” Jungkook hisses. “They would’ve fucked you and left, Y/N. This is why I’m here. I love you, my pretty girl…” his tone softens. “...so wet and ready for me. You’ll let me have you, right, Y/N? You’ll let me be the one who takes your virginity?”

Slowly, you nod your head. Jungkook was someone you loved greatly. He was a man and understood how men think - you couldn’t be upset with him now. “Okay…”

Jungkook smiles wide, full set of teeth shining at you. “My pretty girl. You’re always so good for me. Give me your hand.”

You do as Jungkook tells you to do, and he guides your hand to touch his cock. It twitches in your grip.

“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook demands and groans when you do. “Okay, baby…now center it at your pussy.”

You’re being so obedient for him, Jungkook thinks. He watches as you do what he tells you, the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole. “Good girl.” Jungkook mumbles.

“Don’t you need to wear a condom?”

Jungkook wants to laugh at your words. “Condoms are for people who have one night stands. Why would I wear a condom with you?” he asks, a tilt of his head. He had no intention of allowing you to fuck another man, so him not wearing a condom was alright.

You widen your eyes. “Pregnancy…?”

Again, Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, only stares into your wide eyes. He had no intention of impregnating you now, but if it happened, then it did. That only meant that it’s what the universe wanted.

“You know I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook says.

“I love you, too.” you respond.

Simpering, Jungkook nods. “I know.” he says, and then without warning, he enters you whole. There’s no warming upm Jungkook thinks, the faster he gets it over with, the faster pleasure will come for you.

When your mouth opens to shriek, Jungkook silences you with his lips. His hips snap inside of you, unable to stop. So tight, he thinks, fully milking his cock with your essence. It’s as though his cock fit perfectly inside of you; like a puzzle piece coming together to complete a set.

The pain is excruciating and you’re unable to pull away from Jungkook. His grip on you was intense, fingers bruising into your skin.

The sound of skin slapping is loud in the room, echoing off the walls.

“My pretty girl.” grumbles Jungkook when he releases your lips. “Thank you for trusting me, Y/N.”

The pain shoots throughout your body, but hearing those words from Jungkook was worth it to you. You blink away the tears so you can focus on his face.

“Soon the pain will go away, and you’ll love the way I fuck you.”

You nod. You trusted Jungkook.

It takes a while for the pleasure to come, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t. Jungkook hits your sweet spot, slamming you against his bed with each thrust. Your moans are loud for him, so sweet and melodic - he knew you had it in you to let loose.

“Feels good, pretty girl?” Jungkook questions, the question rhetorical. He knows by the way you clench around him that it does - that and your high pitched moans.

“Feels…so…good…” you grunt, panting along with each powerful thrust.

“Good.”

Jungkook removes himself just so he can turn you around, chest firmly against his mattress. He enters you once more, hitting even deeper than before.

Your eyes snap shut and your arms shoot out, gripping the bed sheets for support. Whatever you once imagined sex would be like didn’t give it any justice. Sex with Jungkook was a pleasurable feeling you’d never forget - you’re unsure how you’d ever be able to go back to masturbating once this was over.

Both of Jungkook’s hands place themselves on yours, entangling your hangers with his. His lips kiss your back, pounding inside of you with such passion.

There it was again, the churning feeling in your stomach.

“I feel you, baby.” Jungkook pants. It’s as if you never want him to stop, creaming his cock like your life depended on it. “Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”

You groan, shaking your head at how good you felt.

“I love you, Kookie.” you murmur so low that it’s barely audible, but Jungkook hears it loud and clear.

It causes Jungkook to grind into you deeper and deeper, feeling himself come undone at just words. You told him those three words many times before, but now it felt different. Intimate. This was something he’s never heard during sex - and if there was a chance he did, he wouldn’t care.

You were who Jungkook loved; his best friend since childhood.

You were the one who Jungkook wanted to hear the words from.

Jungkook’s cumming, his heaving breaths ticking the skin of your back. He doesn't bother to pull out of you, instead he milks your walls completely with his seed, shuddering with complete bliss.

Jungkook won’t regret it - cumming inside of you felt right. It wasn’t as if anyone else would be.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook coos, pulling out of you to tuck you further into his bed. He lays beside you, embracing you from behind. “You did so good for me.”

Your heart swells at the compliment, your eyes heavy with slumber.

Jungkook holds you tight as you drift to sleep, satisfied that you were here with him.

Not Hoseok or Namjoon or anyone else - but him.

After all, he was the only one who truly loved you for who you are and didn’t see you as just a hole to fill - he wasn’t like those other men out in the world. No, Jungkook was better than any man you could ever think about being with. He proceeds to place a kiss upon your temple, satisfied that you were his and his alone.

idol version

#best friends!#trivia-yandere #trivia-yandere masterlist #btswritingcafe #bangtan smut #btswriterscollective #yandere bts #bangtanwritershq #bangtanwriters net #jungkook smut #btswritersclub #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bff jungkook #방탄소년단

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honeekyuu · 4 months ago

Text

take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter one.

>>You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys.

You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.<<

series status: [complete]

masterlist. || next.

a/n: suna has two brain cells that rub together like little housefly hands when it comes to yn and literally at no other point

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

“You know what’s crazy? I haven’t gotten laid in, like, a year.”

Looking back, there was absolutely no need for you to admit that.

But right now, there’s a bottle of wine in your system, and you’re about halfway through a trashy rom-com on a Friday night. It’s not shy on mature scenes, either, which is why you’d said it, your eyes trained almost wistfully on the screen as the two leads stumble through the girl’s front door together and get straight to business.

And it’s only Suna here, also a bottle of wine deep. He won’t judge you for saying it, not when there’s over ten years of moments far worse than this, very securely tying you two together.

He is, however, far more scandalized by your words than you’d expected.

Suna flies up from his sprawled position on your couch, kicking his legs off the coffee table as he turns toward you.

“I beg your most genuine pardon?” He asks, jaw dropped as he stares. You laugh into your wine glass, incredibly tickled and very tipsy.

“You heard me,” You answer, nodding pathetically. His eyes bug out of his head, and you’re glad he’s intoxicated enough to be reacting to this with his most authentic self, the one that’s kind of an idiot and about 150% more expressive than any of your friends could ever peg him to be.

“A year ?!” He yells, dragging it out annoyingly. “There’s no fucking way, Y/n. No fucking way.”

“Tell that to my dry spell, Sunarin,” You laugh again, shaking your head. “I’ve gotten to know my fingers and also my vibrator rather intimately.”

You certainly would not have admitted that while sober, but Suna’s just as gone as you are, not skipping a singular beat as he slumps in place.

“That’s so fucked,” He groans, dropping his head to his hands. “This has to be illegal – this is cruel and unusual punishment. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Well, believe it,” You snort, pointing at the ongoing sex scene on the TV. “A year without rain, truly.”

“But why ?” He laughs pathetically, shaking his head as he turns fully to you and leans against the side of the couch. “ Why ?”

“I don’t know-” You shrug, waving your hand over your own body sarcastically. “Maybe it’s got something to do with this?”

You watch as he drags his gaze down the length of your body slowly, following the trail of your hand. He shakes his head afterward, finding your eyes with unspoken confusion.

You scoff, lifting your glass to him in acknowledgement. “That’s funny.”

“What?” He tilts his head. “What’s your body got to do with it?”

You look down at yourself, wondering if you’d magically become attractive overnight.

No, still the same. Thighs too thick, a tummy that pushes against your clothes and bunches up into little rolls, stretch marks and cellulite and all the lovely things guys hate to look at.

You’d always been a bigger girl. Food had been a happy place, a place of love and care. Ice cream dates with your dad after school, dinners out with your parents on weekends. Standing in your kitchen at the house in Hyogo – the childhood home that had come with the open doors of your neighborhood friends running in and out to play and snack on your mom’s cooking – and learning the family recipes, listening to your mom’s stern but warm guidance as she’d told you ‘ Do it this way instead, don’t add too much salt ’, the crickets buzzing loudly just outside the window.

High school had made food into a more complicated matter, because it had come with girls who’d poke fun at your uniform, bigger than theirs and still tighter than you were comfortable with. It had come with crushes on boys who would only talk to you to get information about other girls, girls who were worth their time. It had come with a strained relationship with your mother’s cooking, once so safe and kind and pure. You’d tried just about every diet known to man, and nothing had ever worked.

You’re in a place now where you’re just happy to be able to enjoy food to its full extent, whatever the cost. Good food in the body is more healing for the soul than starving and then binging and then starving again, viciously repeated. You fully believe this, and your mental happiness is the best it’s been in a long time, 26 years old and focused only on feeding yourself with good, clean ingredients and going to bed happy.

But it had taken a lot to get here, and you’re still recovering from the damage.

Luckily, high school hadn’t been all bad. In fact, Inarizaki High had had a weird way of changing your life. Boys and girls, nameless and faceless now, had ignored you and passed you over, only noticing you so they could use you – their personal entertainment, someone had admitted once.

But they’d also flocked to and thrown themselves at the feet of the most popular boys in school, vying for attention. The Inarizaki High Boys’ Volleyball Club.

The team was nearly legend, despite being just a group of regular teenage boys. Each player had his own group of fans, all unhinged in their own ways. The worst, unsurprisingly, were the girls attached to Miya Atsumu.

When he’d been assigned as your deskmate at the beginning of 2nd year, you’d felt a deep sense of dread. Would he make fun of you, too? If he did it, the entire school would be pelting insults at you by the end of the week. Would his fangirls start targeting you in worse ways, in the bathroom and during lunch?

But he’d been shockingly kind. Not a word uttered about your appearance or the things you’d eat. But not ignoring you like most boys do, not passing over you like he hadn’t even seen you.

He’d sat down that first day with a bright grin and a hand stuck out in your direction, all but yelling in your ear that it was nice to meet you and asking why he hadn’t met you before, his drawl heavier than your other classmates’ and a bit endearing, even on first meeting.

‘ I’m a bit forgettable ,’ You’d admitted quietly, but he’d just shot you a strange side glance.

‘ Says who? That ain’t nice. ’

You hadn’t known what to do with that.

You hadn’t known what to do with any part of Miya Atsumu, really. Not the daily greetings, screeched down the hall the moment he’d see you. Not the notes he’d pass to you during class, badgering you to become the Volleyball Club’s manager so you could become better friends. Not the way he could always kind of tell if you were upset by something someone said, because he would somehow become even louder after the fact, distracting you via sheer ear damage.

Not the way he’d become cold and detached the first time he’d actually witnessed someone bullying you, the way his bright eyes had dulled into nothing and held no guilt as he’d made a girl cry in front of the whole class.

‘ I don’t want to switch seats with you, ’ You’d told her, shaking your head. ‘ This is the one assigned to me- ’

‘ I don’t give a fuck, ’ She’d spit at you, pointing at her own desk, piled high with snacks from the vending machine. ‘ I left you a trail of food, little piggie – go follow it so that I can sit with Atsumu and give him something good to look at- ’

‘ Somethin’ good, huh? ’ He’d materialized just beside you, staring at the girl emptily. You’d almost been scared of the look in his eye. ‘ And who’s s’posed to give me that, you? ’ He’d cast a cursory glance over her, looking entirely unimpressed. ‘ You look like you couldn’t get through a single conversation with me.’

You’d gasped, eyes wide and watching as he’d flopped down into his chair and thrown his legs up on the desk, forcing the girl to scurry back from where she was leaning threateningly over you. He’d hummed, assessing her through narrowed eyes. ‘ You look like an only child. You an only child? You look it- Oh, no, I got it-’ And then he’d clapped, laughing brightly and nudging you, as though you weren’t frozen in shock. ‘ Don’t she kinda look like a girl you wouldn’t introduce t’your parents? Sure as shit not mine, at least.’

The girl had long started tearing up, the entire room watching in varying degrees of horror as Atsumu had just pulled a wrapped onigiri from his bag and offered it to you. He’d shot the girl a look of disdain when she’d started wailing, because Miya Atsumu was sharing his lunch with you, the girl that was forgettable.

‘ Yer makeup’s running, just so you know, ’ He’d state plainly, pointing up at her. ‘ My mom’s always talkin’ bout gettin’ waterproof shit- ’ He’d turned to you, eyes wide. ‘ You know ‘bout that waterproof stuff? Mascara, er whatever? ’

‘ I-’ You’d shaken your head. ‘ I don’t wear makeup, I don’t know- ’

He’d grinned in your face, eyes beaming in that bright way again, the way that you’d thought was guaranteed. You hadn’t realized how safe you’d found that brightness before now. ‘ You don’t wear makeup?’ He’d leaned back with a smirk, drawing the final line for everyone to hear and making it clear that you were not to be fucked with again. ‘ Naturally pretty, then. That’s how I like my girls. ’

The rest of high school had been a surreal experience.

You were impossible to pass over now, because everyone knew who you were. Girls were still cruel, but only in private, where Atsumu couldn’t see. Boys would still mention your weight, but only the ones who were rejecting your quiet confessions, and even then, they’d tried their best to deliver it politely.

Atsumu had never been more than a friend, of course, but he’d been a good one. The best one, really, considering that not even a few weeks into knowing you, his brother would regularly have to physically tear him away from you so they could make it to practice in time.

‘ I’m talkin’ here, Samu! We’re chattin’! ’

‘ Save it, fucker, we got shit to do! ’

You’d always found Osamu a bit easier to digest as a personality, and you’d hit it off right away – He’d been reading a magazine about baking when you’d met, and you’d mentioned wanting to try the cake on page 12, because you had the same one at home. He’d taken to you like a baby bird, asking you to try the random rolls and cakes and breads he would make at home. You’d been so shocked the first time he’d shoved a banana roll in your face that you hadn’t thought to consider calories or sugar or carbs or any of it. You’d just taken a bite and then spent the rest of the free hour taste-testing it again and again, using every ounce of your brain power to help him figure out what was perfect and what need improving.

But, if you were honest, you’d been more comfortable in the presence of his twin, in the tornado of genuine and terrifying care that was Atsumu. He’d always been honest and tactless, and – on the days when someone was unfortunate enough to have been caught saying something to you – he was cruel and mean and terrible, brutal without remorse. But he was your first ever best friend, exasperating personality and all.

And the only person worse than Miya Atsumu, really, was Suna Rintarou.

Your lunch breaks, originally alone and then suddenly with Atsumu, were even more suddenly shaken with the introduction of the VBC. To Aran and Kita and – crucially – to Suna, whose snarky demeanor and lack of a social filter was well-known by the time he’d flopped down into the seat in front of yours.

Suna, whose usual reaction to girls approaching him at lunch was to mumble ‘ Fuck off, please ’ lazily, through a mouthful of food and without ever looking up from his phone.

Suna, whose introduction to you had come with him pointing at your chopsticks, halfway to your mouth, and quietly asking ‘ Can I try that ?’ about your mother’s spring rolls. He’d leaned over the moment you’d stuttered a response – taking a huge bite right off of your chopsticks, even though you’d just met the boy 30 seconds prior – and then trading you some of his own mother’s cooking in return, half a rice ball set casually in your container.

Suna, who’d pried your phone from your slightly terrified fingers and entered his number, a steady stream of memes and YouTube videos buzzing in your pocket from that moment on.

Suna Rintarou, who wouldn’t only say something when he’d catch someone else being explicitly rude to you. He’d say something if someone even looked at you the wrong way or whispered to their friend in a way that he didn’t like.

‘ You got a problem? ’

‘ Something you wanna share with the class?’

When he’d come around the corner and find someone making pig noises in your direction or laughing at how your uniform fit-

‘ Were you not loved enough by your mother?’

‘Have you ever thought of seeking professional help?’

And when one boy had pushed at your shoulder – just a prod of his fingers, but rude all the same – you’d felt Suna’s presence more than heard it, a sudden chill hovering at your back.

‘ Apologize – on your knees – before I break that hand.’

The boy had hesitated, but he’d dropped to the floor soon after, because Suna had taken a step toward him. He’d muttered that he was sorry, and then repeated it louder when Suna had crouched beside him and whispered ‘ Again – like you mean it this time’ while smiling down at the hand he’d just threatened to break.

You’d been properly scared of Suna Rintarou for some time after that.

He’d noticed, his eyes following you in every room you’d walked into, an amused smirk on his lips.

He’d skipped practice one day to walk you home, hands in pockets as he’d trailed after you. No words had been shared, but he’d walked you home the day after, and then again. Atsumu had yelled at him for missing practice on the fourth day, so he’d started showing up in the morning instead, leading you quietly to school.

It had been raining one morning, about a week later, and you’d been rushing around your room to get ready, wondering if Suna would even bother to wait in the rain for you. Wondering when you’d started expecting him to be there.

You’d looked out the window, almost 45 minutes before you’d usually leave, and found him there. Under an umbrella, leaning on the gate and scrolling through his phone. You’d gasped, scrambling down the stairs with your mismatched pajamas and bedhead and yanking the door open.

‘ Suna Rintarou! ’ You’d scolded, and his head had popped up in surprise. It was the first time you’d properly addressed him during one of these morning walks.

‘ Get your ass in here! ’

He’d lifted his brows but listened right away, pocketing his phone and passing through the gate to your front door. Your mother had stuck her head out into the hallway, shocked at your tone.

‘ Who- ’ She’d started, but you’d just gestured in annoyance at the boy standing in your foyer trying to find a place to put his umbrella. You’d snatched it from him and leaned it on the door.

‘ This is Suna. Suna, my mom,’ You’d grumbled, realizing the state of yourself when Suna had just stared at the mess on your head and then pursed his lips to hide a smile.

‘ Oh, the stalker boy! ’ She’d clapped excitedly, and you’d barked out a laugh at Suna’s face of horror.

‘ I-No, I’m not-’ He’d stuttered, and you’d saved him by leading him to the living room.

‘ She’s just messing with you. You sit here and wait while I get ready ,’ You’d pointed at the couch and then disappeared upstairs, hurrying even more than before.

When you’d come back down, your mother had been urging him to the table to eat. He’d followed, clearly feeling out of place.

You’d eaten with him while your mom had been preparing a second bento, loudly exclaiming from the kitchen that athletes should eat more than three times a day. He’d just smiled gratefully and then eyed you, mumbling ‘ I liked your pajamas’ under his breath and snickering when you’d tried to swing at him from across the table.

It had been monumentally humiliating when, as you were pulling on your shoes, your mother had pulled him aside and very conspicuously thanked him for looking out for you.

‘ You’re such a nice boy, taking care of my girl. Kids can be so mean .’

You’d stood with Suna’s umbrella in hand, glaring at him over your mom’s shoulder, because he’d looked way too pleased with himself. He’d followed you out, forced to run as you’d stalked off into the torrential downpour with his umbrella. He hadn’t said anything for a while, just holding the umbrella and walking beside you for most of the journey. But just as the school had come into view, he’d smirked down at you and said-

‘ You told your mom about me .’

You’d run the rest of the way to school, preferring to sit all day in wet clothes over finishing that conversation.

You’d been forced after that to get used to Suna’s voice in your living room while you’d dressed for the day, and then the knock on your front door after practice, your mother sending him up to your room to lounge on your floor and copy off your homework.

You hadn’t been able to get rid of him, and more than ten years had passed just the same, college finding him more often in your dorm room than his own and post-grad life finding the two of you and the Miya twins in Osaka. Atsumu had been recruited to the Black Jackals, and Suna had opened a tattoo shop, practicing on himself through college until his skin had been covered in ink and a deposit had been put down on a small shop space not too far from your apartment.

You had formed a kind of soul-bond with Osamu over all things food-related, even with your own strained relationship with it, and you’d co-signed on an empty shop across the street from the Jackals’ home gym. You’d opened a cafe on one side, your culinary degree put to use on an extensive knowledge of coffees and teas, and Osamu had set up a bakery on the other side, the two of you decorating cakes and testing recipes for hours after closing time. Your shared shop had seen wild success, both due to your talents and due to being located in a tourist and sports enthusiast hotspot.

You’d each had your various failed relationships throughout the years, Atsumu currently in the midst of a secret situationship with Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Osamu crushing rather pathetically on Hinata Shouyou’s friend Yachi Hitoka, who runs a flower shop down the road. You’d become friends with her, at first to subtly put in a good word for Samu, but now mostly because she’s likely to appear at your counter at least twice a day to hang out and try the special of the day.

Suna had had a few short flings with girls in the area, one a model-beautiful blonde who’d, offhand in the middle of your cafe, offered to be your ‘gym buddy’, should you want one. She’d been dumped on the spot, Suna going so far as to pluck the iced latte from her hand and pour it out inside her purse while holding eye contact with her.

The girls after her had been equally beautiful, but he’d always find something about them that was unacceptable after a few weeks. This one too loud and bossy, that one too quiet and submissive, the other one too everything , as he’d put it. He’d never been happy with any of them, and you could only watch with bemusement and shake your head, brushing it off as being one of the many things about Suna that you wouldn’t try to understand.

All of your boyfriends – a total of three in the five years you’d all been in Osaka – had similarly found something wrong with you. It had always been the same thing, and you’d known it. You’d known it in the way their eyes would linger on other girls or the way they’d be less affectionate in public, less willing to hold your hand or put their arm around you.

You’d known it in the way Suna had hated every one of them, hands left unshaken during introductions and green eyes watching how you’d interact with them.

You’d always broken things off first, finding it a bit funny that they would get mad at you for it, as though they hadn’t just been swiping on dating apps when they thought you weren’t looking. Always mad at you for putting yourself first, because they thought themselves above you and couldn’t believe you thought you’d find better than them.

That’s why you’re sitting here now, on this Friday night with a bottle of wine in your system, wondering how Suna Rintarou is not understanding why your appearance is the barrier between you and breaking your dry spell. After everything , he’s not understanding.

“Dude, you clearly know what my body has to do with it,” You laugh. “You met my exes.”

“Well, yeah-” He waves you off. “But they were morons, so I don’t count them.”

“I feel like you probably should, since they have the majority opinion on girls like me,” You smile, taking another sip of wine.

Suna laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’ve been fucking with the right dudes, if you think those losers were representative.”

“Do you see guys lining up outside my door?” You offer with a bemused smile. He flops against the couch, sighing.

“I cannot believe it’s been a whole year. There’s no way- Not a single one-night stand?” He tries, almost desperate to figure this out. You just shake your head. “ Why ? Where the hell are you lookin’ for ‘em?”

You laugh wholly, reaching to put your glass down and turn back to the movie. “It’s fine, dude. I was just making a passing comment-”

“Nuh-uh-” He crosses his arms over his chest, nearly pouting. “We gotta get you laid. I’ve become invested in this.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring him. He nudges you with his foot.

“Let’s find you someone at Miya’s party.”

You groan, laughing a bit. The Black Jackals had recently had a home game, one where they’d positively obliterated the opposite team and subsequently sent hundreds of cheering fans into your shop after the match. Atsumu had invited a hoard of people to his penthouse to celebrate tomorrow night. You’d already planned to try finding someone, but it’s a bit worrying that Suna’s involved now.

“Okay, you don’t have to get so invested. I’ll try tomorrow, I promise.”

“Nope, I’m invested. This is happening. You’re getting laid tomorrow – it’s been decreed.”

You salute him lazily, mumbling ‘ If you say so’ and going back to the movie.

–

When Suna picks you up the next night, he’s frowning down at you.

“What is this, what are you wearing?”

You’re taken aback, looking down at yourself. You’d chosen a cute red dress and thrown a cardigan over it – you look fine.

“What about it?”

“No, no, no-” He marches into your apartment, hands on your shoulders as he leads you to your room. “What is this nice girl shit? Take this off-” He pushes your cardigan off your shoulders, wrestling you out of it.

You cross your arms right away, a bit self-conscious. It’s a dress with thin straps, and you’re not happy with how your arms look in it. “I wanna wear something over it, though.”

“Oh, that’s fine, sure,” He starts, poking his head into your closet and knocking clothes around. “Except that this is a party, not a church retreat. You’re not wearing the sweater or the dress.”

“But this is my best-” You start, but Suna’s seeing something all the way in the back and reaching for it, eyes bright.

“A- ha! ”

You groan, because he’s pulling out the single sleeveless dress you own. It’s a body-hugging, little black number, one that you’d bought online when you’d been feeling particularly confident. It still has the tag on it.

“I dunno, Suna-”

“Just put it on and lemme see,” He thrusts it at you, and then he’s gone, leaving you with an outfit you would never have chosen.

You put it on, staring into your mirror with a grimace. The dress is too tight – your hips are too wide, your thighs too on display. Your boobs are too big, making the material stick to your chest in a way you don’t like.

“I don’t know,” You call. “I don’t like it.” You start to reach for the zipper to remove it, since you have no intention of showing Suna. But he’s bursting into the room, a loud ‘ I’m coming in-’ warning you with enough time to not unzip the dress.

He stops short, a pair of black heels swinging from his fingers – apparently, he’d been digging through your collection of shoes at the door for good ones. They dangle at his side, his eyes trained on your body. You watch in the mirror as he drags his eyes down the length of you and then back up, his lips parted in a way you don’t understand.

When he meets your eyes, he snapping his mouth shut and swallowing, ears turning a bit red. You frown, taking it to mean that he’s seeing too much.

“Okay,” You sigh, turning to usher him back out. He blinks rapidly and backs up. “Go. I’ll find something else.”

“What?” He stops, not letting you push him anymore. “No, you’re wearing that.”

“Suna-” You laugh, planting your hands on his chest and trying to get him out. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t.” He shakes his head, steady against you. “You’re wearing that. You look really good.”

You blink, confused. “What? Did you see what I saw?”

“I saw the exact same thing you saw. You’re wearing that.”

“Dude, no-”

“Yes-” He cuts you short, rounding you and pushing you out toward the living room. You shake your head, trying and failing to go back. “Stop arguing with me.” He puts the heels in your hand and disappears to the table for your purse. You stand in front of the mirror by the door, turning this way and that to look at yourself. You don’t see what he’s talking about.

He comes to stand behind you, and you examine him, too. He’s got on black jeans and a silver belt, with a black tee tucked into his pants and a thin chain hanging loosely around his neck. There’s a long-sleeve shirt thrown over it, and his lip ring and heavily pierced ears glint in the light. His hair hangs low over his eyes, and he lifts a hand to push it back. He’s wearing a silver bracelet you’d gotten him a few years ago for Christmas, your matching one sitting in your jewelry box.

He looks really fucking good.

You sigh angrily. “I cannot be seen with you.”

He just lifts a brow. “Problem?”

You examine him again, pointing at his reflection. “Take your top shirt off. Lessen the whole… punk-rock, skater-boy vibe, please.”

He grins, handing your purse over and then stripping, the long-sleeve tossed carelessly toward your couch.

You roll your eyes. His black tee is tight on his biceps, and all his tattoos are on display.

“That’s great. That’s really great.”

“What?” He laughs, and you just shake your head, bending down to put your heels on.

“You look like an entire meal, feeding women everywhere, and I look like a sausage roll.”

He doesn’t answer, and you glance at the mirror, finding his eyes trained very obviously on how you’re bent in front of him, both eyebrows lifted just slightly.

“Are you staring at my ass?”

“Huh?” He jumps, blinking. “What’d you say? Sausage roll?”

You stand, leveling him with an empty glare. “Don’t force yourself, Sweetheart. I committed to the outfit already.”

He shakes his head, looking a bit dazed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you most certainly don’t look like a sausage roll.” He follows after you as you turn off the lights and leave the apartment, waiting behind you while you lock the door. “ Like a present that desperately needs unwrapping, maybe ,” He mumbles under his breath.

You pause, key in the door, and look over your shoulder at him with a brow raised in amusement. “What are you doing, Suna?”

He blinks lazily at you. “Honestly? Regretting that dress.”

You roll your eyes and pull the key from the lock, following him down the hall to the elevator while he shakes his head with a small sigh.

“Whatever. What time should we come back?”

He laughs, hitting the button on elevator panel that’ll lead to his car. “I thought we agreed. Not until you’ve been fucked stupid.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at his wording. “I think that was just you decreeing things. I’m a bit more realistic.” You smile mockingly up at him, and he nudges you as you walk through the parking garage.

“You’ll find someone.”

You start to argue, but you see where he’s parked, and you’re not happy.

“You didn’t bring your car.”

He leads you toward his motorcycle, tossing you a curious look over his shoulder. “Nope. Bike’s easier to park on the street.”

You gesture down at yourself angrily, snatching up the helmet he’s handing you. “I cannot sit on a motorcycle with my legs spread in this dress.”

He smiles, glancing down at your thighs. “Why? Not wearing anything under?”

You smack him with the helmet. He just throws a leg over the bike and holds a hand out for you. You do your best not to flash him as you hike a leg over the seat behind him.

Suna waits for you to adjust and re-adjust the dress until you’re sure you won’t be giving anyone a show on the way there. But when you put on the helmet and pat his shoulders to signal that you’re ready, he reaches back and wraps both hands around your thighs, dragging you closer to his back. You scream, slapping his hands, but he just pulls your arms around his waist.

“Gotta make sure you’re safe and sound,” He says, muffled through his helmet, but you can still hear the laugh in his voice.

“I hate you,” You state loudly. He just kicks the bike into life with a snicker.

The ride to Atsumu’s penthouse is a nightmare of checking your dress at red lights and praying no one’s seeing anything. By the time you get there, you’re stressed.

“What’d I tell you?” Suna asks, sliding into a narrow parking spot right outside Atsumu’s building. “Easier parking.”

“I hate you,” You repeat, letting him help you awkwardly off the bike and immediately fixing everything. He pulls the helmet gently off of you and brushes your hair out of your face. And then he smiles lazily.

“You’re so getting laid tonight. I can feel it.”

You don’t bother responding, just following him into the lobby. The front desk girl waves you through, recognizing you. Her eyes trail down your body, eyebrows raised, and you’re immediately self-conscious. But she leans over the desk, calling out as you’re reaching the elevator.

“You look really pretty!”

You blink, looking back and then up at Suna. “She talking to me or you?”

“You,” He laughs. “Definitely you.”

“Oh-” The elevator dings, signaling Atsumu’s arrival to get you up to the penthouse with his key, but you’re calling back to the girl with an awkward laugh as the doors open. “Thank you!”

“Hey- Holy shit- ”

You turn, finding Atsumu inside the elevator, staring at you with comically wide eyes and a dropped jaw. He stares so long that the elevator doors close between you, and he’s rushing to open it again. You give him a weird look.

“What?”

He shoots you a look of disbelief. “What d’ya mean, ‘ what ’? Look at you!”

You follow Suna into the elevator, mumbling, “I regret buying this dress.”

Suna shakes his head, leaning back against the wall and addressing Atsumu. “She won’t listen to me about the dress.”

Atsumu’s still staring. “What’re you tryna do, get laid?”

Suna looks at you with lifted brows and a pleased grin. “See? He gets it.”

“Damn, if Omi ‘n I weren’t-” Atsumu shakes his head, whistling. “You’d have trouble gettin’ rid of me.”

You flush, crossing your arms over your middle. “Tsumu… I really don’t look bad?”

“No way ,” He laughs, still staring. “I might go break up with ‘im, honestly.”

You laugh, face warm as you stare down at your feet. Suna scoffs beside you.

“Oh, sure, believe him but not me.” He smiles when you nudge him, and then he claps once. “Okay, here’s the plan. We cannot be seen together.”

You furrow a brow. You’d only been joking earlier. “Why?”

“Because-” He gestures down at your outfit. “- you came to get laid, and sticking to me all night will obviously mess that up.”

“But-” You don’t like not being able to stick to Suna – and, by that logic, Atsumu or Osamu – when you feel this vulnerable.

Suna shakes his head. “Nope. You gotta put yourself out there. Find someone you like and seduce him until you’re getting dragged into one of Miya’s spare rooms.” He points at you, eyes sharp. “Don’t leave with him, though. I don’t need you getting murdered.”

Atsumu nods along, finally peeling his eyes off of you to stare at the panel. You’re almost at the top. “Got lots of ‘em, spare rooms. Use one.”

You swallow nervously, watching the last two floors tick away. Suna pats you on the shoulder.

“You got this. Don’t come find me until you’re done.”

The doors open, leading straight into Atsumu’s living room.

You’re forced to wave goodbye to your safety net – he sends you off with a wink and a mouthed ‘ You look good ’. You square your shoulders and shake out your nerves, heading to the kitchen.

After finding a drink, you wander into the living room. Suna’s on one of the couches, talking to Bokuto. Atsumu’s sitting a friendly distance from Sakusa, looking like he very much wants to be in the man’s lap instead.

You see Osamu near the window, talking to someone you don’t know but looking across the room. You follow it, finding Yachi and Hinata, and make a beeline straight for her.

“Hi!” You say, and they both turn to look at you. Hinata flushes upon seeing your dress, and Yachi squeals as you sit beside her.

“You look so good, Y/n!” The younger woman hugs you tight, and you flush.

“Thanks… I’m really out of my element here,” You laugh, greeting Hinata. “Hi, Shouyou.”

“H-Hey-” He coughs. “You look really nice.”

You warm again, wondering if maybe you really don’t look half bad. “Thanks! You look good, too.” You point at his arms, seeing that he’s built some more muscle since you’d last seen him. “You really bulked up.”

He’s as red as his hair, eyes flicking to your thighs and then away. Your phone buzzes in your purse, and you peek at it.

[10:22 PM]

Sunarin : believe me yet?

You find him, seeing that he’s flicking his brows and glancing toward Hinata. You roll your eyes with a smile and start to put your phone away, but it buzzes again.

Sunarin: you got the poor guy stressed out

Sunarin: look at him

You glance at Hinata out of the corner of your eye. Yachi’s talking to him about something, and he’s nodding and giving the appropriate number of ‘ Uh-huh ’s, but his eyes are drifting toward you repeatedly, gaze on your thighs and chest and hips before he’s remembering to keep his eyes on Yachi. He shifts, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly.

Your stomach flips when you realize that Hinata really is checking you out.

Would you sleep with Hinata? You really like him as a person, and you trust him enough. But you’re not sure that sleeping with any of your friends’ friends is a good idea, in case things get weird. But – on the other hand – you do trust the people that you’ve gotten to know over the years, the Black Jackals all great guys. You don’t know if you’re ready to try to snag some guy you don’t know at all – that’s more likely to end badly.

You sigh, taking a sip of your drink. You just got here. You should wait it out, test all the waters and see what calls to you. Hinata’s very cute, but you shouldn’t jump his bones just because he’s giving you attention.

He’s a friend , you remind yourself. And the party’s just starting.

You talk to Yachi and Hinata for a long while, and – when Osamu finally builds the courage to cross the room and engage Yachi in conversation – you’re left with Hinata. You fall into easy conversation with him for almost an hour, laughing and smiling and leaning against him when your head starts to get a little fuzzy. He cracks jokes and tells stories excitedly and asks about your shop and life, and you feel incredibly fond of him.

So fond, in fact, that you’ve unconsciously decided that Hinata’s not the right guy for this. You really do like him, and you really do like the energy you have together, but that makes a one-night stand with him incredibly unappealing. You’re not desperate enough to risk the friendship you seem to be solidifying with him right now.

So when you glance up and find that Kageyama Tobio has arrived and is glancing awkwardly at Hinata while he talks to Atsumu, you smile at the ginger next to you.

“You shouldn’t let me keep you, Shou,” You say, and he smiles at the nickname. “I’m sure there’s someone here who you’d have a better time with.”

He furrows a brow, so you tilt your head in Kageyama’s direction. When he sees his old friend standing there, he swallows and flushes.

“Mm-” He laughs, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” You nudge him. “Go.”

He eyes you, seeing that you seem set on not letting things between you go anywhere. And then he nods, snaking an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Okay, fine. But I better hear about whose heart you break tonight.”

You laugh, squeezing his arm as he goes. And then you sigh, a bit resigned. It was the best choice, you know it.

Your phone buzzes.

[12:11 AM]

Sunarin: WHERE IS HE GOING

Sunarin: GO GET THAT SMALL MAN

You snort into your cup, eyeing him. He’s still on that couch, but he’s not speaking to anyone, just staring at his phone and glaring at you when he sees you looking.

Sunarin: he was ready to risk it all for you bro

You shake your head.

You: hes my friend, i couldnt do it

Sunarin: you wont fuck a friend?? thats like 85% of the ppl here!!

You: NOT THAT ONE

Sunarin: christ,,,, okay get back out there, soldier

Sunarin: I expect to walk past one of these rooms in the next hour and hear you having the time of your life

You: youre so heinous

You stand, heading toward the kitchen for another drink. You feel Suna watching you, but when you glance at him, he’s scrolling on his phone and ignoring everyone who approaches him. You text him when you get to the kitchen, head down.

You: should we just go?

You: i dont wanna keep you waiting

Sunarin: i mean this in the nicest way possible

Sunarin: stop being stupid

Sunarin: bc i will block you

You: hello??

Sunarin: idgaf how long i sit here

Sunarin: find a man and fuck him

Sunarin: that is your assignment

You: sir yes sir

You look up, intending to scan the room for your liquor of choice. Instead, standing in the corner by the other doorway, in a group of four guys, is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. You have no clue who he is, but he’s got dark hair and a cool smile and piercings, and you are utterly stopped in your tracks.

He catches it, glancing over at you and nodding in greeting. You smile tightly and move to the counter, pouring out the first thing you can find. You text Suna discreetly, something incredibly elegant.

You: AHAAWEFJAWOIFEJKAE FUCK

The counter where you stand is actually a bar with beams on the side, so the living room is entirely visible from here. You see Suna perk up, his head lifting as he peers over someone’s head to meet your eyes. He glances over your shoulder at the group, but you go back to pouring your drink while you calm your nerves, so you don’t see his reaction.

There’s fervent whispering behind you, and then footsteps. You spot three of the guys passing into the living room, so you glance back.

The beautiful man is still leaning against the opposite counter, but he’s got his phone out, invested in something he’s looking at. You see the three guys looking generally in your direction, and you wonder if maybe they’ve left their friend here on purpose. You glance at him again and then steel your nerves, turning carefully.

“Whatcha drinking?”

The guy’s eyes flick to yours, his brow lifting. He lowers his phone but doesn’t put it away, and he smiles at you. “Rum and coke. You?”

“Uhm-” You laugh. “I have no idea. I think there’s tequila in it.”

He grins easy. “Oof. Tequila always gets me. Kinda scared of it.”

You smile into your cup as you take a sip.

Across the room, Suna watches you talk to a guy he doesn’t recognize. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, the kind of bad feeling he’d always get around your exes. He watches the group of guys that have just come out, seeing that they’re eyeing you and whispering.

Then one laughs, and he knows this isn’t good.

He stands, moving toward Atsumu without taking his eyes off of you. You’ve stepped a little closer to the guy, and Suna feels his heart hurt a bit. You’re putting yourself out there, and the guy you’re doing it with is bad news.

“Miya,” He says, cutting Atsumu off where he is struggling to keep a good distance between himself and Sakusa. The blond looks up, clearly drunk.

“Hah?”

“Who are those guys?” He points with his cup, and Atsumu stands, squinting.

“Oh, I dunno. I think they’re friends of Bo’s.” Atsumu points toward Bokuto, who’s telling a story excitedly to a large group of people. “You know how he is. Always meetin’ people and makin’ friends. I let them up like 20 minutes ago, maybe?”

Suna swallows, watching how the guy you talk to lifts a brow at you. You must have tried to say something flirty, but he’s not taking it well. He’s starting to look like he’s looking down on you.

Atsumu hums, seeing it, too. “Want me to go over there?” His voice is clearer than it had been a minute ago.

“No, I got it.” Suna’s gone before he finishes the sentence, moving quickly.

Atsumu watches him go and then finds his brother in the crowd, sitting with Yachi. Samu’s looking over his shoulder, trailing after Suna, and then he turns. The brothers lock eyes, sharing a knowing smirk. Samu just shrugs, and Atsumu shrugs back.

Whatever Suna’s about to do, there’s no stopping it.

In the kitchen, you realize that this guy’s resolutely uninterested in you when a girl comes into the room and his attention is entirely gone.

You look, seeing that this unassuming girl is exactly what you’d expected. You glance at the guy again, finding a hungry gaze that trails over her body. Your stomach drops a bit, and you look over your shoulder toward his friends.

They’re standing at the bar, peeking at you and snickering to each other.

Oh.

Right.

You stare down into your cup, wondering when you’d let your guard down.

It hurts a little more than expected.

You smile up at the guy one last time, raising your cup to him.

“It was good to meet you.”

“Uh-huh,” He mutters, not listening. You blink and turn away, heading to leave. You can’t help but look at the girl as you go, seeing how beautiful she is. She looks up, smiling kindly at you, and you smile back. She seems sweet.

You go to pass her, leaving the way you came in.

“Y/n.”

You jump, turning back. Suna’s standing at the other door, by the guy you’d been talking to, his face relaxed but his eyes sharp. Only now do you realize they kind of look alike.

What is he doing?

“Oh-”

“There you are,” He smiles easily, stepping into the room.

Huh?

“Uh-”

“I’ve been looking for you all night.”

The guy looks between you and Suna. You look between him and Suna. The girl leaves with her drink, entirely unaware.

“Oh… Really?” You look out toward the living room, finding the other guys also watching Suna with confusion.

“Yeah. I was hoping you’d come,” He replies easily, stepping toward you.

His eyes flick down toward a spot on the floor that’s closer to him, and you drift there, eyeing him. He moves around you and reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring himself a drink. He offers it to you, too.

You watch him glance over your shoulder at the group of guys, and you realize he’d turned you around and put himself in view of them. So they could see him.

Why?

“Sure,” You say, curious to see where this goes, and tilt your cup toward him. “Thanks, Suna.”

“Rin,” He responds, tilting his head to smile down at you, flirty and cheeky in a way you’d never seen from him. “You can call me Rin.”

You almost snort. “Okay. Rin.”

“I missed you last weekend,” Suna says, making a point to drag his eyes down the length of your body before he takes a sip of his drink.

You lift a brow, smirking up at him. He’s the only one who can see the teasing look you give him before you respond, playing into his game.

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the five missed calls. I was sleeping, by the way. It was one in the morning.”

He smiles at your line, and you can tell it’s genuine. He shrugs, holding eye contact and leaning in a little. “What can I say? I know what I like.”

“What you like…” You smile down into your cup, nodding. “And what would that be, Rin ?”

“Well-” He swallows, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he eyes you. “This dress, for one.” And then he slides his free hand over your waist, playing with the material. “It looks really good on you.”

His eyes have darkened by the time you meet them again, and it makes you a little nervous to realize that you’re unsure if it’s real or not. Your mind flashes to how he’d watched you bend over in front of your mirror earlier. Your fingers start to tingle.

Someone comes in behind you, and you use it as an excuse to look away from Suna and glance over your shoulder. The guy you’d been talking to is still there, but he’s got his eyes on your dress, interest lingering around your thighs.

You quirk a brow and turn back to Suna, feeling annoyed that this guy had only found you worth looking at once another guy had. Suna eyes you briefly, and you read the expression.

Want me to leave you with him?

He doesn’t look happy about the idea – you’re not happy about the idea – but you can tell he’s hesitating to continue, because the guy is paying you attention now.

He must not realize that you’d lost interest in that guy the moment his gaze had drifted. It’s Suna’s attention you’re nervous about now.

Still, you know that he’d only come to show that group of guys that you’re worth considering, so you tamper the feeling and lean into his game again.

You step close to him, watching how his eyes light up a bit, and slide a hand over his bicep. You make a point to trace the outline of one of his tattoos there, watching with a smile as goosebumps form wherever you scratch your nail gently against his skin.

“Is there something you wanted, Rin?” You look up at him through your eyelashes when you ask, wide and innocent.

You see the exact moment that something changes.

Suna’s eyes widen marginally and drop to your lips, green eyes heavy on you as he pulls his lip ring between his teeth and plays with it. His hand tightens on your waist, fingers pressing into your lower back and pulling you toward him.

“Just…” His gaze flicks between your mouth and your eyes. “Wanted to see if we could make up for lost time. Maybe somewhere more private?”

Suna Rintarou means to pull you into one of Atsumu’s spare rooms.

You blink, a sudden flush rising on your cheeks as your stomach flips. You squeeze his bicep, anchoring yourself to him. He just stares at your mouth.

You nod after a moment, poking your tongue out to wet your lips. He watches it. “Okay… That sounds good.”

His eyes snap to yours, suddenly filled with something that hadn’t been there before. When he sets his cup on the counter and steps around you, hand finding yours and pulling you after him, you realize it’s urgency. You barely manage to put your drink down without spilling it.

All four guys watch you get dragged out of the room and toward an open door not even 15 feet away.

You have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen.

You step into the room, closing the door with your free hand. “What are we-”

Suna spins, planting both hands on your hips and pinning you hard against the door. You gasp, eyes wide, and he lifts one hand and sets it on the door next to your head.

“I want to kiss you,” He says bluntly, breathing out hard. “Do you want to kiss me?”

You blink, lips parted, searching his face. You only find heat in his eyes, and it makes a spot under your navel tingle.

Do you want to kiss him?

“Yes,” You whisper, nodding shallowly. “Yeah-Yes.”

He breathes slowly, eyes dropping to your mouth.

There’s a moment of nothing, one where all you can hear is the muffled music and laughter through the door, the space between you and Suna Rintarou completely silent.

And then he’s surging forward.

You cannot, for the life of you, understand why you hadn’t thought of doing this before.

He pushes his lips against yours with force, full and impatient. You throw your arms around his neck, angling your head. The hand he has on the door comes to cup the back of your head, holding you tight against him, and you card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching your nails against his scalp.

Suna pulls back with a sharp inhale, his mouth hovering over yours. You blink hazily, your head fuzzy and warm.

“ Oh… ” You mumble.

“ More? ” He breathes, sounding just as shaken. The hand on your lower back pulls you flush against him, and you feel something pressing against your thigh. Your skin hums with anticipation, and you nod, your eyes still half-closed.

“More’s good…”

Your back hits the door and your hair’s being tangled around his fingers, head pulled to the side as his mouth finds your throat. The ring on his lip is cold between your flushed skin and the burn of his mouth, and his tongue passing over your pulse as he nips at the spot has a weak whimper falling past your lips.

“ Louder ,” He murmurs, the vibration echoing through your throat and down to your toes. He sucks harder on the spot just under your jaw, and you moan properly and in his ear. “Good, just like that,” He bites down and then swipes his tongue over it, soothing and warm. “Want them to hear you.”

Your heart pounds, and you cling to his shoulders, letting out a noise of confusion.

“Who?”

“You know exactly who.”

You remember that you’d just been talking to some other guy, that his friends had been making fun of you.

You’d already forgotten.

“Why do you-” You gasp, shuddering when he pulls your hips toward him, pressing his own against you. He’s hard– He’s already hard, and you haven’t done anything. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Why do you want them to…”

Suna suckles at a spot under your ear before lifting his head and planting his lips on yours. His hand leaves the safety of your waist and slips up past your ribs. You push your chest out, silently urging him to keep going.

“I want them to-” He swears under his breath as his hand closes around your breast, fingers kneading gently. He kisses you hard. “-know what they’re missing. How badly they fucked up.”

You’re out of breath when he pulls away, and you circle your arms tightly around his neck so you can lift onto your tiptoes and kiss him again. He touches you urgently, thumb brushing over your nipple once and then again when you mewl into his mouth. He drops his lips to your throat again, freeing you to make as much noise as you need.

You sigh loudly, because his other hand is falling to your waist and tugging at your dress. The material slides up your body, exposing your thighs and then even more to him. He leaves it around your hips, fingertips dancing down to your panties.

“Can I-” He hooks two fingers into the band, mouth hot on your skin as he heaves out an unsteady breath. You nod furiously, not a single thought of how you look or feel passing through your head. Not a single thought that he might not want this, because you can feel so plainly against your bare thigh that he does.

Later, you won’t be able to name a single other time you hadn’t been self-conscious in the exact same situation with different men.

He tugs your panties unceremoniously down to your thighs, fingers trembling just slightly when he presses them against your inner thigh. You whimper as he pushes your thighs apart, cold air rushing against your core and sending a jolt of realization through you.

You haven’t been touched by someone else in over a year.

“Wait, Suna-” Your protest is muffled against his lips. “I’m not gonna-I won’t last long-”

“Good,” He breathes, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “Fucking good . I don’t want you to last-” He pushes his mouth to a million different places in quick succession, almost like he’s losing his mind just as fast as you are. His fingers hover between your thighs, cold against your heated skin. “Just want you to come, just to take the edge off.” He kisses you forcefully and murmurs against your lips. “ Just want you to come for me .”

He pulls away just in time for a moan to fall past your lips, ringing through the room. It’s embarrassing how loud it is, how desperately you’d reacted to his words alone. But Suna just smiles breathlessly down at you, face open and honest and eyes gleaming with a wicked anticipation that makes you tremble a bit.

He’s still holding eye contact when he presses against your core, his two middle fingers sliding through your folds.

You gasp so loud that it spills into a moan, and your head falls back against the door with a hard thump , his name ripped from your throat in something close to a scream.

“ Suna- ”

“ Fuck, ” He groans, dropping his head to your shoulder and sliding his fingers against you again. “Fuck, you feel so good-”

“S-Suna-” You cry again, fisting the sleeves of his t-shirt with white knuckles. “Oh, my God-”

He latches onto the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there as he swipes the pads of his fingers against your clit. “Don’t call me Su- fuck -” He cuts short, because your hips are moving on their own, rocking against his fingers. The tip of his middle finger catches on your entrance, and you gasp loudly, pushing your chest against his as you stare up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand why this feels so good, why you can’t get this feeling on your own. Why the thought that the man doing this to you is Suna Rintarou makes your nerves tumble and twist and tug at the coil that’s warping under your navel, under his touch. You hadn’t thought to want him before, not really, because he’s Suna . Your Sunarin, your piece of home.

And he’s making you feel something no one before him ever had.

You don’t think you can come back from this.

All rational thought flies from your mind when Suna brushes his middle finger against your entrance again, with purpose this time. You gasp, clinging tight.

“ Su- ” He shoves his mouth against yours, murmuring his own name, murmuring ‘ Rin, call me Rin’ against you, suckling on your bottom lip. He pulls away to watch you again, to find your eyes like he had last time.

And then he pushes his finger into you, slowly and then all at once.

“ Oh, ” You gasp, your eyelids fluttering. “Rin- ”

He pulls out, crooking his finger, and then slides back in, nodding as his palm slaps against your clit. “ ‘s good, baby ,” He mumbles, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “ Again, just like that .”

You think the scream of his name when he slams his fingers into you repeatedly is loud enough to be heard over the whole party. He laughs against your throat, humming, and pushes a second finger in, drawing another moan out of you as his fingers reach places that yours never can. “That’s it, let them hear you.”

The coil in your navel twists viciously when something cold and metal slides against your thighs with each thrust of his fingers into you, because you’re realizing that it’s the bracelet – the bracelet that you’d given him those handful of years ago, the friendship bracelet that you have in your jewelry box at home.

You don’t think your past self would ever believe this is where that bracelet is now.

Suna pants against your skin, still rock hard against your thigh. “Let them hear how good I make you feel ,” He breathes, and your heart skips, that coil yanking.

“Oh, I’m gonna-” You gasp, fumbling to tug at his shirt, to tell him. He lifts his head to look at you.

And then he promptly yanks his fingers out of you.

You jerk at the feeling, and your heart sinks as your orgasm starts to fade. All you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes, the disappointment written all over your face, because you don’t know what you did to deserve that.

It turns quickly to confusion when Suna spins you around, and suddenly your face is pressed against the door, hips pulled out toward him. You gasp, planting your hands on the door to steady yourself, your face rushed with heat at being bent over in front of him.

That moment in front of your mirror had not prepared you for this.

“What-”

“Please-can I-” He asks, the clink of his belt and then the zipper of his jeans loud as he yanks on it, and you nod against the door.

“Yes, yes please,” You beg, pushing your hips back more.

“ Shit ,” He swears under his breath. “I wanna do this better-” You jump when something hot brushes between your thighs, something hot and incredibly hard. “-Later, when we get home, I wanna-” He pushes the head of his cock gently through your folds, and his groan mixes with the choked moan you let out against the door.

“Just wanna get you off once before we go, just wanna make you come once around me,” He finally gets out, hissed through his teeth as he guides himself to your entrance. “‘s that okay? Can I?”

You whimper loudly, nodding again and throwing his own words back at him, desperate and begging.

“ T-Take the edge-jus’ to take the edge off- ” You stutter through it, your heart doing leaps and your nerves on fire. You push your hips back against him, whining when he brushes against you again.

Suna groans, and he pushes his hand against the door by your face as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, that bracelet staring you dead in the eye.

“Fuck ,” He whispers, shaking his head. “Fuck , Y/n. You-”

He slips the head of his cock past your entrance, sliding into you slowly.

You stop being able to feel your legs.

Suna moans your name, low and in your ear, and your eyes roll back into your head at the sound.

Why had you gone so long without hearing him say your name like that?

“ Rin ,” You whimper, and he presses a kiss to a spot behind your ear.

“You’re driving me insane,” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you believe me earlier? Why couldn’t you believe me? Can’t you see now how badly I want you?” He starts to pant in your ear, because he’s drawing his hips back with a hiss and then pushing back in slowly. “Fuck, you’re too-”

You suck in a breath when his fingers find your clit, his hips stilling. You moan, feeling yourself clench around him. Feeling, for the first time in a year, truly full in the way that you’d craved.

You clench around him again, and he groans into your neck.

“You’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop doing that,” He pleads, breathing hard against your ear.

“ Why won’t you move ?” You whine, unable to help it.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your skin. “You want the romantic answer or the realistic one?”

You can’t help but giggle, because he’s making a stupid, Suna-flavored joke in a moment like this. “The romantic one.”

You feel him smile wide, even as the pads of his fingers slide against your clit, the little bundle of nerves that makes you twitch.

“I just wanna get you off, I don’t care about myself right now.,” He tries, laughing a little. “It doesn’t matter – all that matters is you, and I can get you off just like this.” He circles your clit again, and your laugh is breathy and sensitive.

“And the realistic one?” You smile when he bites down on your shoulder briefly.

“You’re so tight that it actually hurt when I tried to move,” He explains, and you clench unintentionally. “Come on , Y/n, don’t do this-” He swipes his fingers against you faster now, trying to get you close.

It doesn’t take long, not with Suna’s fingers on the most sensitive part of your body. Not with him buried inside you, throbbing and twitching with every whine and moan that falls past your lips. Not with his mouth pressed to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine and his quiet groans making your toes curl.

“ Come on, baby, ” He whispers, pushing his fingertips against you. “ Let me take the edge off, just like you said. Let me do this for you. ”

Your moan comes out as more of a sob, and your eyes feel a bit wet. The coil in your navel tightens and pulls with every word.

“ Come around me, Y/n. I wanna feel it– I wanna feel you- ”

You gasp, your nails scratching against the door as your fingers curl into fists, and your voice is clear and sharp for the first time in a while. “Su-Suna, I’m-”

-close, I’m close-

“Fuck, I think I am, too-” He admits, even though he hasn’t moved an inch. He shudders against you, breath shaky. “You first, so I can pull out-”

“ Mm-mm- ” You protest. “ ‘s safe, ‘s fine, I’m- ”

You don’t have the time or energy to explain that you’ve been on birth control for years, but it doesn’t matter, because he groans. He understands.

“Are you sure-” He chokes, and you hear a low whine in his throat. The sound pushes you to the edge, and you teeter there, sobbing.

“ Please, please, I’m-Suna- ”

You gasp sharply, because he’s lifting his chest off your back and straightening you up, pulling your back against him. He clamps his hand down tight over your mouth, turning your head so you’re forced to look up into his eyes.

“ This one’s mine ,” He breathes, his fingers swiping viciously against you as he holds that cursed eye contact. “ No one hears this but me .”

The coil snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head.

Your vision goes white, and your ears ring, the sound deafening as your body jerks, your fingers scratching and digging into his arms for stability. You feel the scream in your throat, but you don’t hear it, can’t hear anything except the low, muffled groan Suna presses into the side of your head. He twitches inside you, and then you’re warm as he comes, filling you in a way that steals the last gasp of breath from your lungs.

He holds you tight until you both come down, arms wrapped around you. The hand on your mouth falls, curling around the side of your head and cradling you against him. The shuddering breaths you let out mix with his, and he sets his mouth on yours, unable to put the effort into kissing you properly.

After a moment, your arms fall limp, dropping away from him, and your head slumps against his shoulder. He slides carefully out of you, holding you steady when you whimper and sway a bit. Then he reaches down, tugging your panties back up your legs and fixing your dress.

You turn in place, forehead pressed to his chest, and straighten him out with your eyes half-closed. He shivers when you wrap your fingers around him and tuck him back into his pants, and his hand cradles your neck, a kiss pressed to the top of your head while you button and zip his jeans.

When you lift your head to look at him, there’s no need to ask him to kiss you. He drops his head without a word, lips just as soft on yours as they’d been the first time.

“How you feel?” He asks, quiet against your mouth.

“Boneless, ” You say right away, and he smiles against you before pulling away.

“ Boneless, or tired ?” He prompts.

You shake your head. You don’t feel tired at all, your nerves still humming under your skin. “Just boneless.”

“Then,” He starts. “Can you find your bones on the way down to my bike?”

There’s a jolt in your body when you realize what he’s saying. That he’s taking you home.

“Yeah, I-” You swallow, meeting his eyes.

He doesn’t look tired, either.

“I think I can manage that,” You whisper, staring up at him.

A grin spreads across his face, wicked and terrifying in the way that only he is.

“I’m ready when you are,” is all he says.

You cling to him as he leads you out of the room and to the elevator, unable to process anything but him. Unable to process the way Hinata whispers ‘ Heartbreaker ’ warmly to you as you pass, or the way the twins give you matching grins of pride when you find them across the room. Definitely not the guy that you’d tried talking to, staring down at you when Suna shoves past him and all but carries you into the elevator.

All you can do is hold tight to him and trust that he’ll get you back to his place.

He kisses the spot under your ear when the elevator reaches the first floor.

“Come on,” He mumbles against your skin as the doors slide open. “I still gotta fuck you stupid.”

Your face burns as he drags you out of Atsumu’s building and to his bike, unable to imagine how what had just happened doesn’t count as fucking you stupid.

What’ve you just gotten yourself into?

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader

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spookyserenades · 8 months ago

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Fifteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 21.3k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

HI HI HI! Thank you all for your patience for this update while I was recovering from my cold! I'm excited to share this chapter, it's jam-packed with emotion, some uncomfortable confrontation, fluff, and of course, some more depraved smut LOL. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you again for everyone wishing me a speedy recovery and your unwavering support. (also pls excuse any typos fdskafdjf) Love from Dana 💜

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“I know you’re mad at me, but you know why I had to break that up, right?” Yoongi watched Y/N though slitted eyes as she poured a rather large glass of white wine for herself, scoffing.

Ignoring him, she took a swig of the chilled wine and turned on her heels, returning to the stove to stir the onion she was in the middle of sauteing. Even she could feel her irritation and anger coming off of herself in vicious waves, perhaps stirring the thyme into her mixture of onion, celery, and carrot with too much aggression.

“Y/N, come on. The silent treatment is really childish,” Yoongi’s deep voice had an edge of grit to it, Y/N snorting humorlessly.

The sounds of the leopard hybrid storming over to her side filled her ringing ears, and when he gently grasped her wrist to pry the wooden spoon from her grip, she spun around to face him, gritting her teeth when he turned off the stove.

“Childish? That’s rich,” Y/N eyed the way Yoongi’s spotted tail was flicking back and forth in agitation, hating having to argue with him at all. “You can’t just prevent me from talking to the others, Yoongi.”

A muscle pulsing in his jaw, Yoongi took a deep breath while pushing his hair out of his face, taking a better hold of Y/N’s hand and squeezing it once.

“I get why that’s how you probably see it, but that’s not what that was,” Yoongi replied evenly, appearing to exercise his unending patience.

“Okay, then explain! You know I’ve been trying to talk to Tae for days! Now he’ll probably never want to open up again,” Y/N had hysteria welling up in her, unable to decide if she was jealous of the way Yoongi always seemed to be so calm and collected.

“Yes, I know, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s jaw tensed again, thumb brushing over her wrist bone. “But not like that. He’s never been that drunk, at least since we’ve known him. I was trying to prevent him from doing something he might regret once sobering up.”

Y/N blinked, reading the sincerity on his face, her shoulders relaxing down a couple of inches.

“You know, the kid’s kind of grown on me in the last few months. I know that he’d be humiliated if things escalated further, that’s why I intervened. Besides, I didn’t want him to put you in a tight spot. I’m aware of how much you care about him,” Yoongi continued, the pinch between his brows loosening up when Y/N seemed to cool off.

“Sorry…” Y/N murmured, suddenly embarrassed that she was so quick to lose her temper on Yoongi.

“Nothing to apologize for. Just don’t clam up on me like that, and we’ll be good,” Yoongi softened, lifting her hand to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it. “Let him sober up, sleep it off. Talk to him in the morning.”

Cheeks burning, she nodded, Yoongi letting go of her and swiping her wine glass, taking a sip with a purr. He took up the task of stirring the base ingredients of the tortellini soup Y/N was making for dinner, Y/N sighing and leaning up to stamp a kiss on his jaw, his still-damp hair tickling the tip of her nose.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have wanted things to escalate like that… thank you, my angel,” Y/N hummed, reaching up to give one of his ears a scratch, his posture stiffening then dissolving into shivers as her fingers stroked through the short fur.

“You’re gonna take advantage of that weakness all the time from now on, aren’t you,” Yoongi’s voice was feathery, Y/N chuckling and mercifully releasing his ear. “Chop up that fennel, we’ll add it to the soup to bulk it up.”

Stealing her wineglass back, Y/N did just that, glad that her and Yoongi didn’t have to have an explosive argument over jealousy. However, as her knife sliced down into the bulb of fennel, her thoughts turned to Taehyung– reeking of booze, cornering her to a wall, unfamiliar flames in his eyes. She knew that the next morning, Taehyung would probably be avoidant and perhaps even embarrassed, and pinning him down to talk to him would be no easy feat. She had no doubt that the Kodiak hybrid wouldn’t be present for dinner, which heightened her concern– all that booze and no food didn’t add up to a hangover-less morning.

“I’ll bring him up some of this later, in a thermos. Don’t worry,” Yoongi once again read her mind, Y/N using the flat of her knife to slide the sliced fennel into the Dutch oven the leopard hybrid was standing over. “He’s definitely passed out, at the moment.”

Nodding, she gave Yoongi a pat on the back, getting to work on prepping some of the other ingredients for dinner. The silence was amicable, comfortable, so the sound of the slider door scraping open had her squeaking in surprise, nearly dropping the loaf of garlic bread she was putting into the oven.

“If you don’t get out of my face, fox, I’m going to take my Zippo to your running sneakers,” Jeongguk’s gruff voice bounced off the walls of the kitchen, brushing snowflakes off of the shoulders of his leather jacket.

“What? I just asked if you had feeling in your antlers,” Hoseok defended himself, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin as he returned from his evening run. “You don’t have to be so accusatory all the time.”

Y/N stifled a laugh, looking over her shoulder to take a better glance at the spectacle, Jeongguk scoffing sharply as he hung his jacket on the coat rack by the door. Apparently, it had begun to snow outside, both his and Hoseok’s hair dusted with powdery clumps of it.

“And you don’t have to be such a nosy, irritating son of a bitch all the time, but sometimes we’re just created a certain way,” Jeongguk replied, Hoseok frowning as he caught a bottle of water Yoongi was tossing his way.

“Forget it, I’ll just Google it later,” Hoseok muttered, collapsing heavily into the breakfast nook, his ears drooping. “Cold as shit outside, by the way. Y/N, you’re sure we can’t move to Florida?”

“What’s with you and Florida, Foxy? Got a secret past there or something?” Yoongi inquired, wiping his hands on a dishtowel after bringing the soup to a simmer.

“Not particularly. It’s just warm and pretty there all the time. Didn’t you mention February can be even colder than January up here, Y/N?” Hoseok expertly dodged Yoongi’s line of questioning, redirecting his attention to Y/N.

“Sometimes. Judging by all the snow we’ve been getting lately, it’s looking that way,” Y/N admitted, still put off by the idea of living through Floridian summers. “I guess I’ll have to look into booking a trip to Disney a bit more seriously.”

“Ugh,” Jeongguk was disgusted, usually the one to turn his nose up at a Disney movie Seokjin or Hoseok would put on during movie night. “At least they sling excessive booze there, so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, we can drink around the world in EPCOT,” Y/N put a finger to her lips, trying to calculate how much park tickets, souvenirs, a villa, and transport would run her– she shuddered at the figure she came up with roughly. To boot, the three hybrids in the room stared at her blankly, like she started spontaneously speaking French. “It’s a park in the resort. You know what, I’ll tell you all about it if I can scrape up the funds for a trip in the fall or whatever.”

The slider was pulled open again, this time bringing Jimin and Namjoon in from the cold, Jimin with only sock-clad feet, his muddied boots stowed beneath a covered section of the patio to prevent tracking mess into the house. Namjoon had a stack of thick books tucked under one of his arms, his denim-sherpa jacket damp with snow, nodding once at Y/N before heading off in the direction of his bedroom, likely to deposit the materials. Ever since she gave the wolf hybrid the information about their upcoming consultation, he had been burning the midnight oil tearing through all of the books he had in order to prepare himself.

“Hey, Jimin, how are the babies?” Y/N inquired about the animals, tuning out Jeongguk and Hoseok still bickering about his antlers, and whether or not they had feeling in them– secretly, Y/N was curious, too. “Oh shit– are you bleeding?”

Y/N dropped the knife she was using to shave parmesan slices for the soup with alarm, eyes bugging out of her head noticing the blood on his wrist. She flew over to him at lightning speed, hands outstretched to examine the damage. Jimin exhaled slowly, handing over his forearm, Y/N’s face settling into a deep frown.

“I’m alright, now, Y/N. It was just Bandit up to his old tricks when I went to give the chickens their supper,” Jimin’s voice had amusement coloring it, a half-smile on his face when Y/N dragged him to the island to dab a paper towel over the minor wound.

“That cocksucking rooster. We should just sell it,” Hoseok squawked from his spot on the breakfast bar, looking up from the noisy Tik Tok he was playing aloud. “I think it’s evil.”

Jimin rolled his eyes at the comment, one of his sandy ears twitching, before he placed his hand over Y/N’s tenderly.

“It’s just a nip. I’ll go disinfect it and come right back,” Jimin assured her, Y/N’s stubbornness coming to a head.

“Let me help,” Y/N tailed the coyote hybrid, reminded of the time he tended to her injury, and wanting to give a little bit back. “Bandit… appropriately named. Or perhaps Lucifer would have suited him better.”

Jimin snorted, letting Y/N grab a hold of the thick corduroy button-down he had over his tee shirt, dragging her down the hall and into his bedroom. The room, as always, had a sereneness to it. Dark blue colors, neat and tidy, and smelling like calming lavender and the crisp outdoors.

“Okay, sit,” Y/N took control, pushing Jimin onto his bed by his biceps, his tail slightly thumping against his mattress as determination set the shape of her mouth. Making haste for his bathroom, she was easily able to locate his basic first-aid kit, one she had in every en-suite in the house under the sink, dragging it out to the awaiting coyote hybrid.

Sitting beside him, Y/N held out her palm expectantly, Jimin placing his forearm into her grasp with a gentle sigh of resignation. Wincing at the torn skin, Y/N quickly loaded up a cotton square with alcohol, dabbing at the site gingerly. Jimin, to his credit, didn’t wince or flinch away, simply studying her actions with his lip tucked between his teeth.

“Sorry, it probably stings,” Y/N mumbled, reaching for the soothing ointment in the kit blindly, applying it on the bite.

“‘S alright,” Jimin shook his head, his hand curling into a fist before his digits relaxed, Y/N wondering if it was an attempt to get past the pain. “It’ll probably be healed up by the morning.”

Humming, Y/N smoothed a Hello Kitty bandaid over his skin, recalling how quickly hybrids recovered from injury.

“I’m sure something like that happened from time to time when you worked on the ranch,” Y/N mused, reluctant to let go of the coyote hybrid just yet.

“Yeah, perks of the job,” Jimin chuckled, making no move to peel himself away from her as well, Y/N feeling the brush of his tail against her lower back. “Thank you for patching me up. Beats my buddies telling me to rub dirt in it or threatening to kiss it better.”

Blinking at that tidbit of information, Y/N watched Jimin’s eyes go far away, a tiny smile on his full lips. Without thinking, and while he was distracted, Y/N ducked, pressing her puckered lips to the pink bandage. All she heard was a sharp, quiet, gasped intake of breath, Jimin’s strong forearm going limp in her palm as soon as she kissed him.

“A kiss is better than dirt, no?” Y/N straightened back up, finally letting his arm go and pushing that pesky strand of honey hair over his forehead back to join the rest of his slicked-back locks.

Jimin was stunned, effectively pulled out of his reminiscing, his butterscotch eyes wide as he stared down at her. In the distance, she heard Hoseok hollering about dinner being ready, Jimin’s downturned ears twitching, Y/N leaping from her spot and motioning for Jimin to follow. She was halfway through the door when Jimin replied, though she didn’t end up catching what he said.

“Much better.”

The next morning, a Sunday, would have typically been lazy and domestic. Usually, her and her hybrids went about their own business; watching movies, playing board games, and attending to their hobbies. However, that particular Sunday morning, Y/N had left Jimin in charge of making sure no one got into petty arguments, and was carefully ascending the stairs with a plate of hot, greasy breakfast food.

Much like Yoongi had predicted, Taehyung had not joined the rest of them for dinner, which nobody else saw as odd. Taehyung was still rather introverted and not so keen on befriending anyone besides Yoongi, and the others were of course happy to ignore him. The Kodiak hybrid hadn’t hauled himself downstairs for the Sunday morning fry up, and Y/N figured it was as good of a time as any to get their uncomfortable conversation out of the way.

Reaching his bedroom door, Y/N balanced the plate of food on her forearm, a large glass of water in her grip, and used her free hand to knock on his door as quietly as she could. She heard a gruff groan in response, Y/N rolling her eyes and making her way inside the room, shutting the door behind her.

The room was dark, all of the drapes pulled shut a little haphazardly, and Taehyung was slumped on his bed, his arm dangling over the side of the mattress and one of his cheeks squished on a pillow. His wild curly hair was matted and sticking up in several directions, and as Y/N held back a giggle when he moaned again, his eyebrows knit together and his nostrils flared.

“Morning,” Y/N whispered, placing the plate of food on his dresser, putting a lid over the fried eggs, mountain of toast, and breakfast sausages so they wouldn’t get cold. Though she uttered the greeting only above a breath, Taehyung groaned, pretty much planked on his front on top of his quilt. “Oh, honey…”

Fishing around in her pocket, she pulled out a packet of Advil tablets, crouching down in front of him and offering both the medication and the chilled glass of water, one of his carmine eyes cracking open slightly.

After a beat, Y/N watched the hybrid sluggishly turn onto his side, propped up on an elbow, his lips chapped as they parted slightly. Moving at glacial speed, Taehyung refused to meet Y/N’s eyes as he accepted both the pills and the glass, eagerly taking the medication and sucking down half the glass of water.

“Bit too much to drink last night, huh?” Y/N began, planting her ass on the ground and wrapping her arms around her knees. Taehyung’s throat bobbed as he swallowed the Advil capsules, Y/N following the movement with rapt interest. “I brought you some breakfast. It’ll soak up some of that gin. You should take it easy today, Tae, I can bring up my laptop and you can do a little photo editing in bed or something.”

Taehyung sat up more fully, although the movement was clunky and lacked the typical brawn and speed that he usually operated at. Clutching his forehead, one of Taehyung’s sharpened incisors bit down on his lower lip so harshly he drew a bead of blood to the surface of the flesh. Sighing, Y/N got to her knees, reaching up and back for the plate of food, placing it on his bed in front of him. The Kodiak hybrid’s complexion turned a touch green, a large hand slapping across his mouth and nose, and Y/N swore she heard a guttural gag from the back of his throat. She’d been there.

“I know the smell is probably making you nauseous, but you’ll feel better if you eat. I promise,” Y/N encouraged, Taehyung’s round ears pressed flat against his skull, an animalistic grumble vibrating his chest. “I… wanna talk to you, Tae.”

Appearing to catch him off guard as he poked at one of the fried eggs with his fork, Taehyung blinked at her, his expression blank. Y/N suspected, judging by the vacant expression, that he might have blacked out the previous night and couldn’t remember anything that happened; including but not limited to him pushing her against a wall and letting Yoongi spoon-feed him tortellini soup (or so her leopard hybrid had revealed to her over her morning coffee).

“Do you remember anything about last night?”

“No… No, I don’t,” Taehyung set his fork down promptly, unease turning down the corners of his mouth. “Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N shook her head immediately, though she knew that Yoongi– and the others, if they knew, would beg to differ. Unfortunately, the silent denial did nothing to make Taehyung’s alarm go away.

“You definitely drank way over your limit, but you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing I’ve ever done that drunk, anyways,” Y/N picked at the fringe on his rug, mind going to the memory of drunkenly pushing Yoongi against a wall and demanding his phone number. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. I haven’t managed to corner you until now.”

“What did I do?” Taehyung ignored her latter statement, stiffening when Y/N leaned forward, plucking up a piece of toast and raising it to his lips with a cocked eyebrow. If he didn’t get any food into his system, he’d feel like garbage the rest of the day, hybrid healing skills or not.

“You seemed angry with me. I came home, you were listening to some jazz on Youtube in the parlor, and you had finished about half a bottle of gin. With no chasers,” Y/N only began speaking when Taehyung reluctantly took a bite of the toast, chewing robotically and staring at his hands tangled in his lap. “I think you were trying to tell me something, but Yoongi interrupted before you could say anything… and then you ran up here.”

Taehyung was quiet, his dark eyebrows pulled together as Y/N fed him toast, apparently lost in thought. While disheveled and still dressed in his cargo pants and hoodie from yesterday, Taehyung was nothing short of effortlessly handsome, even if Y/N could smell gin on his breath.

“Angry with you?” Taehyung mumbled, tongue flicking out to catch some jam on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright, Tae. Keep eating,” Y/N encouraged, placing the fork back into his hand. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of this anecdote, but people often say that drunk words are sober thoughts. If there’s something on your mind, I want you to be able to talk to me about it. I care about you a lot, and miss having you around all the time. I don’t like… the distance.”

Y/N surprised herself by being so honest, stopping just short of spilling her guts and revealing her feelings for her elusive Kodiak hybrid. As she spoke, Taehyung made it about halfway through an egg before he pushed the plate away on top of his quilt, a frown on his face but the guarded look in his eyes softening exponentially. Looking down at her through his eyelashes, Taehyung heaved a great sigh, head tipping backwards and collapsing on his pillow.

“I’ve been acting immaturely, huh?” Taehyung breathed, his forearm draped over his eyes as he chuckled humorlessly, seemingly talking to himself more than anything else. “There’s no use in avoiding you, anyways. Stubborn and persistent.”

“So, you were purposefully avoiding me. Wanna tell me why? Does it have to do with… Yoongi and I?” Y/N probed, nearly whispering the last question. The corner of Taehyung’s mouth quirked up into a sardonic smirk. “Okay, I’m guessing that’s what it is.”

“I just,” Taehyung peeled his arm off of his face, sitting up and joining Y/N on the floor, pushing curls out of his eyes with annoyance. “Like Jimin. Wish you just told me.”

Y/N swallowed, looking down at her lap, shame filling her. Taehyung returned to his breakfast, munching on another piece of toast, leaning against his bed. She could hear him taking sniffs of the air delicately, probably smelling the emotions coming off of her, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how he sat several inches away, rather than pressed up against her like normal.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N’s voice was scratchy, picking at the rug once more. “You’re right, I should have told you.”

“That night, when I told you about how I ended up here, you said you trusted me. I trust you,” Taehyung admitted, Y/N slouching so low in response, she felt like she was curling in on herself. “I meant what I said, and I know you did too. But I couldn’t understand why you felt like you needed to hide your feelings for Yoongi from me.”

Not wanting to cry in front of the hybrid, pride somehow welling up in her and mingling with her shame, she willed her lip to stop wobbling, peeking at Taehyung out of the corner of her eye. While difficult to hear, Y/N could tell it took a great deal of courage for Taehyung to confess that to her.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up to any of you. I felt like everyone was finally getting comfortable here, and I was worried about disturbing the peace. Of course, I managed to do that anyways,” Y/N stared out of one of Taehyung’s windows, keeping her vision on the horizon so tears wouldn’t spill down her cheeks. “I trust you, of course. It wasn’t about me not trusting you, but trying to protect everyone’s… peace, I suppose. Comfort.”

“You can’t protect us from everything, Y/N,” Taehyung told her softly, Y/N all too aware of that truth. “There are going to be times where shit gets rough or uncomfortable, but we’ve all been through tough situations before. We can handle the truth, even if you think we can’t.”

Y/N was stunned by Taehyung’s sage advice, even if he was scolding her slightly. Nodding, she swallowed thickly, Taehyung reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder heavily. The contact had her spine going rigid, as Taehyung hadn’t so much as glanced at her recently, let alone give her a friendly touch.

“Is he… treating you well?” Taehyung’s low voice was barely audible, even right in her ear. The question made her cheeks burn, heart racing. Whatever she was expecting him to say next, it wasn’t that.

“Um, yes, of course,” Y/N mumbled awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs. “He loves me, too.”

“I know,” Taehyung removed his hand from her shoulder, getting to his feet and beginning to rummage through his dresser. “He’s loved you from the start.”

Gawking at Taehyung, looking at him from head to toe while his back was turned, Y/N was at a loss for words. Taehyung spun on his heels, offering a broad palm to help her up, a change of clothes tucked under his other arm. With a shaky grip, she took it, trying to catch eye contact, but the Kodiak hybrid avoided it.

“Tae…” Y/N began, feeling like the conversation wasn’t quite over, and she refused to let go of his hand even when he tried to pull away. “We–”

“Thank you for breakfast, you were right, it made me feel better. I’m going to shower, though,” Taehyung cut her off, squeezing her hand tightly before releasing it. “I’ll come down after… I’ll quit hiding, so stop worrying about me, please.”

“Oh, Tae–!” Y/N wasn’t fast enough, Taehyung’s hybrid strength and speed apparently returning to him, and he disappeared into his bathroom with a click of a lock, leaving her reeling in his bedroom, her palm tingling from his touch still.

Absently, she collected Taehyung’s half-eaten breakfast, and when she heard the shower turn on, it prompted her to leave the room, wondering if anything was accomplished by that conversation, if he truly would stop avoiding her, and how he knew about Yoongi’s feelings for so long. Humming sadly, she set her destination to the kitchen, thoughts still occupied with the flash of hurt in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing, wolf?” Jeongguk shouted from the booth in the back of the old van, Y/N cringing in the passenger seat beside Namjoon, who had very sharply turned onto a side street. “Judas priest, try not to hit the curb.”

“Be quiet,” Namjoon barked back, pushing the pair of glasses he was wearing up his nose bridge. Y/N had gotten him blue light glasses so he wouldn’t burn his retinas while he was crouched over her laptop researching for hours on end. “You can’t even drive in general, so can it.”

Giggling into her palm, Y/N admired her wolf hybrid while he glanced at the GPS on his phone. His silver hair was parted and swept back neatly, and was wearing Y/N’s favorite sweater he owned, a cream cable-knit scoop neck. She tried her best to not ogle him too much, but the sight of his strong, tanned hands wrapped around the steering wheel and perched on the gear shift had her slightly squirming in her seat.

“Are we almost there?” Jeongguk, in fact, did not shut up, the sound of his thumb flicking a lighter making Namjoon’s bitten ear twitch.

“Excited, sweets?” Y/N tossed over her shoulder, adjusting the hem of her plaid skirt, Jeongguk snorting, though Y/N caught him twirling a pen between his fingers and tapping his foot eagerly. Jeongguk had also gone out of his way to look nice that afternoon, opting for a loose charcoal button-down and normal dress pants rather than his usual casual gothic attire.

“Please,” Jeongguk muttered, his voice muffled by the cigarette pursed between his lips. Y/N felt her mouth water, the elk hybrid’s hair beginning to grow in a way that made him look like a 50’s style greaser, complete with the shiny gel. “The possibility of interacting with paranoid humans all afternoon isn’t exactly enthralling.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N focused back on the road in front of her, not taking Jeongguk seriously at all. Jeongguk talked a big game, and certainly appeared intimidating with his glare, tattoos, and piercings, but deep down he was just as passionate about his interest in the paranormal as Namjoon was.

“You guys will get your first paycheck by the end of the week, isn’t that awesome? I mean, if we can wrap up the investigation and cleansing by then,” Y/N changed the subject, rolling her window down (manually, with a crank) to filter out Jeongguk’s cigarette smoke, Namjoon grumbling about the frigid temperature.

“Are you sure it’s legal for us to get paid?” Jeongguk asked incredulously.

“Uh, good question,” Y/N admitted, watching Namjoon’s hands tense around the steering wheel. “One for Ben.”

“Says we’ll be there in three minutes,” Namjoon pointed to the GPS, Y/N leaning forward in her seat to get a good look at the suburban street they were driving down.

It was just an average looking neighborhood in Newton, about twenty minutes from their own home, the houses sleepy Victorians and sidewalks studded with ancient trees. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, even when Namjoon parked his van outside of a little blue house shrouded by great oak trees.

“Is this it?” Y/N leaned across her armrest to check out the front of the building, squeaking out an apology when Namjoon jerked in his seat from the proximity, her cheek smacking into his chest. “Shit, sorry Joonie.”

“No, it’s the post office. Why else would he park here?” Jeongguk flicked the back of her head, Y/N flinching when one of his icy silver rings made her scalp smart. “Let’s go, we’re late.”

Muttering, Y/N massaged the back of her head, hearing the elk hybrid rummage around behind her for his bag, Namjoon unfastening his seatbelt with an apologetic grimace. Ever since she had scolded the wolf hybrid for speeding, he began going under the speed limits. The man was never really one for gray areas, moving from one extreme to another.

Pulling her coat closer around her body, Y/N jumped out of the old van, clutching her notebook to her chest and expelling a deep breath. While Namjoon locked up, she tucked the dangling wires to his Walkman deeper into his bookbag, snorting softly at the excited twitch to his tail.

Once in front of the door to the home, Y/N rang the doorbell, feeling the delicious heat of her two hybrids behind her like a solid wall. She hadn’t been that excited for an event in a while, even though it involved the unknown and people in trouble– the chance to spend one-on-one time with Namjoon and Jeongguk had her bouncing on her toes while she waited for the door to open.

Moments later, the heavy door creaked open, a thin, short woman appearing in the darkened threshold, a screen storm door separating her from the three lingering on her porch. The woman took in the sight in front of her with darting eyes, which had purplish circles beneath them, her hair a bit unkempt and hands shaking as she placed one of them on the handle to the storm door.

“Are you… Y/N?” The woman asked, her voice small, scratchy, and weary.

“Yes, are you Ms. Sanders? I work for Judy, I’m taking over her home consultations. She sent me all of the information you gave her about the situation in your home,” Y/N hoped that the woman would invite them in soon, the wind was biting and she could sense Jeongguk’s impatience without having to look at him.

“Please, come in,” Ms. Sanders– Erika, Y/N remembered her first name from the packet– pushed the remaining barrier between the outside and the apparently haunted house aside, Y/N promptly stepped into the house once the woman moved. “Also, please excuse the mess. I haven’t had much time to, um, clean up, lately.”

Namjoon shut the door behind him once everyone was inside, Y/N sneaking a peek at him sniffing the air with a thoughtful expression, Jeongguk looking awkward and unconfident, for once. Contrary to what Erika said about the state of her home, things seemed tidy, eerily so, and in the small den that they were led to, nothing seemed out of place, just lonely.

“I’d like to introduce you to my two hybrids, they’re here to help, as well. This is Namjoon, he’s very knowledgeable about all things paranormal, actually, all things in general,” Y/N gestured to her wolf hybrid, who exuded the confidence that Jeongguk seemed to be lacking. “And this is Jeongguk. He’s worked with a paranormal investigative group and has years of experience. Both of them successfully helped me rid my own home of an entity.”

“Y-yes, Judy mentioned that she’d be sending a team here for me,” Erika eyed the two hybrids standing behind Y/N like bodyguards, Y/N comforted by both of their contrasting scents in an unfamiliar place; floral honey and leathery smoke. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get anyone anything to drink?”

Y/N shook her head, the two hybrids following suit, sitting on her either side on the lumpy sofa in the living room. Y/N had to admit, there was a hair-raising, peculiar feel to the energy in the home, one that set her teeth on edge. Definitely different from the way it felt in her own house, Y/N could tell Jeongguk could sense it too, his dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the room.

“So, Ms. Sanders–”

“Please, just Erika is fine,” she sat on the sofa across from Y/N and her two hybrids, her frame sagging tiredly. The woman watched Namjoon methodically place his Walkman onto the coffee table, feeding a blank tape into the device. “Should I get the kids?”

“Actually, we were thinking that getting your explanation of what’s been going on first would be best. That way we can compare each family member’s experience to one another,” Y/N held her hands up, Erika halting her movements to rise from her seat, definitely a little bit jittery.

“Would it be okay to tape the interviews so I can review them later?” Namjoon addressed the young mother suddenly, his fingertip hovering over the record button and ears forward and alert.

“I’d let you film and broadcast on national television if it gave you an edge over whatever has been tormenting my family,” Erika insisted, Namjoon raising a brow but pressing down on the record button anyways, angling the device closer to the woman so the microphone would better pick up her voice. “So, where should I start?”

“How about when you first noticed things were becoming out of the ordinary. Nothing is too insignificant, so speak freely,” Y/N encouraged, Jeongguk leaning backwards on the couch beside her, ankle over knee, his journal opened up to a fresh page.

“Well, we moved here a little over a year ago. From Colorado. I separated from my husband and the kids and I needed somewhere safe to stay, far away… he’s an alcoholic, you see. My family is from Massachusetts, so I wanted to be near my folks god forbid my ex ever tried to come and find us…” Erika’s eyes became glazed over, Y/N trying not to react to her hybrids shifting and coiling in alert when a thump-thump-thump came from a wall behind the young mother, who apparently didn’t notice or was all too used to the sound. “Everything was normal, at first. The first six months here were perfect, idyllic, even.”

“When did that start to change?” Jeongguk spoke up for the first time, the tip of his pen tapping his lower lip. Erika glanced at Jeongguk, pulled from her reverie, and her expression became sharpened as if icy water was dumped over her head.

“It happened gradually. My son, Thomas, is non-verbal, but he started having nightmares eight months ago. He’d come into my room and climb into my bed, shaking. While he’s non-verbal, he’s always been quite independent and brave, so this struck me as odd– especially when the nightmares became a nightly thing. Unfortunately, I don’t know what his nightmares are about, because he’s refused to even write anything down about them, but I know they terrify him. That was the first instance of strange events, and he still has them almost every night.”

Y/N nodded, the sounds of Jeongguk hastily scribbling his notes down on the linen page of his notebook, and the crackling of the Walkman, filling the sad silence of the home. Y/N was reminded of her own nightmares that came with the haunting she experienced; the creature that chased her in her sleep, and the fear that crept down the notches of her spine had Namjoon scooching an inch closer to her subconsciously.

“After that, my Jules… She's always been a sort of flower child. But ever so slowly, that bubbliness has gone away, she’s been more introverted, edgy. I thought maybe it was just because she’s entering her teenage years, but she’s made some new friends at school. Ones that I’m not sure have the best influence on her.”

“How do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if there was some kind of entity Namjoon had learned about that was summoned when one makes shitty friends.

“They’re older than her, and whenever she hangs out with that group of kids, she’s out all hours of the night, ignoring her curfew,” Erika sighed, tearing her eyes from Jeongguk and shaking her head. “I’m not usually like this, I mean, my brother was goth growing up, so I’m more than used to the culture. But these kids are bad news, I know it. They’re less about music, politics, and fashion and more about teenage riot. Property destruction, drinking on the train tracks. Jules was never like that, so her sudden change in personality concerned me.”

“So, your daughter made a couple of friends who turned out to be punks, and her whole personality changed?” Jeongguk confirmed, though his usual condescending tone was absent. In fact, Y/N was very impressed by how much the elk hybrid reined in his attitude.

“I know what that sounds like, like I simply don’t care for her friends. But the more she hangs out with them, the darker her personality becomes,” Erika’s voice went rather quiet, now refusing to look towards Jeongguk at all.

“Sometimes, what ends up happening in a haunting involving children, particularly young teens, their moods are influenced heavily by whatever has attached itself to the teen’s home or even the teen themselves. There’s a chance that your daughter acting out, especially in a way that you disapprove of to provoke a reaction, is not due to her new friends, but instead, it’s something above her control entirely.”

Namjoon’s insight had Y/N blinking in surprise. Instantly, she felt a little sheepish about that shock, as she knew he had been doing extra research for the past several days– not to mention his lifetime of knowledge he was already sitting on– but it was impressive to hear him relay information like that. Y/N recalled how Seokjin had mentioned Namjoon was different in group settings outside of the home, more vocal. Perhaps that’s what her wolf hybrid was like at the book club, take-charge and confident. Y/N thought that Jeongguk would be more like that, but she was equally surprised by the elk hybrid’s quiet observations.

“So, you think the… ghost, or whatever, is what’s causing Jules to behave so differently?” Erika chewed on her lip, the thump-thump-thump sound returning, this time overhead, Y/N trying her best not to react. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeongguk jot something down urgently. “I mean, she won’t even talk to me. I don’t even know if she’d be willing to talk to you.”

With that, Jeongguk sat forward, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling the fabric up over his forearms. Raising an eyebrow at him, Jeongguk’s eyes flickered playfully in her direction, sticking his pen behind his ear.

“Is there any chance Julie’s friends look like me?” Jeongguk drawled, again, without any judgment, miraculously. Erika appeared embarrassed, nodding slightly.

“I–I mean, without antlers, of course b-but I didn’t mean to insinuate–”

“It’s alright, Ms. Sanders,” Jeongguk held up his tattooed hand indifferently, rising to his feet. “Julie might be more willing to open up to someone who shares a similar… aesthetic. The wolf, here, is too granola-crunchy, and Y/N certainly has more questions for you.”

Namjoon growled lightly beside Y/N, staring at the elk hybrid resentfully. To her wolf hybrid’s dismay, she was once again agreeing with Jeongguk.

“You think she’d be…? I mean, if you can get anything from her, please, try. I just want to know if she’s, um, as scared as we are. Her brother and I. If she’s seen things like us,” Erika, too, stood, her movements wobbly and frail. “I can show you to her room, ask if she’s up to meeting you. She knows that I’m having this consultation, anyways.”

“Ms. Sanders, Y/N and I are going to take a quick walk around the property while you and Jeongguk speak with Julie. When you return, I’d like to ask you about specific instances of activity,” Namjoon hooked a large hand around Y/N’s elbow, manhandling her to a stance, pausing the tape recording. Without even glancing his way, Jeongguk caught the Walkman Namjoon sent hurtling towards his head, the two of them having an unspoken plan already, apparently.

The young mother nodded, ushering Jeongguk up the narrow staircase to the second level of the home, Y/N spluttering as Namjoon dragged her outside, his grip strong as always, but tender and steadying. Heart racing, she grit her teeth at the nasty wind chill that greeted them once they were on the lawn, and naturally, Y/N clung as close as she could to Namjoon’s side without him growing uncomfortable.

“Why are we–?” Y/N began, Namjoon leading her to his van, letting go of her elbow once he yanked open the passenger seat, rummaging through his disorganized glovebox. “Joon.”

“Hold on, Y/N,” Namjoon mumbled, barely noticing that she was stuck to his back like a jetpack to shield from the bitter cold, teeth beginning to chatter. “I have an idea.”

Finally, he turned, his burnt honey eyes the only whisper of warmth amongst the gray of the sky, holding an array of objects in his arms; what appeared to be two, long, L-shaped pipes, a spool of red fabric ribbon, and a couple of packets, by the looks of it.

“Whatcha got there?” Y/N snorted, loving how much Namjoon was getting into the whole situation.

“Here,” Namjoon ignored her question, shifting everything but the little packets into one arm, taking one of her wrists, and aggressively shaking the pouches with a concentrated expression.

In the palm of her gloved hand, Namjoon placed a hand warmer in the center of it, promptly manipulating her wrist into the pocket of her coat, and repeating the same process with the other hand. Stunned, she stared at her wolf hybrid and registered the out-of-character action like she was a third party looking on, and Y/N wondered if the pink hue of his human ears blossomed because of the wind or bashfulness.

“Have you ever heard of dowsing rods, or people using them during paranormal investigations?” Namjoon asked after clearing his throat, turning again to lock up his van and break eye contact.

“Um, vaguely. I might have seen them use them on Ghost Adventures,” Y/N managed to choke back, the hand warmers keeping her fingertips toasty in her pockets. “Is that what those poles are?”

“Yeah. I figured we could just take a quick walk around the house with these, and we can mark areas that show any sort of reaction with the ribbon tied around a tree. While I handle the rods, you can try and read the energy beside me,” Namjoon motioned for her to follow him back up the driveway, thoughtfully reading her skeptical reaction. “I know you’ve been working on your energy readings lately, Y/N. You can do it, I believe in you.”

It was Y/N’s turn to be bashful upon hearing those words from her wolf hybrid. Namjoon’s approval was something that was hard-won, so the encouragement and praise had her floating straight up into the clouds. With those words, she thought she could probably scale a mountain if he was by her side.

Without hesitation, she trailed after Namjoon, curiously watching him shift the metal rods in his hands, and when they reached the side of the house where a large window looked into the living room, the wolf hybrid paused. Shivering, Y/N felt unease well up in her gut, the sensation of one thousand ancient eyes on her causing her skin to crawl. There was definitely something there, lingering around that window, perhaps in the brush, and judging by the movements of the rods in Namjoon’s hands and the frown on his face, he was coming to the same conclusion.

Saying nothing, Y/N simply sticking close to Namjoon as they made a slow circle around the yard, she concentrated on opening herself up to the energies of the backyard as much as she could, without risking attachment or harm. Namjoon was right, her practice was paying off, because she was starting to get a better sense of the types of entities that were lingering in the yard alone.

“Okay, get anything?” Namjoon asked, once they had landed back to the side of the building they first began canvassing, using his sharp teeth to tear a strip of red ribbon from the spool he was holding. “This window here seems to be the hotspot, but the house feels like it’s almost shrouded in something…”

“I think we’re dealing with more than one entity here,” Y/N admitted quietly, while Namjoon tied a knot around a little sapling under the window. “I felt a few different energies. Only one, in this particular spot, made me uncomfortable. Like I’m being watched. The others felt more organic, human.”

“And that’s just out here,” Namjoon added, but it sounded like he was talking mostly to himself. “Come on, let’s head back in. Jeongguk is done talking to the girl already.”

Absently, Namjoon reached backwards, one of his hands still adjusting the ribbon on the sapling, his fingers wiggling as he searched for Y/N’s grip. Mouth dropping open, she automatically slid her gloved hand into his, listening to his chest rumble as the residual heat from the hand warmers melted into his chilled skin. Never one to deny Namjoon his rare moments of actively seeking out any sort of affection, Y/N soaked in the moment as best she could.

“You still have that list of questions to ask?” Namjoon held her hand tightly as she walked up the ice-slick concrete steps into the house, so she wouldn’t slip.

“Uh-huh. We’ll probably be able to wrap up the consultation afterwards, schedule the investigation. With the energy I’ve felt so far, I think it’s best we get in here as soon as we can to clear it out.”

Back inside, Namjoon let her go, and the first thing Y/N registered was the teenage girl that was now sitting in the living room, beside Jeongguk, her hands tangled in her lap. Exchanging a sideways glance with Namjoon, she hurried into the room, taking a seat next to Erika and her son, Thomas, who had also chosen to join the consultation. Y/N noticed that the young boy was holding onto a plastic toy robot tightly, like someone was going to take it away from him.

“Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s going to help us,” Erika smoothed a hand down her son’s back, the kid blinking at Y/N in acknowledgement, similar dark circles under his eyes that mirrored his mother’s. Her heart broke, in consequence. “That’s the wolf hybrid I was telling you about, too, honey. Namjoon is his name. Tommy loves wolves.”

Tommy, indeed, was staring at Namjoon with stars in his eyes, squirming in his seat, Erika affording all of them a tender smile for the first time Y/N and her two hybrids had stepped foot into the home. Namjoon, embarrassed, sat on Jeongguk’s free side, offering Tommy a little wave, one of his sharp incisors biting down on his plush lower lip.

“Alright, kiddo, she’s probably got a few questions for you. She’s cool,” Jeongguk set Namjoon’s Walkman back onto the coffee table, Y/N’s eyebrows shooting into her hairline as the elk hybrid used the nickname he usually saved for her on the teenager that only seemed to be at ease because of the burly hybrid beside her.

Getting a good look at Julie, Y/N felt herself take a step backwards in time, the girl looking quite a bit like she did as a teenager; dark eyeliner, graphic band tee, chipped nail polish and holes in the knees of her skinny jeans. Julie regarded Y/N carefully, only after shooting a doubtful look at Jeongguk, then a resentful one at her mother, the girl’s dark eyes narrowing a tad.

“She’s how you described her,” was all Julie said, the corner of her mouth curling up in amusement as Y/N tried not to clench her fists– leave it to Jeongguk to offer up a sarcastic caricature.

“Hey, Julie, nice to meet you,” Y/N ignored Jeongguk’s smug, shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself that he was able to get Julie to be comfortable around them. “I do have a few more questions before we go ahead and plan the investigation. Which, when the three of us do conduct the investigation, you and your family will be safe and sound staying at a nearby hotel.”

“You’re not planning on instigating angry spirits, like those quacks on TV, are you?” Julie crossed her arms across her chest with a scowl, several brightly colored rubber bracelets around her wrists. Namjoon was busying himself with straightening out spare blank tapes on the table– he was always a little bit awkward around children.

“No way. That’s all Hollywood, anyways,” Y/N resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Jeongguk, who was biting down on his fist to prevent laughing, which Y/N found both unprofessional and annoying as a gnat in her ear. “We just want to help get rid of whatever is bothering you. I’m sure Jeongguk told you a little bit about what was hanging around our house a few months ago… we were able to banish it permanently. I, and I’m positive my teammates as well, have no interest in provoking spirits for any kind of viral recognition.”

Y/N tasted the word “teammates” on her tongue like a saccharine hard candy, after all, it was the first time she was using it in reference to the sort of operation she had created with Namjoon and Jeongguk. Neither of them seemed to notice the significance, but both of them sobered with her words, nodding in agreement. Jokes aside, the situation was serious, and helping the family was top priority– thirst for knowledge and experience aside. Julie seemed to relax in response to Y/N’s promise, and without further ado, Y/N waited for Namjoon to start up the tape again, and she launched into her list of questions.

“Has the spirit ever shown itself physically to any of you?”

On the way back home from the Sanders’ residence, Y/N felt her frame sagging into the worn leather seat beside Namjoon, the tense of the house energy dissolving the further Namjoon drove from the address. She was ready for a hot bath and some mindless television, having more than enough of the paranormal for one day. A bit loopy, Y/N focused on the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, the shape of it a cartoon flying saucer.

“So the mother has seen a shadow in the hall at night, usually when she gets off from work. Then we had the kid point at the window, which Y/N mentioned feeling like an entity watches the family from there–”

“Jeongguk, you can take notes silently,” Namjoon sighed, probably sensing how exhausted Y/N was, even over the folk tape he was playing quietly and Y/N’s attempts to stay awake by pinching her thigh periodically.

“Fuck off,” Jeongguk muttered, but lapsed into silence anyways. Y/N stole a look at him over her shoulder, and he was lazily propped up on his side in the booth, a pen cap sticking out of his mouth while he scanned his notes.

Namjoon had cleaned up the van in preparation for their journey to the Sanders’, stacking his books neatly and moving most of them up to the loft where the mattress was, considering it was not being used. He even brought in a few blankets and pillows to make things a little more comfortable, one of the throws currently over her lap. Y/N, as well, added her own touch to the van– upon the wolf hybrid’s insistence– and taped little battery-operated fairy lights around the ceiling of the vehicle. In the short few days the three of them made the van ready for longer trips, Y/N had grown quite fond of spending time in there, and her and Hoseok had coined it the “mystery van”.

“Joonie?” Y/N spoke suddenly, her voice definitely weary but catching the wolf hybrid’s attention nonetheless, his ears perking up cutely even with his eyes still trained on the road.

“Mmm?” Namjoon pushed his glasses up his nose again, turning down the radio.

“How did you get this van?” Y/N dared to ask. She hadn’t done much prying into Namjoon’s past, heeding the advice in her wolf hybrid guidebook to let him present information when he’s ready, but since he had softened up so much, she figured asking wouldn’t do too much harm.

“It was given to me,” Namjoon replied cryptically, though Y/N was pleased enough that he actually answered her to not pout about how little that was revealed. “Shortly before you adopted me. In Wyoming.”

“Did you teach yourself how to drive?” Y/N figured she might as well go along with it if Namjoon was okay with that line of questioning, and didn’t seem peeved she was being curious.

“No, someone taught me,” Namjoon’s lips were twisted up in amusement, casting a brief look in her direction. “Some things can’t be learned from books.”

“Ah, I see,” Y/N didn’t want to push her luck, wiggling further into her seat to get comfortable. She had about one thousand follow-up questions, but she had all the time in the world to get answers from Namjoon.

“I lived alone most of my life, in the woods, abandoned cabins. I never liked to stay in one place, mostly because I avoided running into humans… I came across this van deep in Yellowstone park one night in the spring a few years back, the awning was out, and an old woman was sitting in a lawn chair in front of a campfire. I’m not sure how she managed to spot me, but she did,” Namjoon shocked Y/N by actually launching into a story, her mouth agape and even Jeongguk’s furious notetaking had ceased. “I hadn’t had a real meal in… well, ever. She offered me some dinner. At that point in my life, I didn’t trust humans as far as I could throw them. But I could smell her sincerity.”

Y/N had no idea what to say in response. An innocent question turned into a whole lot of background on her wolf hybrid, and she didn’t know whether to begin recording him or stay statue-still.

“Her name was Joan. Most of the stuff in here is hers, she had quite an interest in UFOs and ‘mythical’ creatures. Over the next few weeks, I’d check in on her… she was quite old, and by herself, and I suppose having access to real food was tempting to me as well. I’d listen to her prattle on about things she’s seen in the woods, I’d share things that I had experienced in the wilderness over the years,” Namjoon continued, turning the windshield wipers on when a flurry of snow began to fall. “After a few weeks, I trusted her enough to take her up on the driving lessons, joining her on her trips to town for provisions. I didn’t live with her, but I’d spend time there every few days.”

“Did you steal an old lady’s camper van?” Jeongguk exclaimed from the backseat, a throaty growl coming from Namjoon in consequence.

“No, you asshole. There were a couple of weeks where I’d go to the van, but she wasn’t there. It was confusing, like she had just vanished, but I wasn’t so attached to her that I was overly concerned. While she was old, she was still a decent hiker. I guessed she had just taken a tent and gone for a little trip,” Namjoon turned off the highway, taking the ramp that would bring them back into their town.

“I was wrong. The last time I went to check on her, the van door was open, but there was someone else inside. Thinking it was an intruder, I took a look inside, but I recognized the younger woman from pictures Joan had, it was her daughter. Her daughter told me that Joan had checked herself into the hospital following up on her heart condition, but it was too late. She died within three days of being in the hospital, heart failure,” Namjoon frowned, ears flattening to his skull. “The daughter said Joan mentioned me. Wanted me to have the van. The daughter had no use for it, anyways… She was just collecting some photos. She said I could have it, gave me the keys, and I never saw her again. It was convenient, so I just started living in here.”

Ears ringing, Y/N couldn’t believe how much she had gotten from Namjoon with just a few questions, and she felt somewhat guilty that she hadn’t tried to get closer to him in that way, blindly following advice from a stupid guidebook. That aside, her heart swelled a few sizes; if Namjoon felt comfortable enough to share all of that with her and Jeongguk, he had really come a long way since his initial adoption.

“I’m sorry about Joan,” was the first thing Y/N could think of as any sort of coherent reply, putting her hand over Namjoon’s that was resting on the gear shift and squeezing. “She must have liked you quite a bit to leave you this van.”

“I suppose,” Namjoon agreed, letting Y/N keep her hand on top of his, navigating his way through the town square. “She probably just preferred someone keeping all of her stuff safe after she died.”

“What made you want to come all the way to New England?” Jeongguk’s voice was suddenly right beside Y/N’s ear, making her flinch and push his shoulder. He was squatting between her and Namjoon, staring out the windshield with boredom, and a piece of gelled hair sticking to his forehead. The elk hybrid ignored Y/N’s pleas to sit down for safety, much to her chagrin.

“History,” Namjoon shrugged, shutting off the GPS once the familiar streets of their suburb were in view. “I wanted to see what a city was like. New York City seemed too big, and Boston is certainly historical. Plus, I had never seen the ocean before.”

“Weren’t you originally from Los Angeles, Jeongguk?” Y/N changed the subject, emotions welling up in her. As time went on, it was clearer and clearer to her that she and her seven hybrids, by some cosmic intervention, were destined to be together, considering they had come from all over the country at the same time.

“Yeah. Shithole,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, using a wrist to smack a fresh pack of cigarettes against. Before she could ask him what he meant, Namjoon pulled into the driveway, the sky turning lavender as the sun disappeared over the bare willow trees. “I’m starving. Want a drink.”

Jeongguk straightened up, snatched his notebook from the booth he left it on, and with a flick of his lighter, was jumping out of the van and into the snow.

“Guess he had enough of us,” Namjoon remarked, unfastening his seatbelt and stretching his arms upwards, his shoulders popping with the movement. Snorting, Y/N shook out her stiff legs, folding the blanket over her lap and gathering her tote bag.

“He’s bratty when he’s hungry,” Y/N smirked, waiting for the wolf hybrid to lock up the van before heading to the house. “Maybe I should order pizza tonight, unless Yoongi made something already.”

Namjoon sniffed the air, shaking his head.

“No, nothing’s cooking. Just the fire in the living room is going,” Namjoon matched his stride with Y/N, his tapes and Walkman tucked under his arm. “Order pizza, I can tell you’re tired. The energy work must have taken a bit out of you.”

Preening under Namjoon’s observation, she stared at the snow-dusted grass, feeling closer to him than ever.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to take a bath before dinner. Put some cleansing herbs and salt in the water just to make sure nothing from the Sanders’ house is clinging to me,” Y/N watched Namjoon unlock the front door with the house key he kept in his pocket, her own hands reaching up to dust snow collecting on his shoulders.

“Good idea,” Namjoon let Y/N into the house first, Y/N sighing at the cozy heat and ambient lighting. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Huh?” Y/N spun on her heel, gawking at the wolf hybrid, who was blushing.

“For including us in these investigations,” Namjoon said simply, a faint dimple appearing on his cheek.

“Oh,” Y/N blinked, pausing in front of Namjoon’s bedroom door. “I don’t think I would, or could do it without you two.”

Namjoon’s ears were a vibrant shade of red by now, and with that final comment, he ducked his head, mumbling something about reviewing the tapes before dinner. She let him disappear into his bedroom, and in a sort of daze, Y/N found her way to her own room, opening up her notes app to find the pizza order document with a grin.

February had finally rolled around, and as Hoseok and Y/N both dreaded, it was colder than January. At the very least, the sun was staying up later and later, to her relief, but there had never been so much snow in recent years. She was up to her ears in shoveling the walkways, scraping ice off of the cars, and making sure there was plenty of salt and gravel on the well-walked areas of her yard. That particular afternoon, the first Tuesday of the month, Alice happened to have a day off from the newspaper, and offered to swing by for a bit to catch up.

“Where is everyone?” Alice accepted a hot chocolate from Y/N, sitting in the breakfast nook, glancing at the noticeably hybrid-free kitchen.

“Taehyung officially got his driver’s license recently, he took himself, Yoongi and Hoseok up to the rec center to sign up for the spring activities. Jimin’s out with the horses, Jeongguk and Namjoon I think are in the van researching some equipment we need to order for the investigation in a couple of weeks,” Y/N slid into the booth beside her friend, blowing the steam from her own hot chocolate. “Seokjin got roped into joining Hoseok. He pretty much got dragged out of here.”

“So what you’re saying is, no one will hear us if we talk shit?” Alice grinned, Y/N already knowing what direction the conversation was going to take before Alice said another word. “Spill. You have a glow, so things must have worked out with Yoongi.”

“Between him and I? Yeah,” Y/N grew a bit shy, even if Alice knew pretty much everything about her already. Except for the fact that she had fallen for all of the hybrids, not just Yoongi, and that fact was something she was ready to share with her best friend once and for all. “Some of the others? Not so much.”

“Oh no. Tell me,” Alice scooched closer to Y/N, her arm slung around her shoulders comfortingly.

“Basically, the rest of them caught Yoongi and I in the kitchen in a… compromising position, and that’s how they found out about us,” Y/N grimaced, Alice gasping.

“No way. You weren’t fucking in here–”

“Christ almighty Jesus! No,” Y/N squawked, blood pooling in her cheeks. “We were just kissing. I’m not that much of an adrenaline junkie!”

“Okay, I was gonna say, Y/N. Way to go,” Alice snorted, taking a merry sip of her hot chocolate. “So I’m guessing a handful of them weren’t stoked about walking in on that.”

“Actually, the ones I thought were going to be weird about it were totally fine,” Y/N chewed her lip thoughtfully, aware that Alice wasn’t too familiar with the nuances of each hybrid’s personality. “Jimin and Taehyung were really disappointed that I felt I couldn’t confide in them. Jimin has forgiven me, but Taehyung still seems a little off, even if he insists he’s cool with it. He asked me recently if Yoongi was ‘treating me well’.”

“Damn. He sounds jealous,” Alice leaned back with a wag of her eyebrows. “What I know about hybrids, especially the types you’ve adopted, they can get hella territorial. Maybe it's his instincts screaming at him to protect you.”

“Could be,” Y/N muttered, her cheeks getting even hotter at the thought. “Then there’s Seokjin. He hasn’t addressed it at all, it’s like he’s pretending it’s not even happening. He used to be the clingiest, but now it’s rare he’ll initiate any kind of physical contact at all.”

“Again, babe. Sounds like jealousy. I remember Seokjin, he stuck to you like a starfish and looked at you like you hung the moon. He’s probably in denial,” Alice frowned, watching Y/N’s expression become stormy. “What’s wrong? You have that look on your face like you’ve left something out.”

“Alice, it’s not just Yoongi I’ve fallen in love with,” Y/N rubbed her temples, deciding to just bite the bullet already. “It’s all of them.”

There was a beat of solemn silence, and Y/N could almost smell the wheels in her best friend’s head turning. Alice tightened her hold around Y/N’s shoulders, the smell of her caramel perfume wrapping her up in a deeper hug.

“I had a feeling,” Alice admitted quietly, squeezing Y/N once again. “That’s why you feel guilty that those three are keeping their distance.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N felt the hot chocolate go sour in her stomach, though she should have known that Alice had caught on by now. Y/N wasn’t exactly subtle with her heart-eyes around the boys, even with others present. “I talked to Ben about it. I know it’s high school for me to say, but I’m so uncomfortable with the idea of confessing to any of them myself. The possibility of rejection is scary, of course, but seeing how much the boat was rocked when they found out about Yoongi and I…”

“I don’t have to tell you this, babe, but this isn’t something you can run from forever. I think all you can do is take it one step at a time… if you were to sit everyone down at once and admit your feelings to the six of them in one breath, I have a suspicion not a lot of them will take that confession seriously,” Alice mused slowly, Y/N already holding the same opinion. The last thing she wanted was to lump every confession into one sort of sit-down conference, for some reason, the potential scenario came off as cheap and rushed, to her.

“I just. I don’t even know who to start with. Maybe one of the boys that aren’t avoiding me like the plague,” Y/N said miserably.

“You know, there’s a chance one of them may come to you,” Alice encouraged, wanting to cheer up her friend. “You never know. Yoongi felt the same, maybe a few of the others have feelings for you, too.”

Perking up a little bit, Y/N let herself believe that for a few moments, imagining how nice it would be to be past all of the drama and confrontation, and simply living in love and harmony with all of her boys– like a storybook. Unfortunately, Y/N existed in reality and not between the pages of a children’s book, and she shook away the vision dancing around in her head quickly.

“I suppose we’ll see… Yoongi and I are still navigating how we act around the others, anyways. It’s a little tricky,” Y/N changed the subject slightly, knowing that Alice would be interested in some of the spicier things that had been going on in her life, rather than the tangled and complicated.

“I’m sure. If my man was half as sexy as your Yoongi, you’d need a crowbar to pry me off of him at any given moment,” Alice deadpanned, Y/N choking on a sip of her drink, Alice’s throaty laugh filling the empty kitchen. “How does that work, by the way? I mean, with hybrid hearing… have you guys even…?”

“Uh… yeah, we have,” Y/N shrunk down in her seat, embarrassed. “The music room is soundproof.”

“Y/N, you naughty girl! Wait, so like. Is that going to become like the Red Room like in 50 Shades? Like, you’re only going to fuck in there?” Alice, true to herself, brought some humor into the situation, Y/N giggling despite herself.

“I mean, no, I don’t think so,” Y/N managed through laughter, relieved to have some time with her friend and talk about such things. “As hot as it was… I mean we’re probably going to end up sleeping together in a bed at some point. I think it’s futile to pretend we’re not going to be intimate, the others aren’t stupid. I suppose I’ll just have to keep my sound level in check.”

“Okay, so clearly he doesn’t suck in bed, if that’s your response,” Alice teased, poking Y/N in the cheek. “Lucky lady. You do deserve it though, after all those years of The Great Dry Spell.”

“He’s perfect,” was all Y/N responded with, trying not to let her eyes glaze over with the memories of their tryst in the music room. “God. I’m sweating. Let’s talk about something else before I start chewing on the table.”

“I have an idea,” Alice straightened up after several moments of the girls laughing at Y/N’s fluster, taking up one of Y/N’s hands with mischief in her eyes. “Before you shoot it down, think about A) how fun it would be, and B), the potential amazing rewards.”

Making a motion for her to spit it out, Y/N braced herself for something ridiculous.

“You’d do this in small doses, of course– the fact that some of them seem to be jealous is evident. Why not tease them a little? Give Yoongi a kiss here and there in front of them, bat your eyelashes… I’m not saying be a menace with the PDA, but I think well timed PDA might coax one of them into slipping. I know you, if you had more of an idea that one of them had romantic feelings for you, you’d feel better about confessing. Just a thought.”

Y/N mulled that over while draining the rest of her mug, furrowing her eyebrows. That was the exact kind of scheme her, Alice, and Laura would pull when they were teenagers with their high school crushes, and usually, it worked like a charm. Now, however, Y/N felt a little funny about it.

“I don’t know… wouldn’t that be manipulative? Wouldn’t I be using Yoongi?”

“Y/N. Do you seriously think your leopard male hybrid who is in love with you would be upset that you kiss him in front of others? Hello? They’re all about possession. You’re not manipulating, either. Just think of it as a gentle kick in the ass for the others to sort out how they feel,” Alice rolled her eyes, Y/N regretfully realizing her friend was right.

“I’ll think about it. If it blows up in my face, though–”

“If it blows up in your face, I’ll take responsibility. It won’t though,” Alice collected the empty mugs, standing from the breakfast nook. “Alright, babe. We need to catch up on some Below Deck, and I want some dirty details about your man.”

Snorting, Y/N nodded, ready to have a couple of hours to gossip and watch trash reality with a girlfriend. She felt lighter, truly, that she told Alice how she felt about all of the hybrids, and was grateful that Alice not only offered her advice from a different point of view, but made her smile, too. As Alice dragged her to the parlor, Y/N wondered who she was in her past life to not only deserve her boys, but her friends, as well.

“Come on, Y/N, try it!” Hoseok attempted to grab Y/N by the ankle, his russet tail wagging happily as he teasingly pressed the ‘on’ button to his Hypervolt. “You’re being a wuss.”

“Hoseok. I have tried it. Last time you pressed that against the back of my neck without me knowing, I thought I was having a stroke,” Y/N was able to wrestle her ankle free from her fox hybrid’s grip, her ass sore from sitting on the rough surface of the rec center’s indoor track. “I’m not the one about to run a mile. Focus on your own calves.”

“Oh, please, just a couple of seconds,” Hoseok was too quick for her to evade his grabby hands for long, his strong, nimble hands clasping around her ankle again with a cheeky grin.

“Ho-seok,” Y/N groaned as soon as the vibrating tool dug into the meat of her calf, and regretfully, she was eating her words– after a few days of being on her feet at work, the sensation was delicious. “F-focus, honey. It’s the first meet of the season.”

“Yeah, so? You’re the only one who came. Even Jinnie abandoned me, reading his stupid books,” Hoseok ignored her plea to focus on his warm-up stretches, moving the Hypervolt further up her calf, Y/N praying she wouldn’t melt into a puddle of moans and groans at the sensation.

“They’re r-reading a Murakami book this w-week. Hoseok, stop!” Y/N weakly pushed his hands away, pouting at him. “It’s like almost 1,000 pages. He wasn’t doing it to spite you.”

“He could have read it here!” Hoseok countered, though obediently put his Hypervolt back into his gym bag and began to stretch out his quads in front of her. “Whatever. I’m only doing one event tonight, we'll be outta here in like an hour or so.”

“What do you want for dinner? We’ll pick up something on the way home,” Y/N pulled Hoseok’s number from his gym bag, shifting forward on her knees so she could pin it to his jersey tank.

“Chinese. I want a bucket of fried rice,” Hoseok replied without hesitation, Y/N making sure his mahogany waves were suitably held back by the sweatband around his forehead.

“That can be arranged,” Y/N agreed, squeaking in surprise when one of the announcers reminded the mile runners that they had ten minutes before they had to be at the starting line, Hoseok perking up. “Couple of questions for you?”

“Darling?” Hoseok cocked his head, nose twitching in her direction.

“Your birthday is this month. What would you like to do, my social butterfly? Wanna throw a party, or go somewhere specific? A club, a bar?”

Any trace of sly humor disappeared from Hoseok’s face in a flash, astonishment replacing it, before he ever-so-elegantly recovered, a neutral expression taking over.

“That’s a lot to think about. It’s still a little ways away, can I think about it?” Hoseok responded carefully, his hands coming up to rub his lean biceps.

“Think about it as long as you need. Unless you actually want to go to a club, I’ll have to book that ASAP,” Y/N leaned back on her palms, praying that his event would go by quickly so her ass wouldn’t be scraped up any further by sitting on the rough concrete. “Gift ideas, too. You like clothes, but you have a bunch of those already… we could go to a sports game? Or we could go to a music festival, I know you’ve been interested in that. There’s one next month here in Boston, I heard The Foo Fighters are headlining one of the days.”

“Y/N, that’s a lot to give a guy to think about before he has to perform athletically,” Hoseok whined, but Y/N could see embarrassment plain as day in his mocha eyes. “I’ll let you know, alright? Whatever you do for my birthday will be more than enough, though, without a doubt.”

Mouth open to reply, Y/N was cut off by a whistle blowing, Hoseok nimbly hopping to his feet, his cheeky, gorgeous grin back in place. He looked like a young god in his uniform, full of life and vigor, one that governed over the sun and daylight. Before she could speak, Hoseok used his hybrid swiftness to bend forward, pressing a light kiss to Y/N’s forehead at lightning speed.

“Wish me luck, my darling! Order some egg rolls for Jinnie while you’re at it, too, alright?” Hoseok winked, whistled his trademark, and jogged off towards the starting line, leaving Y/N wooden and staring after him.

Of course, Hoseok ended up winning– he had a streak, at that point, and was considered the star of the team, especially for his particular event. It was a shame, truly, that the rest of her hybrids didn’t want to be there to support the fox hybrid– but Y/N supposed with the near-weekly meets, it interfered with their own interests and hobbies. Besides, Y/N never missed a track meet, a basketball game, or a photography expo. Hell, if there were oral reports during her mother’s book club, she’d be there an hour in advance to hear whatever Seokjin and Namjoon had to say about a book she had never read.

The next day, Wednesday, Y/N was beat from work, after Judy had her totally rearrange the store’s inventory for the spring. There was enough leftover Chinese food for her and the hybrids to pick at for dinner over a marathon of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and by the time she dragged herself to bed, her eyes were nearly crossed. The only thing that prevented her from drooling into her pillow immediately was the sound of her phone chiming on her nightstand, Y/N grumbling and blindly reaching for it, tapping on the text notification.

Yoongi 👼🏻: can’t sleep : (

Y/N: sorry, angel 😭 something wrong? Need some tea?

Yoongi 👼🏻: no, just u

Yoongi 👼🏻: come up, stay with me?

Suddenly wide awake, Y/N sat up in bed like she was electrocuted, her heart hammering in her chest. Bunching her quilt up in her fists, she was torn– there was nothing she wanted more than to sleep with Yoongi, but she dreaded the thought of sneaking out of his room in the morning and stumbling into Seokjin, Taehyung, or Jeongguk on the second floor.

“Fuck it. We’re going with Alice’s plan,” Y/N muttered to herself, and as if on autopilot, she made her way to the second floor miraculously without turning on any lights.

Yoongi’s door was ajar, and it appeared that he was the only one still awake, lamplight only coming from his room, fortunately. Promptly, she slipped inside, chest rumbling in satisfaction when Yoongi’s scent filled her senses powerfully.

“That was fast for a little human,” Yoongi emerged from his bathroom, Y/N trying not to drool out of the side of her mouth with his bare chest on display. His sweats were slung low on his narrow hips, spotted tail curled around one of his legs, and Y/N suddenly felt exposed in her own tank-and-shorts pajama set.

“Do you want me to stay or not,” Y/N hissed, hands on her hips. Yoongi rolled his eyes, tongue poking into his cheek. The leopard hybrid shuffled over to his bed, dramatically collapsing onto it, his arms behind his head with a smirk. “Are you trying to smize your way out of a smartass remark?”

Y/N swallowed, her throat completely parched, dragging her eyes over his strong arms; the veins mapping his forearms, the pink tint to his bent elbows, the dark hair of his armpits. Briefly, Y/N internally cursed Yoongi for making her so whipped for him, she was attracted to armpits.

“Is it working? Smells like it is,” Yoongi lifted a brow, tongue swiping over his lower lip and a free hand reaching up to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. “Come here.”

“Yoongi. We’re just sleeping. You have a game tomorrow,” Y/N warned, though she lowered her knees to his mattress, crawling up the length of if so she could lay beside him. “Don’t seduce me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Yoongi accused, his eyes darkening as he watched her climb to his side. “Miss you.”

Y/N hummed, rolling onto her side, sticking her face into Yoongi’s neck, breathing in his cologne. Automatically, Yoongi began to purr, using one of his hands to grasp onto Y/N’s thigh, hooking it over his body. Her skin tingled where he touched her, especially when he began to trace shapes over her thigh, just below the hem of her shorts.

“Miss you too,” Y/N mumbled into his neck, planting a gentle kiss on the tender skin, Yoongi shivering beneath her. Already, her eyes felt heavy, tangled up with her lover, his soothing purrs like a sweet lullaby. “Turn off the light. Early morning.”

Grunting, Yoongi yanked on the chain to his lamp, plunging the room into darkness, Y/N sighing happily when he pulled his quilt up over the two of them. Y/N rested her palm over Yoongi’s heart, the steady beats of it beneath her touch comforting.

“Love you, baby,” Y/N whispered into the darkness, Yoongi’s tail wrapping around her waist, and she could tell he was already slipping into unconsciousness by the way he murmured the same sentiment back, slurred and heavy.

The next morning, Y/N pretty much had to push Yoongi off of her, his body on top of hers, cheek squished against her chest, his twitching ears tickling under her chin. He groaned and complained when she rubbed his back to wake him, and Y/N fought the urge to simply fall back asleep with him on top of her.

“Come on, you big kitty, gotta have some breakfast before the game,” Y/N wheezed as she managed to roll him onto his side, his long hair sticking up in the back. His eyes were still shut as he stumbled out of bed, making Y/N snort into her palm. Usually, Yoongi was one of the first hybrids up in the morning, but Y/N had never seen him before his first cup of coffee. “I’ll make something for you while you get ready.”

Yoongi frowned, not wanting to part with her yet, but she left his room with a grin as he shrugged on his jersey with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. No one else appeared to be up yet, all of the bedroom doors on the second floor still shut, so Y/N was able to tip-toe down the creaky staircase without a confrontation.

After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Y/N was writing a brief note to tell the others where her and Yoongi were that morning, they were off to the rec center, Y/N letting Yoongi drive there. The weather was cold and damp, but at least there wasn’t any snow coming down from the sky on their drive in, but Y/N barely felt the chill with Yoongi’s hand on her knee while he drove.

It wasn’t her first time in the rec center’s indoor gym, the floors buffed to a blinding shine and wooden bleachers surrounding the court, but because it was a new season, she felt like it was a different place. Once Y/N tied up Yoongi’s hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he was off to warm up with his teammates, and Y/N found a spot on the bleachers to watch the game. One eye on her leopard hybrid, she fumbled for her phone, which was buzzing away in her pocket. It was a notification of a reminder– in three days time, Valentine’s day, was the cooking class with Seokjin. Smiling a bit wistfully, she screenshotted the reminder, sending it to Seokjin over text.

Y/N: excited for our class!!

Seokjinnie 🌸: me too ≽^•⩊•^≼

Y/N: cute emoji omg! Is that supposed to be u?

Seokjinnie 🌸: ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡

Y/N flinched when Yoongi’s coach blew her whistle aggressively, promptly setting down her phone and getting ready to watch Yoongi play. He dropped into total concentration, listening to his coach with his lip tucked between his teeth, before getting into position and watching the coaches to a coin flip. She was getting lost in checking him out when she was rudely interrupted by someone saying his name– several feet from beside her.

“Number 54? Yeah, his name is Yoongi,” a high-pitched, girlish voice declared to her friend, and Y/N knew that she was gawking at them, but she wanted to know how she knew her leopard hybrid’s name. “Isn’t he hot?”

Y/N grit her teeth, realizing the two girls were actually hybrids, dressed in tennis skirts and both with canine sets of ears. Y/N recognized the uniforms they were wearing, belonging to the rec center’s tennis team, which means it was likely that they had seen Yoongi around before. Instantly, jealousy bloomed in her gut, and she had to tear her eyes from the two of them, fidgeting in her seat. She was pretty sure neither of the girls had noticed her staring at them, but she didn’t want to get caught, so she chose to discreetly eavesdrop instead.

“He’s super hot. Like a rockstar or something,” the second girl, the one with darker hair, agreed. “I heard he’s like the best player on the team.”

“For sure, that’s what Trixie said. She used to watch the basketball team practices last season just to see him play.”

Now, Y/N was absolutely positive she was filling the gym with the acrid scent of jealousy, but if the girls noticed, neither of them even looked in her direction. Y/N wasn’t stupid or blind, she knew how gorgeous and talented Yoongi was, but it was never fun to hear others fawn over one’s boyfriend. Gripping the bleachers tightly, Y/N tuned the hybrid girls out, focusing on Yoongi, who had already stolen possession of the ball.

Luckily, the game became a nail-biter, enough to distract her from the girls beside her. Y/N’s throat was hoarse from hollering Yoongi’s name, and she managed to get a pretty decent video of him scoring– by the end of the game, Y/N could barely speak, but Yoongi’s team had won. Before she could launch herself onto the court to give him a hug, he was pulled away by his teammates, who were thumping him on his back and pushing him towards the locker room. This made Y/N pout, but she knew that Yoongi would want to take a shower before they hit the road, so she busied herself on the phone, ignoring the giggles of the two hybrids beside her.

Hoseok 🦊: heads up, darling

Hoseok 🦊: we’re all heading out, taking the car. Errands to run!

Y/N: errands???

Hoseok 🦊: ye, ghostbusters need some equipment. Jinnie wanted to make something for dinner so gotta go to the store. The bear needs to pick up his photos while we’re there, and we’re dragging Jimin along so he can spend time with beings that AREN’T horses

Y/N: okay, thanks for letting me know foxy

Y/N: have fun, be safe, and think about plans for your birthday, pls!

Hoseok 🦊: i’ll make a list :3

“Ready to go?” Yoongi approached her, his hair damp and his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his footsteps echoing in the near-empty room. When he was in front of her, a smirk on his face, the two girl hybrids stopped whispering, and Y/N knew that they were checking him out, and she didn’t like that one bit.

Pocketing her phone, she recalled her earlier jealousy, and apparently catching him off-guard, Y/N launched forward, jumping up into his arms with an oof coming from the back of his throat. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Y/N held him tightly, hiding her face in his neck.

“Whoa, I didn’t win the NBA finals,” Yoongi chuckled, using one arm around her lower back to keep her supported, his chest vibrating with purrs. “Sweetheart–”

She cut him off, cupping his face urgently, descending her lips on his in a powerful kiss. He made a feline noise of surprise, his mouth parting, and Y/N took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, trying to inject every ounce of passion she had into it. After a split second, Yoongi recovered, kissing her back, his arm tightening its hold on her. Not wanting to draw it out too much, her jealousy melting into sheepishness, she broke away with one last peck to his lower lip, Yoongi’s eyes full of surprise and delight.

“What was that for?” Yoongi asked, breathlessly, Y/N giggling like a schoolgirl as he lowered her back to the ground.

“What? I can’t kiss my man?” Y/N replied, parroting his sarcastic remark he had once made in front of Taehyung. Yoongi blinked, stunned out of a response, Y/N tucking a lock of hair behind his ear before tangling one of her hands with his. “Let’s go home, angel.”

Y/N didn’t even look at the two girls that were gaping at the pair of them, but she knew that they were so caught off guard, they forgot to “congratulate number 54 when he comes out of the locker room”. Smugly, she left the gym with Yoongi on her arm, and she realized once they got to the car: Yoongi didn’t even notice those two girls, his attention had been on her completely.

“Where’s the other car?” Yoongi frowned, pulling into the driveway carefully, never once letting go of Y/N’s hand.

“Hoseok took it out with everyone to run some errands. On the bright side, I don’t think either of us will have to cook dinner, Seokjin wants to make something tonight,” Y/N hopped out of the car, suddenly struck by the fact that the two of them were alone, which had her pulse speeding up.

“Ah. Giving us space,” Yoongi read her mind, chuckling. She stuck her tongue out at him while his back was turned, dragging his gym bag out of the backseat, and ditched him in the driveway to unlock the front door.

Y/N headed straight for the kitchen for a glass of water, lamenting the fact that it was still too early for a glass of wine. Bouncing around in her skull were not only images of Yoongi jogging up and down the court, commanding the respect and admiration of his teammates, but the sounds of the two hybrid girls gushing over him. Embarrassingly, Y/N felt her jealousy return, hardly noticing Yoongi in the foyer as she stomped up the stairs, scooping up his gym bag as she went. She thought perhaps doing something as mundane and mind-numbing as a load of laundry would help her get a grip.

Grumbling, she tossed Yoongi’s sweaty uniform into the wash along with Hoseok’s, adding a few more articles of the boy’s clothes from the mountain of dirty laundry in the corner of the little room. Eyes glazed over as she tossed laundry beads into the machine, she stared at the little chart taped to the wall, the one that she and Seokjin had created so laundry duty was tackled by a different housemate every day.

“What’s the matter?” Yoongi startled her in the doorway to the laundry room, making her whack a knee against the dryer with a cry.

“Nothing,” Y/N composed an innocent expression on her face, folding a pair of Jimin’s jeans and stacking them on the shelf.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice had a warning tone to it, Y/N cursing the hybrid ability to sniff out deceit. “You were fine just a second ago.”

“Why don’t you just take a whiff and guess,” Y/N grouched, Yoongi’s hazel eyes flashing. Without another word, Yoongi was pulling Y/N out of the laundry room with a tsk and a finger hooked in the pocket of her leggings.

“Fine,” Yoongi growled, pushing her against the wall in the hallway, pressing a knee between her legs and keeping her pinned with a hand flat on her hip. His face was in the crook of her neck, Y/N growing stiff as she felt his eyelashes brush her skin. “Ticked off. Insecure.”

Heart falling to her ass, Y/N squirmed against the wall, trying to get away from the leopard hybrid, humiliated beyond belief. Served her right for challenging a predatory male hybrid, in hindsight.

“Oh. Jealous,” Yoongi froze, drawing away from her throat, staring Y/N dead in the eye. “Why are you jealous, baby?”

Swallowing, Y/N shook her head, desperate to deny the accusation, but it was too late. She couldn’t weasel her way out of that situation, not with him pinning her down. Heart pounding in her chest, she shook her head.

“It’s nothing, Yoongi. Just forget it, I’m being stupid,” Y/N attempted to diffuse the situation, furious with herself that she had potentially spoiled the rare alone time that the two of them had.

“Is this about those girls sitting next to you at the game?” Yoongi asked incredulously, Y/N’s eyes widening a fraction. “Uh-huh. That’s a yes.”

“It’s dumb, but I can’t help it,” Y/N broke down with a whine, already feeling pitiful enough. “They were talking about how hot you are and how you’re the best player… ugh, it just triggered me I guess, you’re mine and I–”

Her words were stuffed back down her throat, because Yoongi’s mouth was on hers, hot and desperate, the force of the kiss causing her head to bump into the wall behind her. The hand that was on her hip moved, a forefinger and thumb pinching her chin to keep her in place, Yoongi already licking into her mouth with borderline abandon. Wide eyes slipping shut, Y/N released a ragged moan, her hands scrabbling to get a grip on his hoodie. Cocking his head, Yoongi bit down harshly on her lower lip, pressing his hips into Y/N’s before breaking away, his chest heaving.

“How could you think,” Yoongi began, interrupting himself by giving her another swift kiss, his eyes lidded. “That I’d even look at anyone but you?”

Y/N couldn’t respond; she was too distracted by Yoongi’s hand under her shirt, tracking a path up her abdomen, and his plush lips suckling the skin under her jaw. Gasping, she let go of his hoodie, hands pressing to the wall behind her, heat flooding through her system.

“If anyone should be jealous, it’s the other poor fucks who live with us,” Yoongi added roughly, bending to get a hold of her thighs, hoisting Y/N up into his arms, using his sharp incisors to nip at her collarbone. “They haven’t heard the noises you can make, haven’t tasted you…”

Y/N felt her head spinning as Yoongi carried her down the hallway, fisting a chunk of his long, inky hair tightly, the sound of Yoongi kicking his bedroom door open making her go limp in his arms.

Y/N yelped when Yoongi let her go, all but tossing her onto his bed, standing before her like a predator stalking its prey. In a wild turn of events, they both became possessed by lust, Y/N already feeling her core throb against the material of her underwear. Yoongi had a filthy mouth, she was already aware of that, but when he used it against her– she swore nothing was sexier.

“Don’t you know how I feel about you?” Yoongi rid himself of his hoodie, tossing it carelessly to the floor, swinging a knee over the mattress to cage Y/N beneath him. Y/N could only stare up at her beautiful leopard hybrid, his ears twitching with agitation, his silver chain dangling in front of her face. “Hmm? Love?”

“Y-yoongi,” Y/N breathed, overwhelmed. She reached up for him, hooking her hands around his neck, reveling in the quiet groan he made when she brought him down for a kiss, this one sweeter, more full of meaning, than the desperate lip-lock in the hallway.

“There’s my girl,” Yoongi murmured between kisses, probably smelling the love and affection she had for him rolling off of her in waves. Seizing the moment while he was lax above her, Y/N’s hands shot out, landing on his chest, sending the leopard hybrid sideways and onto his back, Y/N straddling his lap with a doped-up grin. “Fuck.”

Snickering, Y/N squirmed on his lap, watching his eyes roll back into his skull, his hands still on her outer thighs. Y/N couldn’t believe that she was as turned on as she was, trailing her fingertips over the smooth skin of Yoongi’s flushed chest, and further, she felt satisfaction fill her with the hardness she felt beneath her hips. Yoongi’s breath caught as one of her thumbs brushed over a nipple, his pupils dilating with pure want. Unable to help herself, she ducked down, mouthing at his chest, and experimentally, she grazed her lips over his nipple, Yoongi’s hips bucking up into hers with the action.

“Baby,” Yoongi’s voice came out strained, his hands squeezing her thighs painfully, one of them moving to tug on the back of her shirt, Y/N busy kissing a trail down his sternum.

“Yoongi,” Y/N returned, tracing the lines of his toned obliques, teeth scraping against his left pec.

Getting the hint once Yoongi yanked at her shirt once more, his other hand bruising the skin of her thigh, Y/N sat up, crossing her arms and pulling the material off of her torso, tossing it aside. She wasn’t exactly expecting to be in that position with Yoongi that afternoon, so regretfully, she was wearing a simple black bra, but Yoongi appreciated it with widened eyes nonetheless.

“Kiss me,” Yoongi requested, breathlessly, his hands trailing from her thighs to her bare waist, eyes nearly emerald with how much they had darkened. Not daring to disobey, Y/N fell forward, whimpering at the sensation of their torsos pressed together, cupping his jaw and giving him the kiss he asked for.

Not knowing where Yoongi ended and she began, she felt their legs tangling, Yoongi’s rough, jean-clad hips scraping against the soft material of her leggings, which were truthfully starting to become a little damp. Yoongi kissed the breath from her lungs, his tongue sensually rolling against hers, his purring chest pressed right up against hers.

“God, I–” Yoongi ground out, his form tensing beneath her when Y/N traced her tongue up the side of his neck, the taste of his sweat sweet on her tongue. “Fuck. Fuckin’ love you.”

“Love you more,” Y/N countered, directly in his ear, nipping at the shell of it, shuddering when his hands slid up her back, fingertips wiggling beneath the strap of her bra. With that statement, Yoongi grunted sharply, and before Y/N’s brain could process it, the world turned upside-down, the wind knocked from her lungs as she found herself underneath Yoongi again.

“None of that,” Yoongi smirked at her bewilderment, using a large hand to press over her mouth, his free hand ghosting over the center of her chest. A primal sort of glint took over his feline eyes, Y/N automatically opening her mouth to respond. Unfortunately, Yoongi was a step ahead of her. “Uh-uh.”

Y/N’s lips were pried open, two of Yoongi’s long, slender fingers pressing against her tongue. Two could play at that game, Y/N thought, her tongue swirling around the digits, hollowing out her cheeks. Frowning, Yoongi watched her expression grow coy, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“Smart mouth, should keep it filled,” Yoongi muttered acidically, pressing the pads of his fingertips more harshly into Y/N’s tongue, a tiny gagging sound coming from the back of her throat, making the tips of her ears burn. “Let’s get this off, huh, sweetheart?”

Unable to respond with his fingers stuffed in her mouth, Y/N watched helplessly as Yoongi slid a hand behind her back, unclasping her bra and pulling it off with a dark chuckle. One day, Y/N would learn not to provoke a hybrid, but honestly, the consequences didn’t seem to be so bad.

Finally pulling his saliva-slickened fingers from her mouth, Yoongi helped Y/N out of her bra, absently pushing the garment to the side so he could get a good look at her chest, a hand resting over her throat, feeling her pulse flutter erratically. Desperately, she was trying to pull him back down to her mouth with tugs to his belt loops, but Yoongi ignored her silent plea, both hands cupping her chest. Y/N arched into his touch with a soft cry, bringing his face down to kiss between her breasts, and in retaliation for earlier, used the rough pads of his thumbs to outline circles over her nipples.

“Hnngh,” Y/N winced, so sensitive his gentle touch was almost painful, Yoongi humming as he toyed with her chest, kneading the soft flesh in his hands, pinching one of her buds between his fingertips and pulling, rewarded by a heavy moan from Y/N. “Oh, b-babyy–”

Growing frustrated with the remaining barriers between himself and Y/N, Yoongi’s touch migrated to the waistband of Y/N’s leggings, using his strength to strip the article of clothing from her body, nearly passing out once he realized she wasn’t wearing panties beneath, her entire body bare beneath him.

“What are you doing to me,” Yoongi groaned, his jeans starting to choke the life out of his cock, and not in a good way. “Shit…”

“Need… n-need you,” was all Y/N could hiccup, completely exposed for him, but not feeling a single semblance of embarrassment about that. Tail curling behind him in mesmerizing shapes, Y/N gripped at his solid biceps pleafully.

“Needy thing,” Yoongi commented, sloppily kissing over the swell of her breast, enjoying the sounds of her helpless mewls. “God, I can smell you.”

Clumsily, Y/N tugged the zipper of Yoongi’s jeans down, yanking the fabric halfway down his legs, her breath coming out in pants as Yoongi laved his tongue over her nipple indulgently, hardly noticing she was trying to strip him. Gasping when he took the bud into his mouth, sucking and scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh, Y/N felt her thighs get tacky with moisture, impossibly turned on and wanting.

“Please, Yoongi, please. Fuck me,” Y/N wasn’t above begging at that point, far past the point of no return, Yoongi distractedly shucking off his jeans and slotting himself between Y/N’s parted legs. The weight of his hips against her bare core had her clenching around nothing, and she arched upwards to seek out the hardness in his boxers eagerly for any kind of friction.

Yoongi simply hummed at her request, releasing her nipple with a lewd pop, one of his hands tracing over her hip bone before he mercifully ghosted his digits over her dewy sex, a low hiss coming from the back of his throat when he realized how wet she was.

“Always so fuckin’ wet,” Yoongi teased, batting her hand away when she reached for his wrist, a drenched forefinger swiping through her folds. “All for me?”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N canted her hips upwards, chasing his touch, whining thinly when he just missed grazing her clit. “Please. Want you, want you inside of m-me.”

“Wanna taste you first,” Yoongi smirked devilishly, Y/N beginning to protest, just wanting to feel him, but he moved too quickly, and all Y/N could do was sink her hands into his long tresses, his face now eye-level with her cunt. “All of this, and I’ve hardly done anything.”

Too caught up at staring at his fucked-out expression, Y/N didn’t have time to feel embarrassed, Yoongi using his strong grip to maneuver her legs over his shoulders, making himself comfortable between her legs. Whether or not he noticed that her thighs were coated in her slick was beyond Y/N, and due to the position he had manhandled her into, she couldn’t close her legs to hide the evidence of her overwhelming arousal.

Transfixed, Yoongi’s touch returned to her pussy, biting his lip when more wetness leaked out of her when his thumb brushed over her clit. She was so sensitive, responsive, tiny cries of pure want filling his ears, and it drove him absolutely crazy, paired with the scent of her lust. Wasting no more time, he locked eyes, her pupils blown out, eyebrows pinched, and kissed right above the hood of her clit, chuckling when her hips jerked in consequence. With a deft lick, Yoongi dragged his tongue through her folds, feeling Y/N’s legs shaking over his shoulders, a wail leaving her throat.

Y/N couldn’t help her spine from contorting off the mattress, yanking on Yoongi’s hair sharply, a muffled grunt coming from his lips as he wrapped them around her clit, humming lightly and making Y/N see stars. It was almost too much to bear, Yoongi’s sinful tongue dipping into her entrance, his forearm keeping her hips pinned down. Alarmingly, Y/N felt herself already hurtling towards her release, Yoongi’s mouth on her paired with the unbroken eye contact had her stomach tightening quickly.

“Yoongi,” Y/N whined, pressing herself into his face desperately, cheeks on fire when he raised an eyebrow, using the flat of his tongue to collect all of the wetness that had gathered between her legs, the erotic visual making her eyes roll shut. “Ah!”

Yoongi paused, assessing the mess he made of her, using a free hand to stroke through her folds, Y/N begging for more, for anything, and Yoongi didn’t want to tease her too much, so with one last breathy please, Yoongi sunk a finger into her cunt. Cursing at the tightness, he curled his finger, attempting to open her up a little bit, a second digit joining the first, Y/N writhing in his grip.

“Squeezin’ me, baby, are you gonna cum already?” Yoongi taunted, feeling her clamp down onto his fingers even tighter, her lip bitten raw as she cried out his name. “That’s it, honey.”

“Yoongi, want you,” Y/N managed to gasp, gripping the wrist that was between her legs, halting his movements. “Please, now, want you.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?” Yoongi asked softly, pulling his fingers from her cunt, sliding the coated digits into his mouth, his free hand moving to the hemline of his boxers, Y/N’s eyes immediately dropping to the bulge beneath the fabric, her mouth watering. “Turn over.”

Blinking, Y/N shakily scooched up the bed, rolling onto her front, hearing Yoongi shuffle forward on his knees, his boxers tossed on the floor, Y/N turning her head slightly to get a good look at him, his sharp teeth prodding at his fleshy lower lip. Sighing blissfully when his hands caressed her hips gently, she squealed when he dragged them up, using his other hand to reach for a pillow, placing it underneath her, arranging her limbs so she was resting comfortably. Cheeks burning, she felt the pillow beneath her hips and lower abdomen, her ass on display as she arched her spine, leaning on her forearms.

“Look at you, waiting so patiently,” Yoongi’s touch returned, his palms landing heavily on her ass, making her shudder and keen, opening her mouth to tell him to hurry up. Before she could, however, Yoongi spoke again. “Ready, baby?”

“Please,” Y/N wiggled her hips, hoping to tempt him into picking up the pace, feeling sweat slip down her spine. She sounded wrecked, eager, and Yoongi groaned, holding the base of his cock in one hand, the other squeezing one of her cheeks.

Shaky breath rounding out into a moan, she felt him press against her weeping sex, running the tip through her folds teasingly, his own breaths coming out in labored pants, slowly losing control as he ground against her. Gripping Yoongi’s sheets for dear life, she huffed in annoyance at his teasing, feeling wetness dribble down the inside of her thighs in anticipation. After what felt like minutes, Yoongi stopped messing around, lining himself up, using a palm splayed across Y/N’s lower back as leverage and finally pushed in, only an inch or two, Y/N instantly clenching down on him with a broken whimper.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi grunted, moving as slowly as he could, and when his pelvis was flush with her ass, he weakly collapsed on top of her, bracing a hand beside her head. Y/N felt her walls fluttering around his generous length and girth frantically, the position she was in making him feel like he was in her guts, and she was hardly aware of the pathetic sounds spilling from her mouth. “This pussy…”

“F-full,” Y/N stuttered, Yoongi’s breath on the back of her neck as he let her get used to the feeling, grazing his teeth along the junction of her shoulder and throat. “Hnngh–”

“Yeah? Stuffed full of me?” Yoongi’s voice was dark, dulcet, and in her ear, and Yoongi was all Y/N could feel– pressed against her back, scent clinging to the sheets, cock buried in her pussy. “Fuck. Stop clenching.”

“C-can’t help it,” Y/N replied, Yoongi wrapping his hand around her waist, giving his hips an experimental roll, Y/N choking on an intake of air with the movement. “Oh, d-don’t stop–”

Moaning into her neck, Yoongi snapped his hips forward, setting a strong, almost punishing pace right away, unable to hold back, and wanting to fuck the jealousy out of her. Yoongi was always more fond of showing, rather than telling, anyways.

“I’m yours,” Yoongi mumbled into the skin over her shoulder blade, sucking a bruise into the flesh, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh filling his bedroom, Y/N’s voice scratchy from the constant mewls leaving her mouth. “Got that?”

“Nn– ah! Oh,” Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the support from the pillow beneath her adding even more pressure to the way he was pounding into her, even the fabric of the pillowcase adding friction against her clit in the most delicious way. “Mine!”

“That’s right,” Yoongi peeled himself from her back, adjusting his position so he could fuck into her with greater strength, gathering up the hair along the nape of her neck and wrapping it around his wrist. “All for you, baby. Say my name.”

“Yoongi, oh my g– fuck, gonna cum soon,” Y/N wailed, the way he was tugging her hair back making her scalp smart, but between the pain and the pleasure, Y/N was nearly careening off the edge of sanity. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Yoongi spat through his teeth, not letting up on the pace one bit, kneading the flesh of her asscheek. “You’ve already got my cock, you need more?”

Contrary to his taunts, Yoongi gave her more, reaching underneath, using a forefinger to rub circles around her clit, Y/N’s vision going white as she came without warning, clamping down on Yoongi so hard he swore colorfully, hips stuttering against her ass as she writhed from beneath him. He let go of her hair, kissing down the length of her spine, helping her through her orgasm as best he could while keeping up the swift pace of his thrusts.

“Can you take a bit more, love?” Yoongi soothed a hand down her back, her body shivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, nodding dazedly as she pressed her ass backwards into Yoongi. “Come here, roll over. Wanna see your face.”

Y/N was boneless, but Yoongi helped her flip over, tossing the pillow to the side. She whined when his cock slipped from her, but Yoongi was quick to remedy that, pushing back in as soon as her limp arms looped around his neck. Groaning at the new angle, Yoongi kept his thrusts slow, punctuated by a light grind to the spongy tissue of her G-spot, Y/N dissolving into a complete mess. The mood turned sensual, Yoongi leaning down to press his lips to hers, and even if Y/N wasn’t a hybrid, she could sense his love for her by the way he held the side of her face tenderly. Tucking hair behind his ear, Y/N crossed her ankles behind his back, feeling the way his cock throbbed inside of her– he must have been getting close.

“Come, Yoongi,” Y/N pressed her forehead to her lover’s, raking her nails down his chest lightly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi gasped, Y/N feeling her gut tighten once again when he hit a sweet spot inside of her, and after two more strokes, she was coming again, gasping and moaning into the leopard hybrid’s mouth. “I–”

Without warning, Yoongi stilled, his mouth on her collarbone, teeth sinking into the flesh, heightening the bliss of her orgasm. She felt him spilling inside of her, sweet, filthy nothings falling from his lips as he came, tongue swiping over the bite he had given her absently. Hazy from the scenting, she let Yoongi roll the two of them onto their sides, his cock still nestled between her walls, the leopard hybrid cleaning up the wound on her neck in a way that was more primal, feline, than ever, his chest rumbling with loud purrs.

Limbs like jelly, Y/N closed her eyes, melting into Yoongi’s sheets as his tongue dragged over her neck lazily, the post-fuck and post-scenting haze having her so lax, she hardly noticed the mixture of their releases rolling down her thighs. She didn’t have enough energy to say anything, simply clinging to him like a baby kangaroo, fingers gliding along his sweat-dampened back.

“Still jealous?” Yoongi broke the content silence, tracing shapes along her ribcage lovingly, his purrs unbroken and strong.

“No,” Y/N replied meekly, hiding her face in his collarbones, suddenly embarrassed she entertained any feelings of envy at all.

“I know, can’t smell it anymore,” Yoongi snickered, Y/N rolling her eyes at the fact that he was back to his sarcastic, deadpan self. “Guess I just had to fuck it out of you.”

“You’re so vulgar,” Y/N lightly shoved his chest away, wincing when she felt him pull out of her, and the sensation of his cum dribbling out of her. “I never would have thought.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Yoongi retorted, kissing her forehead gently, his lips bent upwards in a tiny smile. “Wanna get cleaned up?”

“Mmm,” Y/N groaned noncommittally, knowing that walking would probably be an issue. “Not really.”

“I can carry you,” Yoongi’s laughter grew in volume, clearly enjoying that he had completely ruined her, squeezing the meat of her ass in one hand playfully.

“Fine,” Y/N pouted, not ready to break free from their post-coital bliss, but knowing that it would probably be wise to bathe and attempt to look normal before the other hybrids came home.

Yoongi carried her bridal-style into his bathroom, and Y/N leaned on his shoulder while the water heated up, enjoying his warmth and presence. Once in the shower, the leopard hybrid supported her, her back to his chest as the hot water beat down on their skin. Hooking his chin over her shoulder, his wet hair tickling her cheek, Y/N gripped the forearms he had wrapped around her middle, sighing.

“I love you,” Yoongi said quietly, planting a kiss on the bite he had given her.

Turning in his arms, Y/N chose to respond by leaning up, brushing her lips against his softly, hands winding around his neck as steam filled the shower.

“Hope you didn’t fill up too much on the toffee,” Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt, making sure the parking ticket for the garage she parked in was stuffed in her wallet.

“I didn’t! I skipped lunch, too,” Seokjin was hurrying out of the car, glancing around the parking garage curiously, correcting his stride to match Y/N’s, pulling his wool coat tightly around his body.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that. You must be starving,” Y/N pouted, her fingertips twitching to hold his hand. It was Valentine’s Day, and most of the day had passed by uneventfully, but that evening, she and Seokjin traveled into the city for the cooking lesson.

“I just didn’t know how much we’d end up cooking, wanted to be prepared to stuff my face!” Seokjin joked, a merry smile on his face. After she had given him his Valentine that morning, it seemed that goofy, fond Seokjin was back, and he could finally smile at her with it actually reaching his eyes. Progress was progress, she supposed.

“I think we’re making three courses,” Y/N grinned as Seokjin pulled the door to the mall for her. He looked gorgeous, as always, in black slacks and a powder blue button down, his wavy hair swept off his forehead. “Three courses, three different wine tastings. I’m excited!”

Seokjin’s sleek black tail flicked behind him, sticking close to Y/N’s side as they navigated through Copley Place, and when she felt him growing nervous with the amount of people clogging up the narrow aisles of Eataly, she hooked her hand around his elbow, pulling him into her side for comfort.

Fortunately for Seokjin, the actual classroom where they were going to cook in was spacious, at the back of the market, and there were only a few other pairs of people taking the class with them. Seokjin appeared to be the only hybrid, however, and naturally every pair of eyes in the room was on him as he draped his coat on the rack by the door, his ears fluttering excitedly as he noticed the station that had a card with Y/N’s last name printed on it.

The instructor appeared to be an older Italian man, one with a thick accent and golden skin, greeting everybody happily. To Y/N’s relief, the instructor didn’t greet Seokjin any differently than anyone else, simply handing the jaguar hybrid two red-and-white striped aprons for them to wear.

“Today, we’ll be learning about the cuisine of Rome, and cooking some of my favorite dishes from all over Italy,” the man began once all of the students were in their aprons and standing eagerly behind their stations. Y/N noticed that most of the people in the class were older, perhaps married, couples, with one pair of college students in the back of the room. “We’ll be making a bruschetta, linguine alle vongole, and saltimbocca for our three courses, all paired with a lovely wine.”

Seokjin was nearly shaking with excitement beside her, checking out all of the dials on the stovetop, the raw ingredients in front of them, and the array of kitchen tools available for their use. He paid rapt attention to the man explaining the origins of the dishes they were going to prepare, his ears perked up. Once the little history lesson was over, the instructor walked them through the steps to make fresh pasta for the vongole, and she and Seokjin exchanged smug smirks– they both already knew how to make fresh pasta, and while some of the other couples were struggling to assemble the dough, her’s and Seokjin’s was plastic wrapped and chilling in the mini fridge already. Seokjin positively preened under the praise of the instructor, his neck turning red, and Y/N snorted and shook her head as she sliced through some tomatoes for the bruschetta topping.

Meanwhile, Seokjin handled the veal steaks for the saltimbocca, using a mallet to pound the meat to a certain thinness, and the first round of wine came around, the glass they were to nurse while they cooked. Here and there, Seokjin would crack a joke or two, corny as ever, but they made her choke on her wine and laughter.

“When asked about his cooking skills, the sage replied, ‘I’m herbally gifted’,” Seokjin held up a sage leaf he was using toothpicks to attaching to the veal steaks, waving it in front of Y/N’s face with a goofy grin.

“Jin, stop, I’m gonna pee my pants,” Y/N whispered, cheeks sore from smiling so much. It had been a while since she spent such quality time with Seokjin, and she realized how much she missed him, with a painful twang of her heart.

Seokjin’s grin only grew wider, hand reaching up to ruffle Y/N’s hair affectionately, one of the first times he actually touched her since finding out about her and Yoongi. Delighted, Y/N took a happy sip of wine, getting back to work on the sauce for the vongole.

Once everything was cooked, chairs were brought out, along with the fruity pinot grigio to be paired with the bruschetta, all while the instructor answered questions about Italian cuisine, and told stories about his childhood in Rome.

“This is so good,” Seokjin sighed, munching on a piece of bruschetta, his orange eyes wide as he tasted all of the flavors. “We get the recipes after, right?”

“Yep! We can make this whole meal again for the others. I think Hoseok would really enjoy this, too,” Y/N clinked glasses with the older woman from the station behind her, Seokjin’s cheeks beginning to color with the alcohol, already.

“This is so much fun, Y/N. We should do this again,” Seokjin suddenly became serious, glancing around the room, before his eyes softened and he made eye contact with her again.

“Absolutely. I’ve missed spending time with you,” Y/N replied without hesitancy, Seokjin’s neck turning red again when she admitted that.

Looking away, their interaction was interrupted by the instructor telling them to finish off the sauce for the vongole, and Seokjin drained his wine glass urgently before hopping to his feet to turn on the burner.

After two more glasses of wine and two delicious entrees the two of them cooked, her and her jaguar hybrid were loopily weaving their way through the market with a packet of recipes, a bottle of wine Seokjin liked the most, and free Italian cookies in their arms. Seokjin, bolder now that he was tipsy, insisted on holding the bag with all of the items, and finally, he offered her a hand as they walked through the mall.

“Want to go for a little walk before we head back to the car?” Y/N asked, threading her fingers through his, Seokjin staring down at her through his eyelashes with that thoughtful expression she had seen on his face only once or twice before. Truthfully, she both wanted to spend a bit more alone time with Seokjin, and she felt like some cool nighttime air would sober her up enough to drive home confidently.

“Okay,” Seokjin squeezed her hand, following her down the escalator to the street outside of the mall, the sky already dark and the city lights keeping the streets illuminated.

Not too many people were out, everyone seemed to be having their romantic Valentine’s Day dinners in the multiple restaurants studding the sidewalks, and it was much too cold for a leisurely stroll for most people. Tummy full, she stuck close to Seokjin, who radiated heat like a furnace, and Y/N was grateful for the slight buzz from the wine that was keeping her warm as well. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, only broken once or twice when Seokjin would ask her about a restaurant they would stroll by.

“Thank you for tonight,” Seokjin spoke out of the blue, letting Y/N hook her arm around his in an attempt to steal some of his body heat.

“You don’t have to thank me, honey, it was for your birthday!” Y/N insisted, reaching up to flick the dangling earrings that were threaded through his left earlobe– another birthday present from her. “I should thank you for letting me use the other ticket. I learned so much, got to hang out with you for a while, ate yummy food…”

Y/N paused, feeling cold and wet hit her forehead, stopping in front of an old church, the lights from inside making the colored stained glass glow and cast pretty hues over the sidewalk. Looking up, she made a soft noise of exclamation, clumps of snow falling from the sky. Letting go of Seokjin temporarily, she did a twirl, head craned skyways, admiring the way the snowflakes floated gently through the air. She didn’t realize Seokjin was repeating her name until his hand was on her shoulder, his lip tucked between his teeth.

“Ah, we can head back now. You’re probably freezing, huh?” Y/N held her hand out for him again, but this time, he didn’t take it.

“Y/N, I have something I want to tell you, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it,” Seokjin looked from her flushed face to the windows of the church, shades of blue, green, and red highlighting his features. A ball forming in the pit of her stomach, she dropped her outstretched hand, nervous about the seriousness of his tone, his whole voice going down a pitch.

“It’s okay, tell me,” Y/N, while nervous, was curious as well, freezing when Seokjin released a breathy exhale, gathering up her hands in one of his, the contact appearing to ease his nerves.

“I– I know you, um. You’re with Yoongi, you love him,” Seokjin swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Wine churning in her gut, she nodded, taken aback that that was the night he chose to first address the relationship. “And I’m happy for you, I am, Yoongi too. But…”

“It makes you uncomfortable?” Y/N murmured, heart beating painfully in her chest. Seokjin bit his lip again, shaking his head, but conflict flashed in his eyes.

“No. I mean, somewhat, yes,” Seokjin sucked his teeth, tugging her closer into his proximity.

“Is there a specific reason why, Seokjinnie?” Y/N would be heartbroken if Seokjin would push her away after such a wonderful night spent together, but she would deal with it if it came to that.

“I’m,” Seokjin swallowed thickly again, before squaring his shoulders with his ears flat to his head, lowering his face closer to Y/N’s like he was about to tell her a secret. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime12 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

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charles-leclerizz · 8 months ago

Text

🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑ cat-quette

🏁 Pairings : Max vertsappen X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : fluffy as hell, suggestive language and one suggestive scene.

🏁 Word Count : 2.7k words (2742 words)

🏁 Summary : Sometimes, a family of 4 needs just one more addition, so you and your boyfriend venture out to find the perfect new daughter

🏁 translations via radio comm below

🏁 credits : word dividers by @gigittamic

🏁 Music player : Winter blossom by Dept, Ashley blossom, nobody like you pat

“Come on Maxie, please” You draw at the syllable at the end of your plea, dancing in your spot in your shared kitchen, “Imagine it, you, me, jimmy, sassy and a third cat, we could name it, kibble or something.”

Max looked at you with a worried expression, one brow arched in questioning, “Kibble?” He continued to knead the bread dough in front of him, slamming his hands into the mixture that sat fluffy and aerated on your marble counter, “You just demonstrated why we can’t get a third cat, you’re gonna make it depressed in the first 2 days.”

“Now that’s mean.” You cross your arms over and harrumph, going over to the stove to stir the searing vegetables in the pan.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him wash his hands free of the dough that remained on his fingers before going back to the olive oil doused ball and placing it into a wooden bowl, he then laid a fresh white cloth over the dough and transferred it into the fridge for it to rise for about 40 minutes.

You then felt his presence behind you, then you felt his hands snake around your waist and then his head followed suit, nuzzling into your neck before placing a soft kiss on your skin, “I’m sorry schat.” He mumbled, tickling your ear with his soft tufts of blonde hair.

“Y’know,” You paused briefly in between your enraged sauteing, stainless steel spatula in the air, “I don’t think you are.”

“But I reeeaaallly am.” He copied your elongated whine, shifting the two of you by guiding you side to side, oscillating gently as though you were the dough and he was trying to knead the forgiveness out of you, “How about this..” he started, laughing inwardly when your ears perked up and you attempted to discreetly turn off the gas so you could spin in his hold. Looping your arms around his neck you prompted him to continue, “We could go to the pet shop tomorrow.” He murmured, looking up into the air, despite your vice like grip on his head as though the particles would answer him and not your already giddy form in front of him.

“Yeah?” You danced slightly in his hold, wiggling your hips like a hyper child, “You promise?”

“You can drive pista if I forget.” He nodded solemnly.

“Oh shit-“ You lean back, impressed with his dedication, “You really are sorry”

“dat is alles wat nodig is?” He blubbers, eyes wide for dramatic effect, as you would like to call it, “Your standards are low, real low my love.”

You furrow your brows, playfully hitting the underside of his head before leaning up to kiss his grimaced lips, "What else is new? How else do you think this happened?” You gestured between the two of you.

Max hummed, leaning down to kiss your cheek before trailing down to your jaw, he grinned against you when your breath hitched and you pulled him closer, if that was possible, “I wooed you?” He tried; you snorted in response.

“Yeah, you wooed the heck out of me, yee old Maximillian Verstappen, one foul scowl at me and bam four years later here we are.”

You yelped when he bit your neck.

“Hmm, I’m just so so handsome?” He couldn’t hold his laugh back at this claim.

“I first met you when you were a scrawny 18-year-old, but yes, you are very handsome.” you coo at him whilst caressing his face.

Max hummed in agreement, “I know.”

“You’re not going to compliment me?” You asked.

“Hmm…nope.” He shrugged.

You gaped at him for a beat before lunging at his face and taking the soft skin of his cheek between your teeth, holding it there and growling playfully. Max yelped and laughed at your pseudo-attack before pushing you away and taking your lips captive with his as revenge, “You’re much prettier than me geliefde.” He added before his tongue slipped between your lips.

“Max... the food” You helplessly remind him when he finally detaches from you, only to lift you into his arms and move to the left to sit you down onto the counter, slotting himself in between your pliantly open thighs you draw him closer despite your objections.

“Fuck the food...” He murmurs against your ear, kissing behind it and trailing his mouth lower and lower until he reached your baby blue, silk camisole. Max looks up at you briefly, his bottom lip just barely breaching the collar of your flowy top, you stare down at him eyes heavy and threatening to flutter closed with every hot breath of his that fanned over your chest.

You bring one hand away from his neck to drag down his face, your middle finger just barely anchored on his mouth, pulling down his lip until he stopped your journey south and took the soft digit into his mouth, “Yeah, that sounds fair.” You breathed out, already jumping back into his embrace, preparing yourself to slam the bedroom door closed with a breathless laugh.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You ask him, plugging in your hairdryer and drawing out a large barrelled round brush from the containers that sat on your counter. The bathroom door was wide open as you waited expectantly for Max to emerge from the walk-in closet on the opposite side of the room, the only divider being your bed and a half-length wall.

“What? What did I forget?” Your boyfriend looked down at his phone, waiting for a calendar event to remind him, when that didn’t happen, he looked up at you.

You remained still, just flicking on the contraption in your hands and drowning out his obliviousness with the sound of luke-warm air drying your hair.

“Babe?” he tried once.

“Babe?” He tried again.

“Babe?”

You finally snapped, large brush still wrapped in your hair as your hand pressed your silky strands into the bristles and hair sprayed the volume into it, “Max, you’re shitting me, right? That’s it, keys to the pista.” You ordered, tapping your nail against the counter space next to you.

That’s when the realisation hit the driver in front of you, his face blanched and he rushed up to you, “See, I didn’t forget I conveniently played stupid?” He tried; eyes slightly lit up with hope.

“You’re right-“ You start, snorting at the badly veiled victorious expression on his face, “You are stupid.”

By this point, Max had reached the threshold of the bathroom and had slumped forward, the only thing stopping him from face-planting the expensive tiled floor were his hands braced on the doorframe, “Not the pista, baby, anything else.”

“What about one of your Aston Martins ?,” You faced him, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in the large mirror ahead.

Max’s face fell at the mention of his beloved collection of Aston’s, “Okay, so maybe we take the Pista…”

You pouted at him, swiping on a generous amount of pink lip-gloss, “I knew I should’ve been on top last night.”

The rollers in your hair fell one by one as you undid them, smiling cheekily to yourself when Max choked on his own spit, “What’s that meant to mean?”

“Don’t ask questions, that you don’t want to know the answers to.” You pass by him in the doorway, pinching his cheeks together and pecking him quickly on his duck-lips.

“So it’s the Pista?” He hollered from his place, craning his neck to where you had turned into the closet.

He heard you snort, and the rustling of fabric before you answered him, “It’s the most expensive Aston Martin you own!”

You ended up taking the pista.

But your resignation was soon vindicated when you broke the speed limits the whole drive from your apartment to the best pet store in the city.

“Heer, red mij” Max prayed, hand braced on the ceiling of the sports car as your heeled foot pressed even harder onto the accelerator, the car purred happily whilst you cruised along the mountain road, the view of the crashing waves almost therapeutic, until the serene scene was broken with a-

“BEN JE NET 150 KM/U BREKEN? HOE?” A shaky finger followed promptly afterwards, tapping the speedometer a few times.

You blow a nonchalant breath through your lips, “You’re a formula one driver Maxie, why are you so scared?”

“We don’t normally drive like hooligans, it’s precise and practise-“

You interrupted his rant by miraculously increasing your pace and speeding down the empty highway ahead, Max slammed one hand against the window as an ungodly screech erupted from the 3-time world champion.

Safe to say, you arrived at the pet store in a safe condition.

Never mind that Max had rushed out of the passenger’s seat to press a kiss to the hood of the car, before running to a few nearby bushes and attempting to uproot his breakfast.

Though, with no such luck of evacuating the contents of his stomach, he waddled over to where you stood unimpressed albeit also concerned to knit your hands together, pecking your forehead a few times he allowed you to guide him into the shop.

“Oh my god Maxie, look!” You squealed, rushing up to the large glass display of a dozen or so hamsters, the various coloured furballs rolled around the spacious enclosure as you cooed down at them.

Max bent down as well, but soon caught eye of the “HALF OFF” sign and stood straight, “’M not sure geliefde, maybe not hamsters, jimmy, and sassy like the taste of em.”

You nodded once, wrenching your gaze away from one of the hamsters that you had already grown fond off to hold your boyfriend’s hand once more, “You could be less crude about it.” You mumble inwardly.

“You’re telling me, about being crude.” He scoffed down at you before looping his arms around your neck and tucking you into his side.

The pair of you continued to walk around the retail, swerving into and out of isles whilst browsing each selection of pet that could potentially enter your home.

Max had to continuously drag you away from the more exotic selection that there was on display, that was after you had convinced the store clerk to wrap a domestic snake around his neck.

“You look like you’re about to throw up” You giggle, pointing your phone at Max, who’s face had turned an alarming red as the docile snake snuggled up to his thick neck.

“I’m about to faint, no shit right now, this is not babygirl schat, this is abuse.” He hissed, quoting what you had said to convince him in the first place, he brought one shaky hand up to pet the reptile, a laboured “shhh” noise escaping the dutchman as though he were coercing the docile animal to not strangle the life out of him.

Luckily, the over-amused store clerk unwrapped the snake from his shoulders before Max simultaneously shit himself and cried.

“Maxie, look” You rushed over to another enclosure, this time, it was a large area on the floor walled off with pet gates, plush pillows were propped up against the black grate along with tumultuous cat toys spread across the floor. Luckily, to match the mess, there were at least 15 kittens, all different breeds, some were sleeping on their tummies, fluffy eyes closed as their four limbs spread out oddly whilst others were being entertained by other enraptured patrons.

“Hi guys,” You whispered, tucking your skirt beneath your thighs as your crouched down again, coming eye to eye with the adorable animals, “You’re so cute,” Max had joined you promptly, hitching up his jeans as he lowered himself next to you, large blue eyes following the cats.

A worker noticed the two of you and left their previous customers, a couple, much like yourselves, the two people cuddled a soft brown kitten who nuzzled into their shared embrace.

“Hi! Can I help you?”

You looked up at her, smiling, “My boyfriend and I were looking for a new addition to our family, I would love to bring home one of these guys.” You gestured to the large play pen.

“Well, that’s just lovely! But the cat’s choose you guys, not the other way around.” The middle-aged woman laughed, her olive skin stretching as she unlocked the gate and ushered the two of you in, “That’s how me and my husband got our cat.”

“Oh...” You stood eerily still as multiple odd fluff-balls came and sniffed your heels before trotting away, “What if none of them like me?” You whisper to Max, who already housed at least 3 kittens by his feet, “Nonsense, you just have to be patient darling.” He kissed your cheek and rubbed your arm comfortingly.

After about 10 minutes of you gingerly attempting to welcome a companion into your embrace, a smaller, more fur decadent kitten walked out from behind the small playhouse that sat in the far corner of the enclosure. It cocked its head curiously at you before yawning and shaking its back, and rump, its snow-white fur oscillating with its movements.

“Hi honey,” You whispered, bending down to allow it to clamber sleepily into your lap, you squealed internally, standing up once again with the kitten safely embraced into your arms, its back angled comfortably on your forearms and head rested on your chest whilst it blinked slowly at you, pale green eyes shining happily.

Max grinned serenely at the pair of you, watching as you brought a hand up to rub gently on the pink nose of the animal in your care, “I think you just got chosen.” He laughed quietly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he gazed down at the sleepy cat.

“Her name’s pookie.” You declared giddily as you approached the car, holding out your hand for the keys to the expensive car. Max stared at you, fear evident in his eyes.

“You can name her whatever you want, but you are not driving the car, we have precious cargo now,” He petted pookie behind her ear.

“Fine, come here baby.” You barely pouted, already taking pookie and her small, shell shaped bed into your arms. She rested peacefully in your lap, purring contently as Max hauled the other pink cat care items you had bought, into the back seat.

“So, I just had to buy you a cat?” Max inquired; hand braced on the back of your headrest as he backed out of the parking spot.

You lean over the dash to kiss Max’s stubble covered cheek, “It’s so easy to please me, my love.”

“Well….” He squeaked, looking over at you suggestively.

“You perv,” You smacked his forehead but laughed nonetheless, “There’s children present.”

“So, Max?”

The driver perked up at his name, flipping the microphone in his hand to answer the question, he leaned back against the white sofa where he was joined by a few other of his fellow colleagues all of whom turned to the questioner in the sea of reporters.

“We’ve heard you have a new addition to the family?”

Max laughed into the mic, before adjusting the cap on his head and nodding, “Very true yes, the missus and I just got a new kitten into the house.” He plucked out his phone and held up a photo of you and Pookie, both of whom were turned away from the lens to face the large window showing of the Monaco coastline.

A flurry of ‘awws’ escaped the people present, and Charles who also swooned at the photo spoke into the mic, “Do you guys have a name yet?”

“Kind of, she wanted to name it ‘pookie’ and I just think that when I talk about the kitten, I’ll sound like an idiot, it doesn’t feel right with my accent.”

Charles popped his mouth open, “Wait- you call me pookie?”

Back at home, you had snuggled up to Jimmy and Sassy, both of whom had settled with laying their heads onto each of your legs whilst you held Pookie close to your chest, caressing her cheek, “That’s what you get leclerc.” You snarl at the screen, “Stealing my boyfriend, leaving our children fatherless, you whore.” You joked, filming your commentary to send to Max, who on the television screen was already justifying the similar names between his new daughter, and his work wife.

Pookie blinked up at you, and you swore, that she smiled at your determined face.

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...Dutch....to english....over

dat is alles wat nodig is ? - that's all it takes ?

Geliefde - Love [r]

Heer, red mij - Lord, save me

BEN JE NET 150 KM/U BREKEN? HOE? - DID YOU JUST BREAK 150 KPH? HOW?

schat - Darling/Love/Babe [term of endearment]

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ohimsummer · 9 months ago

Text

✎ . . .❝ WRONG CHOCOLATE, DUMBASS! ❞

— poly! stsgverse, sfw biting, explicit language, sassy man suguru, jealous! gojo if you squint, geto + reader banter

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ there’s one line (at the end) that implies reader is black, other than that it’s fair game :3

“i knew it was too quiet in here.”

two heads tilt to rest on the back of the couch, four eyes watching geto lean against the living room doorway. you giggle in his direction, breaking off another piece of the candy bar to nibble on.

“yeah, he offered me his silence in exchange for some of my chocolate.” you gesture towards the large, half-eaten symphony bar. “staying true to his word, too. i thought he was bein’ a big, fat liar.”

you’d know those blues were glaring even without turning around, or suguru’s lighthearted snickers. the dragon is appeased with another square of almond and toffee-riddled chocolate, and gojo makes sure to nip at your fingers as he takes the candy into his mouth; your pointed look goes ignored before you give his pale nose a flick and gojo yelps like a hurt dog; it’s a scene straight out of a sitcom, suguru thinks.

“he’s lucky he’s cute,” you huff towards geto, “can’t eat shit around here for somebody always begging.”

geto laughs aloud at that. “you’re an enabler. just look what you’re doing now, you’ve trained him to be that way.”

“what i’m doing now? and what’s that supposed to mean?”

you glance between him and gojo, whose long arms are wrapped snug around your waist, cheek resting on your chest and white bangs tickling your skin as he’s practically trapped you beneath him. pouting his toffee-tasting lips at you because you’re not hand-feeding him sweets fast enough.

maybe you get what suguru’s saying. but that doesn’t mean pride will allow you to admit it. “i don’t see the issue.”

geto just shakes his head and he disappears into the kitchen. “and that’s your problem, right there.”

you take another bite of the chocolate, gojo’s attention-seeking groan falling on deaf ears. “i’m so sick of you and that attitude, suguru.”

“oh, are you?” his taunt is shortly followed by the fridge door closing shut. “you gonna fight me about it or what?”

“and will.”

the broad man reappears in the doorway, cracking open a bottle of water. he doesn’t say a word, though the arch of his brows and the way his eyes narrow as he looks you up and down does all the talking for him.

“oh shut up.” you feel soft lips brush against your arm. the tingling sensation causes you to fidget, inadvertently moving the chocolate bar just as gojo moves in for a bite—a shark losing its prey. he gives out a loud sigh in another effort to be noticed, though it’s a noise that is overlooked.

“why, i haven’t said a word, darling.” geto snorts before taking a few sips of water. “i just…find that threat…a bit interesting coming from you.”

“see, now what is that supposed to mean?”

restlessness shoots throughout gojo’s limbs as his eyes follow the candy bar back and forward. you’re too busy returning sassy gestures to suguru, and he can’t find a good opportunity to take another bite with you moving so much. this was not a part of the deal he made with you.

“you just wait til I get up, i’m gonna beat that a–ow!”

water spurts from geto’s lips as he fails miserably at holding in his laughter; he slaps the back of a hand over his mouth before scurrying away into the kitchen for a paper towel. meanwhile, gojo meets your wide-eyed gaze with an unimpressed frown, blinking as you rub over the fresh teeth indentations on your forearm.

“you—!” satoru scrunches his face, drawling out an ‘owww!’ as you shove two fingers into his forehead. “that’s the wrong chocolate, dumbass!”

tagz: @staryukis @anthoosies @hellkaiserinphoenix @astral-hydromancy @flvffybunny @exinqiu @luvr-exe @reallifepearl @purplegemadventures @roseqzpd @sataraxia @trafalgarrattata @snackeyalleyjuice @apatauaia @leilalilox @getouolgy @elleflying07

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maxcuntstappen · 8 months ago

Text

wanted to post some comfort lestappen after yesterday and generally to kind of cleanse the energy of the tumblr dash over the last couple of days.

enjoy <3

“Baby,” Max says, “Come on.”

It doesn’t change anything. Charles stays lying on his front, his face buried in his pillow.

He looks so small like this. So tiny. It makes Max want to protect him, to kiss his forehead and hold him close and keep him there for as long as they live.

“Charlie,” Max whispers, fingers reaching out to comb through Charles’ soft, brown locks, “Talk to me please.”

Charles replies, but the words reach Max all garbled, the sound swallowed up by the intruding pillow.

But still. It’s progress.

Max lies down on his side next to Charles, throwing an arm over his waist. He kisses Charles’ cheek. Once, twice. Three more times.

And finally, like the sun breaking through grey clouds, Charles’ head turns towards him. Just a little bit. Only a single beautiful green eye looking at Max.

“Hi,” Max smiles, his hand caressing Charles’ cheek, “It’s nice to see your lovely face.”

And despite everything, Charles smiles. It makes Max feel like he’s won a goddamn trophy.

“Do we not want to talk about what’s wrong?”

Charles shakes his head.

Max hums.

It’s not ideal. Charles is the kind of person who always feels better once he talks his emotions out. But if he doesn’t want to, Max will not force him.

“Is there something else we can do, that I can do which would help?”

Charles’ bottom lip sticks out, a cute little pout that makes Max’s chest ache.

“I don’t know,” Charles whispers, his voice rough and heavy, “I don’t know what to do, what will help.”

Max nods, running through his mental directory of things and activities that he knows Charles enjoys.

“I think,” Charles begins, biting his lip.

“Yes?” Max urges, running his fingers down the length of Charles’ spine, smiling gently at the shiver that follows.

“I think I just want to be sad for a bit,” Charles says, his eyes so careful, so observant, undoubtedly evaluating all of Max’s expressions, “I just want to be sad and watch some tv and that’s all.”

Max doesn’t know what to think. Or say.

It’s not something Charles has done before, as far as Max is aware of. Charles either talks about it or works out about it or writes some music about it. He’s never just… been with it. That’s more of Max’s thing.

“Is that okay?” Charles asks cautiously.

“Of course it’s okay, schatje,” Max says, moving closer to kiss Charles’ nose, “Of course.”

The corners of Charles’ mouth turn up a little, making the corners of Max’s mouth turn up a whole lot.

“Do you want to be alone? I could give you some space, go sim race for a while or play with the cats.”

Charles frowns, shaking his head, “No. Stay.”

“Okay,” Max smiles, “Do you have something particular you want to watch?”

“No, not really. I just don’t want to think.”

“Okay,” Max nods, “Okay. Come on then, come here”

Max sits up, leaning against the headboard, holding his arms open.

Charles is quick to move, settling into Max’s side, breathing a sigh of relief.

“I’m going to pick the third movie that’s on our watchlist, okay?” Max asks, feeling Charles nod against him, his hair tickling the inside of Max’s arm.

Max doesn’t think he’s even heard of the movie. It’s animated and about a goose and a fish and why the hell is this on their watchlist.

Doesn’t matter. He picks it anyway.

It’s quiet as they watch the film. Something Max is not used to.

Charles is a chronic talker. Even during movies. Seriously. The man has an opinion about each scene and he will make it known.

He is really fucking lucky that Max doesn’t care much about films and would rather be listening to Charles’ voice anyways.

Yeah, it’s odd, feeling Charles next to him, matching his own breathing to his and not knowing any of the things going on in his head.

But it’s okay. It’s what Charles needs. And that’s all that matters.

Charles snorts suddenly, scaring the shit out of Max, “I don’t get it. How can a goose and a fish be friends? Like how can a goose hear what the fish is saying underwater?”

Max has to force down a cackle to be able to reply. It makes his voice sound all strange and high-pitched.

“That’s the part you decide to question and not the fact that they of course can talk?”

Charles rolls his eyes, giving Max’s arm a hard smack, “You know what I mean, you asshole.”

Max doesn’t. He really, really doesn’t.

But Charles has already moved onto sharing his next thought and he sounds lighter and he’s moving his hands around as he talks and so when he asks Max if he thinks it’s stupid that the main character goose has a ‘cooler haircut’ than the other geese, all Max does is nod and say, “So fucking stupid, schatje. It’s so stupid.”

#lestappen #lav's ficlets #f1 fic #max verstappen #charles leclerc #lestappen au

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ticklish-n-stuff · 1 year ago

Note

Heyo friend! I just realized you're taking requests for Tickletober! If it's alright with you, I'd love to see some Blue Lock from ya! (But only if you want to :3) Could I request Day 13 with Rin and Bachira? I love the idea of Bachira being a silent as the wind when he wants to be- combined with his natural tickle monster energy, poor Rin is in for one heck of a surprise lols!

You don't have to accept this if you're not interested- either way I hope you have an amazing day! I can't wait to see what you have in store this tickletober! :3 Take care and stay hydrated!

Tickletober day #7 & #13: Flustered & Sneak attack

HII SO OK I HOPE YOU BOTH DON'T MIND THAT I COMBINED THESE TWO CAUSE I RLLY WANTED TO WRITE FOR RINBACHISAGI SO WHY NOT :3

HOPE YOU BOTH ENJOY! AND THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS 💖💖💖

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Rin x Bachira x Isagi (romantic)

Lees: Rin, Isagi, Bachira

Lers: Rin, Isagi, Bachira

Warnings: Tickles!

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Oh look at that, two unsuspecting players laying calmly on their beds. Those were Bachira’s thoughts as he peaked his head through the doorframe, observing a sleepy Isagi and Rin-chan cuddling each other. The scene was very adorable, if only it could last longer, but Bachira had other plans.

Currently, Aryu and Tokimitsu weren’t in the room. Giving Bachira the perfect opportunity to launch his surprise attack. He carefully tiptoed across the room, his footsteps as quiet as… well, everything else here was very loud usually. The brunnette perched his head to looks at the sleeping boys, a warm smile on his face, before being overtaken by his monstrous desires.

“…Surprise!” Bachira jumped on top of the two of them, earning startled yelps and curses. Taking advantage of their sleepy state, Bachira managed to pin them down with ease.

“Bachira… I was sleeping…!” Isagi whined out, while Rin could only let out incoherent grumbles of annoyance.

“I know, I know! But trust me, I had good reason to wake you both up” with that, Bachira’s hands latched onto each torso. One hand massaging Isagi’s side, while the other vibrated against Rin’s toned stomach.

“Wahahait! Bachirahaha..!” Isagi instantly let out a snort of laughter, trying and failing to kick his legs out. His face instantly turning flushed at the sudden attack.

“Mph…!” Rin on the other hand, being as stubborn as he was, tried muffling his sounds with his pillow. Which only caused Bachira to tickle up his ribcage until reaching his armpit. “PFFT! BACHIRA STOAHAHAP!!” the pillow flew out of his hands, revealing Rin’s giddy expression and rosy cheeks.

“Aww! You’re so cute, Rin-chan!” Bachira gave him a teasing scratch under his chin, causing the grennette to turtle up. “And you too, Isagi-kun~” he leaned over, placing a teasing kiss on Isagi’s belly.

“EEP!” Ahahaha… Bachiraaa, plehehease…!”

The brunnette looked down, deciding to have some mercy on the tired boys. “Oh fine, is this better?~” he had now switched to gentle scratches up and down each of their arms, occassionally reaching up to their neck. It was very endearing watching the way they both purred and giggled quietly.

“Ehehe yeah… but, why now all of a sudden?” Isagi quirked up a brow.

“Yeah, usually you don’t attack this late”

It was true, Bachira wasn’t one to feel to energized at night, much less disturb his loved ones. But tonight, something in him told him to do it. He wasn’t sure how to explain it. It was more than just tickling them for fun, Bachira wanted to show them love, and this was the best way he knew how to. By making them laugh. But how was he supposed to explain all that in mere words?

“Well, uhh…” the brunnette’s voice trailed off as his eyes darted all over the room, trying to find anythint to avert their attention. But before that, he was suddenly pulled down by two pairs of strong arms. Having successfully been squished between the two boys, his back against Rin’s chest and his fron against Isagi’s.

“Since you won’t talk, how about a taste of your own medicine?” Rin whispered against his ear. Even though his voice was usually monotone, there was a slight hint of playfulness behind it that Bachira couldn’t miss. The tease made his cheeks instantly flare up.

“Oh? Is our cute tickle monster flustered at the thought of being tickled?~” Isagi was now overtaken by his confident persona, much to Bachira’s dismay.

Before the brunnette could get a peep out, Rin started working his way around his neck, while Isagi was gently spidering all over his tummy and sides.

“Eep! Ehehehehe! Guhuhuys..!” he squeaked and giggled like a happy child. There wasn’t much room for him to squirm, which made this feel all the more flustering. Bachira did the poor choice of looking up at Isagi’s face. He felt his face turn a deeper crimson at the loving gaze the other was sending. And even though he couldn’t see Rin-chan’s face, the way he was holding him so closely was all that Bachira needed to know that they too loved him back.

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#augtickletober2023 #tickletober2023 #blue lock #blue lock tickle #blue lock tickle fic #rin itoshi #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi #lee!rin #lee!bachira #lee!isagi #ler!rin #ler!bachira #ler!isagi

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rosiesramblings · 2 years ago

Text

Growing Out of It

Fandom: Stranger Things, Steddie

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Here is my squealing santa submission for @apricots-and-dynamite !!!!! Happy holidays! I hope you like your fic! And thank you to Hypah for organizing this whole thing this year. 10/10

It was a typical summer day in Forest Hills trailer park. Far too hot to stay inside the stifling trailer, Steve was lying on an old beach towel in the shade, lazily watching Eddie and Dustin wrestle as though it wasn’t hot enough to fry an egg on concrete. Max sat near Steve, fiddling with her Walkman, and Robin and Nancy were both holding cold cans of Coke against the backs of their necks as they chattered about college.

Steve didn’t know it yet, but he was about to make, quite possibly, the biggest mistake of his life. Actually, scratch that, rewind - the biggest mistake barring anything before he stopped being an asshole.

A shriek from Dustin indicated that Eddie had decided to play dirty, and the giggles and protests that followed soon after told Steve that Eddie was inclined to absolutely wreck the brat, summer heat be damned. Steve smiled to himself as he secretly basked in the sound of Dustin acting like a normal kid.

“You’re smiling like a weirdo,” Max said, nudging Steve with her flip flop. “You’d better not be getting all sentimental over there, Harrington.”

“Why, Max Mayfield, are you promoting toxic masculinity?” Steve asked, running a hand through his damp hair and proud that he remembered the phrase from when Eddie explained it last week.

“Uh, no. I don’t like anyone getting emotional, not just men. I am all for everyone shutting the fuck up, all the time,” Max declared, and Steve cackled.

Eddie finally released Dustin with a ruffle to his hair, and the boy stumbled toward Steve, still sporting a wobbly smile. “Steve, Eddie’s being mean to me,” Dustin whined.

Eddie snorted, “Lies and slander! Libel! You just need to learn to respect your elders, my little sheep.”

Steve smiled, reaching out to poke Dustin’s side. “Seriously, Dust, your life is going to be sooo much easier once you grow out of that.”

Dustin’s brows furrowed. “Grow out of what?”

“Being ticklish,” Steve said, gesturing to Dustin like it should have been obvious.

From behind Dustin, Steve registered an unfamiliar look on Eddie’s face.

“What are you talking about, Steve?” Dustin looked at him like he had suggested Dustin try to grow wings and fly.

“I’m saying, once you grow out of being ticklish, Eddie will have to find another way to torture you,” Steve explained, throwing an arm over his eyes to signal it was the end of the conversation.

However, he could still hear the mischief in Eddie’s voice, sounding much closer than he had been a few moments ago, “Harrington…” he said, slowly, and the warning bells went off in Steve’s mind. He opened his eyes and pushed himself up on his elbows, finding a slow grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “Are you telling me you ‘grew out’ of being ticklish?”

“Uh, yeah? Didn’t everyone?” Steve looked around nervously. “It’s a kid thing. We all grow out of it eventually.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie said, still grinning. “And when was the last time someone tried to tickle you?”

Steve furrowed his brow, trying to figure out how that would be relevant. “I don’t know, dude, Tommy and I would play-fight in middle school, but probably not since then.”

Off to the side, Nancy and Robin had paused their conversation and were observing the scene before them, interested. Robin had a grin, not unsimilar to Eddie’s, creeping up on her face, while Nancy looked a little like a sad puppy, the way she often did when Steve brought up his childhood.

“Really? It’s been that long?” Nancy asked quietly.

“Yeah? But I really don’t see what that has to - oof!” The breath was knocked out of Steve as Eddie suddenly plopped down on top of him, knees on either side of Steve’s hips. “Eddie? What-“ Steve jackknifed up into an almost-sitting position when Eddie clawed at his tummy.

Three thoughts occurred to Steve simultaneously. First, he was very close to Eddie’s lips, and a large part of him would like to be even closer. Second, he might have missed the mark with the whole ‘I grew out of being ticklish,’ idea. Third, if the evil grin on Eddie’s face was any indication, Steve was absolutely fucked.

“Quite an interesting theory you’ve got there, Stevie,” Eddie drawled as he pushed Steve back down. “However, everyone knows that a good theory needs to be tested.”

Steve was so focused on how hot it was that Eddie had him pinned that he barely registered what Eddie was saying. Without any more preamble, Eddie darted both hands into Steve’s underarms and wiggled his fingers.

Steve’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “FUCK!” he exclaimed before collapsing into laughter. Holy shit, it felt like his nerves were crackling with electricity. This was far from Tommy’s quick pokes from middle school wrestling matches. This was so, so much worse.

“What is this?” Steve managed to ask between rounds of snickers.

Eddie snorted at how baffled Steve sounded, even through his laughter. “This, Stevie, is evidence that you were wrong.” Then, he wretched his hands out of Steve’s underarms and scribbled over his ribs and sides.

Steve laughed harder, squirming fruitlessly to try and escape Eddie’s fingers. “Oh my GOD,” he gasped out when Eddie found a spot in the middle of his ribcage that made him arch his back helplessly.

Eddie laughed along with him. “Want to rethink that hypothesis there, sweetheart?” One hand still at his ribs, Eddie reached up to flutter his fingers at Steve’s neck, which made him scrunch up his shoulders with a giggle and pull his bottom lip between his teeth.

Steve’s mouth shot open moments later with a shriek of, “Dustin!” before his cackling was redoubled. Eddie looked down and saw that Dustin had latched onto the muscle above Steve’s knee and was squeezing ruthlessly.

“Ooooo, did the shrimp find a bad spot?” Eddie teased, voice syrup-sweet. Steve shook his head back and forth, cheeks darkening.

“Fuck OFF,” Steve yelped, squirming harder now that he seemed to have remembered they weren’t alone.

“Still think you grew out of it?” Eddie taunted as he took the hint and gave one final scribble to Steve’s ribs before rolling to lay down beside him. Steve, still giggling, curled up on his side and hugged his knees to his chest. Dustin ruffled Steve’s hair, and Steve was too preoccupied with chasing away the last of the ghost tickles to dodge his hand.

Catching his breath, Steve gazed at Eddie. “Yeah, I might have missed the mark on that one,” he said seriously, before breaking into a grin. “Although,” he said, scrambling to straddle Eddie. “If I didn’t grow out of it… I would bet that you didn’t either, Munson.”

Eddie just smiled.

#squealing santa 2k22 #ss2k22 #fic submission #tickle fic #steddie tickle fic #stranger things tickle fic #tickling #steve's lonely childhood #stranger things #steddie #tfb community #ler!eddie munson #lee!steve #enjoy!

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rengokusflames · 11 months ago

Text

~Goofing around ~

Summary: While Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu stay to settle at the old lady’s place, they decide to go to sleep. But something more playful comes their way🪶

(I took a scene from a episode and changed it to make it a playful time lol)

Orange text=Zenitsu

Blue text= Inosuke

Green text=Tanjiro

All of them are laying down on the beds the sweet lady offered them. Tanjiro is in the middle so Inosuke and Zenitsu don’t fight, But Zenitsu and Inosuke can’t seem to get along still. Zenitsu is still annoyed with how Inosuke acted back at the creepy mansion where they found the older brother of the 2 younger kids.

“You sorry?…” He asked with a straight face.

“Not really.” He told him with a straight face making Zenitsu more annoyed.

“JUST APOLOGIZE!!” He yelled. His straight face was replaced with a angry look. “Forget it!” The 2 seemed to start arguing again.

“Hey! Be nice!” Tanjiro scolded both of them. He couldn’t understand why they can’t just make up and be friends.

“Look Inosuke…We just won’t eat with you if you act that way.”

“Huh?! How’s that related?!” Inosuke was confused by this.

“Because meals always taste better when you eat together y’know?…”

“Yea, he’s right!” He responded.

“Did the 2 of you hit your heads or something?” He asked with a werid look. Although Inosuke still was talking calm. Despite him being aggressive….He’s not really yelling! So far… “LIKE YOUR THE ONE TO TALK ABOUT THAT!!” Zenitsu yelled AGAIN. These 2 really started to annoy Tanjiro. He remembers how his little siblings would argue and whine a lot which drove Tanjiro crazy as a older brother. But now that he lost all his little siblings besides Nezuko. He missed them so so much…The poor boy has been through a lot and still manages to keep a smile on his face.

Tanjiro just chuckles. His annoyance now gone. “You guys are starting to remind me of my younger siblings who used to argue with each other a lot.” Boy…He should have never said that.

“Wait what?” He tilts his head. While Inosuke seems offended by this comment.

“EH?! WHATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN GONPACHIRO?! ARE YOU TRYING TO OFFEND US?” Inosuke sits up from his bed and looks at Tanjiro straight in the eyes giving him a angry glare.

“W-What? No no! It’s not like that! I just find it funny! That’s all! I wasn’t trying to offend you guys. And for the record…My name is Tanjiro not Gonpachiro!” He seems embarrassed about saying that, he never wanted to make his friends upset by this. He also wishes Inosuke would say his name correct for once lol.

“WHY ARE YOU GETTING OFFENDED SO EASILY?! Don’t worry, Tanjiro! I’m not offe-” Zenitsu is interrupted by Inosuke.

“HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT ME?! YOU KNOW WHAT U WERE SAYING! YOU SHALL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!” Inosuke yells at Tanjiro, still saying his name wrong. As he tries to tackle Tanjiro. Zenitsu tries stopping him by grabbing his arms.

“Hey hey! Enough Pighead! Leave him alone he didn’t want to offend you!”

“GET OFF ME! I NEED TO TEACH THIS IDIOT NOT TO MESS WITH ME!” Inosuke pushes Zenitsu off him pretty harshly that Zenitsu even yelps. But he doesn’t care. He glares at Tanjiro. “Inosuke! C-Calm down! I was just- AGH!” He is tackled by Inosuke. Zenitsu immediately screams.

“TANJIROOOOOO! NOOOOOO!! DONT HURT-…Huh?…” As he tries to defend Tanjiro he realizes something… Tanjiros Hands are pinned down by Inosuke, Inosuke uses his free hand to tickle Tanjiros neck and armpits. Inosuke….is tickling him?…Zenitsu just watches with a confused look and raised eyebrow while Tanjiro is dying of laughter.

“AHAHAHA! INOSUKE- HAHAHA PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAP!!! IM SORRY! AHAHAHAHAHA!” He laughed hysterically as Inosuke got his worst spots tickled.

“Oh your sorry? Well I’m not stopping! This is what you get. Mwahaha! Die, die, die!” Inosuke tickles very fast and this just makes poor Tanjiro laugh even more hysterically. His laugh is so adorable!

“ZENITSUUU! HELP! *snort* AHAHAHA! ME! HAHAHAHA” he cries out. Zenitsu thinks about it for a second…Before joining Inosuke and tickling Tanjiro too. He tickles his sides and stomach making him squeal.

“Sorry, Tanjiro…But I’m honestly REALLY enjoying your laugh!” He chuckled.

“That’s right! He’s on team Inosuke! We are gonna tickle the life out of you. HIYAAA!” He tickles Tanjiro EVEN faster! While Zenitsu focuses on tickling his sides and stomach. Tanjiro can’t even breath anymore due to how much it tickles! But…Thankfully…After 3 more minutes of tickles…They let him go. Poor Tanjiro is breathing heavily.

“You ok?” Zenitsu helps Tanjiro sit up.

“Yes…I just…am out of…breath…” He breathes heavily and chuckles with Zenitsu.

“We are still friends right?…” He asks worried.

“Of course! Of course! Don’t you worry. :D”

“HAH! Your pathetic! Can’t even handle a few tickling?!” Inosuke wiggles his fingers.

“Oh shut up! Leave him be!”

“I’m not talking to you, noisy!” He rolls his eyes. While Zenitsu suddenly has an idea.

“Hey Inosuke…Your not ticklish are you?! I know you aren’t pathetic.” Zenitsu gives him a playful smirk.

“Well, of course not!…Tsk…” He seems to be avoiding eye contact.

“Inosuke, why are you avoiding eye contact?!” He chuckles. Tanjiro seems to find Inosukes reaction funny. It’s clear he is lying.

“Be quiet, Monjiro! I’m just focusing on something else!” Inosuke seems to be having a tiny bit of blush on his face. Both Zenitsu and Tanjiro laugh at this.

“Sure buddy…Sure…” Zenitsu smirks more.

“Everyone is ticklish! There is no need to be embarrassed by it, Inosuke!” He chuckles some more and tries to reassure him.

“Shut up! Shut up! I’m not ticklish! I am not weak, hmph!” He makes a pouty face and looks the other way crossing his arms. Tanjiro giggles at his reaction while Zenitsu sneaks up behind him and starts to tickle his ribs. “H-HEY! HAHA WHAHAHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING, IDIOT? HAHA!!” He tries pulling away from Zenitsu. By trying to punch him and push him away but nothing is working.

“You are ticklish! I knew it! Tickle tickle tickle! Guess your not the big strong man you are huh?!” He moves to his armpits. Making Inosuke laugh EVEN harder. His laugh is werid….But at the same time goofy!

“YOU DUMB@SS!! AHAHAHA! I HATE YOU SOHOHO MUCH! GAHAHAHAHA! *snort* HAHAHA!!” Inosuke is now on the floor trying to fight Zenitsu off. And it seems to be working. Zenitsu quickly panics and tries yelling for Tanjiro.

“TANJIRO!! HELP ME DEFEAT HIM! I CANT DO IT BY MYSELF AHHHH!” He’s now pinned down by Inosuke.

“Sorry, Zenitsu…But since you helped Inosuke instead of helping me…Your on your own this time!” He gives a slight smirk.

“WHATTT?? TANJIRO PLEASEEE! I DONT WANNA SUFFER!” He whined.

“HAH! YOU HEARD HIM! YOUR SO DEAD!!” Inosuke tries to pin his arms down. But Zenitsu isn’t making it easy. He keeps wiggling and trying to kick him.

“OI! QUIT MOVING AROUND! OR IL DO THIS THE HARD WAY!” Inosuke threatened him. He was getting so mad that Zenitsu wouldn’t stop moving.

“Don’t worry! Il help you, Inosuke.” Tanjiro grabs Zenitsu arms and pins them down, While Inosuke managed to pin his legs down too.

“I’m still gonna do this the hard way! So you better be ready!”

“W-Wait! No please! I promise Il stop moving just don’t do it the hard way!” He really began to panic. He couldn’t wait for what Inosuke was about to do. Inosuke tries moving the clothes the old lady offered them to expose his bare belly only. When he saw Inosuke take a deep breath…He knew it was absolutely over for him.

“NO NO NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT! NOOO!” He yelled in panic.

“THIS IS FOR TRYING TO ATTACK ME, YOU LITTLE IDIOT!!” Before you know it. Inosuke faceplants into his stomach and starts to give him massive aggressive raspberries. Making Zenitsu Squeak like a mouse. While Tanjiro tickles under his chin and neck.

“PPPPPBBBBTBTBT! PBBBBBTBTBTFT! PBTBTBTBBBBBB! PBTBTBTBBBBFT! PBBBBBFT!” Inosuke blows more and more raspberries.

“AHAHAHAHA HAHAHA *squeal* IT TICKLES TOO MUCH- BAHAHAHA! TANJIRO! INOSUKE! STAHAHAP! Zenitsu was laughing so so much! He kinda sounded like a squeaky toy!

“Haha! This is what you get, Zenitsu! Your gonna have to survive this!” He chuckles as Inosuke still is giving him raspberries. Zenitsu kicks and squirms to be let free, but it’s no use. Inosuke seems to stop after the 10th raspberry. Letting Zenitsu catch his breath. But after a minute Inosuke starts tickling his belly button, making him laugh hysterically again.

“NOHOHOOOOO! I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE!! HAHAHA AHAHAHA!” He shakes his head and starts going crazy. Tanjiro just chuckled and continues tickling him. Moving to tickle behind the ears, Zenitsu is just dying at this point.

“Zenitsu, Your laugh is so contagious that it’s making me laugh aswell!” He chuckles.

“Il stop if you tell me I’m better then you!” Inosuke gives Zenitsu a big annoying smirk.

“NEVER! AHAHAHA! HAHA!!” He squealed.

“Then, you will suffer! Mwahaha!” The 2 of them continue to tickle him. Zenitsu starts running out of breath, so he has no choice but to surrender.

“OK OK! I ADMIT IT! YOU ARE STRONGER THEN ME! VERY STRONG HAHA!”

“That’s what i like to hear! Hah!” He gives Zenitsu a few pats on the stomach then let’s him go.

“Are you alright, Zenitsu?” He seems worried if he went too far with the tickling. Tanjiro gives Zenitsu a pat on the shoulder.

“I…Guess…” He sits up as he managed to catch his breath. Tanjiro then pulls them both close to him.

“Alright…To make sure you 2 are getting along now. Give each other a hug!” He smiles at them.

“WHAT?!”

“But what if he crushes me?!”

“Zenitsu…Inosuke…Cmon! If you guys hug and apologize to each other. Il make sure to reward you both with your favorite food!” Tanjiro gives them both a sweet smile trying to make them get along. Zenitsu managed to hug Inosuke first.

“*sigh* I’m…Sorry for fighting with you…” he mumbled annoyed but ATLEAST he apologized!

“It’s…Err…Fine! Whatever…Im S…or….ry” Inosuke said it annoyed too. He even had trouble saying the word, but he honestly just wanted the food. He started to squeeze him harder, but Zenitsu tried not to make a sound despite how tight the hug is now.

“Thank you both! I’m glad you apologized to each other! Now…I want you both to try not to argue so much, can you do that for me, please?”

“Fine…” Both of them said at the same time still with a annoyed tone. But Tanjiro ignored it and just smiled back at them.

#demon slayer #tickle monster Inosuke >:)#Demon slayer tickles #zenitsu agatsuma #inosuke hashibira #tanjiro kamado #the besties🫶🏽#playful tickles #besties being silly.

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whatisreggieshortfor · 1 year ago

Text

Rivalries Don’t Make Friends

AJ x MC

@perfectlysunny02 i finally did it.

(Before anyone says it- I know AJ plays field hockey. My bestie verified it for me- but I wanted to expand the available choices so she plays ice hockey here.)

AJ knew the trouble of falling for a member of the rival team.

It was not something you should do, a betrayal against the loyalty of your own team if the rivalry between the teams was strong enough.

But there’s a flaw in the design of things like rivalries.

They only work when you can see the other person’s face.

The team had convinced her to go out after a match, just a simple night at the pub after a match as they tossed back a few pints. AJ wasn’t a heavyweight when it came to drinking, but she knew her limits and danced right along them, even as she actually danced along the floor with her teammates. Tai had just finished spinning under his arm when she collided with another body clustered with friends, “Whoa- I’m so sorry!” AJ giggled sheepishly, Tai falling back with the team to watch the scene unfold, “I should know better than to get on the dance floor after a few pints. My feet never cooperate.”

The absolutely gorgeous babe in front her smirked, hands holding AJ’s arms from catching her in the stumble, “Didn’t think anything could knock away your stability- not with the way you move on the ice.”

AJ blinked, surprised even as more giggles escaped, “Are you a Manchester Thunder fan?” Something about the woman’s face was tickling a memory in her hazy mind, like she was familiar.

“You could say I’m more of a Liverpool Blaze fan, myself.”

AJ gasped, “Rooting for the enemy??”

The girl chuckled, shaking her head, “But I am a fan of yours, Jones.”

AJ felt her cheeks flush. Sure, she knew she had fans, but most were men who just liked the sport or the type of women you’d see body checking a stranger over some petty argument. She had never met a fan so… effervescent. So beautiful. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage.” AJ offered instead, watching as amusement danced in her gaze.

“Sunna.” The girl grinned, “My name is Sunna. How bout you let take you for a dance to make up for running into me?” Sunna winked, “I doubt the big man is your boyfriend, I’ve heard it’s bad luck to date within your team.” Hearing a snort, AJ could see one of the women from her group just behind her nudging the couple next to her. Ordinarily she’d wonder what that meant, why she nudged them when she mentioned dating teammates- but AJ was distracted. Sunna’s hands were warm on hers, and the shimmering colors in her hazel eyes had AJ’s tipsy mind locked in a trance. So she let herself be led into a dance, “Yeah, there’s a couple on my team that actually split, but Levi and Lucy are too competitive to let it stop them,” she offered offhandedly, spinning and twirling and holding Sunna as the hours creeped on, before suddenly Tai was making his way over.

“AJ, we’re glad you’re having a good time and all, but Gary is itching to get home before he hurls up his pints and we got practice tomorrow.”

The blonde felt a wave of disappointment, but Sunna gave her a smile, “I hope you’ll let me get your number first. I go back without it, Angie and Miles will never stop prattling on about it.”

So that night, AJ left with her number, and a date on the books. Levi and Lucy wouldn’t stop teasing her about it, jokingly poking fun at how much she would blush any time a text came in. And their teasing got worse as the days went on and more dates were ticked off. A drink, a dinner, a movie, eventually they scheduled for date number five after AJ’s next game. She couldn’t wait, no relationship had ever felt so right. Sunna understood her passion, mirrored her energy- she didn’t believe in soulmates, but if they existed then Sunna was hers.

Sunna had never cared for rivalries, none of her teammates did. Sure, they played their hardest in every game because they could get competitive, but the idea of one specific team being their target to beat in a season never made sense. She had a regularly ongoing competition with Oliver and Talia at practice, they took shots at her goal and she had to block. If they made the shot more times than she saved the block then she had to buy them a pint, and if she blocked more than they made they had to buy one for her. Angie and Jake would laugh at them as they practiced themselves. The other players would often complain to Tom, but even as the owner of the team he let them do as they pleased no matter how much it agitated their coach, Graham didn’t appreciate it but he could admit they were efficient when the time came. But Liverpool Blaze wasn’t known for being just efficient. They were ruthless on the ice. During games it was like they were different people. On the ice none of them batted an eye at bloodshed, their enforcers were brutal and their defense was impossible to get passed. Off the ice Jake was sweet and off writing bad poetry or making sure the team ate well, Oliver could often be found playing with his cat or looking at books from his grandmother in Malaysian culture. Talia was pulling pranks that no one could avoid being the target of, Angie would be making snarky comments and helping Talia. Sunna was never what someone expected when her uniform came off- gone was the laser focus that never let anything stray by her, no grace as she moved. Her teammates called her a bubbly fountain of terrible humor, much like her brother Bruno.

But as much as they gave their all, rivalries weren’t an interest. They played because they loved the sport, winning was a bonus. Every member of the team and staff knew that-

Which is why Tom looking as anxious as he did at the locker room as they dressed was out of the ordinary.

Sunna nodded her head to him, dropping the braid she’d been securing and raising an eyebrow as her teammates all watched curiously, “What’s going on, Tommy boy?”

“Nothing.” He said quickly, far too quickly for it to be the truth.

Sunna scoffed a laugh, crossing her arms as she eyed him critically, “You look like you did that time you strapped on skates and Jakey checked you into the glass.”

Tom’s already pale face lost even more color at the mention, hand instinctively shooting up to rub at the shoulder that had taken the brunt of that impact, “Just a… friendly wager. With the owner of the Manchester Thunder.”

“Hamish?” Talia cackled, “You hate that guy! You always say- what is it?”

“That he’s the you that grew up with freedom?” Angie offered, Talia snapping her fingers at the phrase.

Tom gaped, sputtering in response, “I don’t hate him! He’s just rather- he can be chaotic!”

“Weird to bet on the championship,” Oliver offered with a wry grin, “That’s the biggest choking day for players.” Tom squeaked in response.

“What did you bet him exactly?” Jake questioned curiously.

“That we’d be the winner, obviously.”

“Okay…” Oliver nodded, “But what did you actually bet him?”

Tom sighed, adjusting his neck tie- the same tie he wore to every game, “He bet his watch against my tie.”

Sunna snorted, not caring to cover her face as she laughed, “I’m sorry- that watch that you said cost more than my flat? Against your tie? Why your tie?”

“It’s my lucky tie.” He pouted, staring at the monstrosity of color. It had been paired with his actual present as a joke gift- chosen by his players during the holidays one season, Sunna was actually the one that presented the gift to him. It was a mesh of plaid and swirls, nearly every color in the rainbow crammed into it, and it matched almost nothing he wore- but Tom had always cared for it more than anything else he wore, because they had taken the time to get it for him.

Sunna sighed, a smile playing at her lips, “Suppose we need to win then. Gotta save your special tie, don’t we?”

The rest of the team laughed to themselves as they moved about dressing into their pads and jerseys, putting on their gloves and helmets. Tom may have been an odd man to decide to buy an ice hockey team after the life he grew up with, but they were endeared with him all the same.

It didn’t occur to Sunna until her skates hit the ice, face guard firmly in place and helmet strapped and tightened, she was damn near at her place on the goal line before she realized whose team Hamish owned.

Angie howled with laughter when Talia looked Sunna’s way before the ref dropped the puck, “You better not go easy just because your little crush, Kaminski!”

Sunna smirked, whipping her glove off long enough to flip her the bird before the game commenced.

And both teams gave the entire match their all, the only opponents in the league that could keep up with each other. Angie would score, and then a player would manage to slip the puck past Sunna, until the final seconds sat on the clock. Talia had gotten Liverpool up by one as the last ten seconds slowly ticked down, and Sunna recognized the player racing her way.

The words left her lips, puck knocked safely away just as the buzzer rang out, “Thought you had a slicker slap shot than that, Jones.” AJ’s head snapped over as the crowd screamed, Sunna pulling her helmet off to let her braid fall over her shoulder. She was trying to joke, engage in the banter she had grown accustomed to on their dates, but the blonde’s face clouded in anger.

“What?? You’re that Kaminski!?”

Sunna blinked, unaware of the tension that was clearly piled up on AJ’s shoulder, “Uh, well, yeah- is it that important?”

“Is it-“ The cheering crowd could almost overpower her shouting voice if they hadn’t still been so close, AJ’s face was red with rage, “You don’t think it’s important to know you play against me?? Have you just been dating me to get tips to use against us!?”

Sunna’s teammates had been cheering, heading her way to celebrate when they caught wind of AJ’s angry yells. The brunette girl reached out, some mix of confusion and regret in her face, but the blonde slapped her hands away, “AJ-“

“No!” She snapped, “Dating rivals is the forbidden rule! Right up there with a teammate’s ex!” She sped away off the ice before Sunna could respond.

Angie raced over with Jake, but Sunna just shook her head, giving them a glassy eyed smile, “Guess we saved Tommy’s tie, huh?”

“Sun,” Jake started, but she shrugged him off.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” she laughed with no humor, “Rivalries- they always gotta ruin the great love stories, huh?”

AJ felt like an idiot for not connecting the dots sooner- of course it had to be that Kaminski, what were the chances there was another that understood the intricacies of the sport she’d loved for so long? Levi and Lucy wouldn’t stop giving her shit, making practices in the following days feel like they dragging on even longer. Hamish had always joked with their coach that AJ needed to burn off extra energy, even after practice, but now she just felt tired. Tai was growing more and more worried about her, and Gary was starting to pick it up, too. She didn’t have any excuses to tell them to stop their worry, because truth was she knew it was her fault. Rivalries are supposed to go two ways, but Liverpool had never cared. When the teams would have their tit for tat prank wars, the Blaze only ever responded. They never instigated.

When she had joined the team the feud was at a full blown scale, and she could remember how excited Hamish got when Liverpool was bought by Tom- only to be let down when he made trades. Tom let go of veteran players in Liverpool to trade and draft, until the team was the unstoppable force on the ice they are now. Sunna and Angie and Talia and Jake and Oliver were all recruits he had brought the team. But the new team didn’t care to keep it going, no matter what Manchester did.

So why did AJ let it be such a big deal to her?

Why did Manchester care so much more about this imaginary feud than Liverpool did?

The simple answer was that she didn’t know.

The complicated one involved the mistake she had clearly made.

AJ spent hours, memorizing every piece of information about every member of Sunna’s team. She had never looked into them before, only ever catching their faces on fan posters and things, so she hadn’t made the connection until Sunna had pulled her helmet off at the game. But now the more she learned, the more she realized how wrong she had been. Oliver worked with nursing homes on his time off- Jake offered free meals to the homeless. Angie was a volunteer paramedic with the fire department- Talia wrote music reviews for bands that were just trying to get their start, helping a lot of them get their big break with her name attached to praise about their demos.

And don’t even get AJ started on Sunna. Animal shelters, soup kitchens with Jake, running grief support groups, a professional stand up comedian for a brother. She couldn’t find a single thing she didn’t like.

And she had fucked it up.

Stumbling upon the team at another pub hadn’t been in her plan, but she couldn’t have raced to the table any faster without mowing people down.

But Angie cut in as soon as she opened her mouth, “Sorry, mate. This table is reserved for Liverpool Blaze players, ya know, since you need to be told specifically.”

Ouch, but she deserved that. The one she recognized as Talia shot up from where she’d been making heart eyes at Oliver, eyes narrowing with a blaze when she recognized her, “Oh, the damage in the rink wasn’t enough?”

“Come on, guys,” Oliver intervened, “You know Sunna wouldn’t want you giving her grief over it.”

“Just because Sunna is a pushover when she cares about someone doesn’t mean we are.” Angie shot back.

Oliver putting up his hands in surrender before he looked at AJ, “She’s not here. Probably with Jake again.”

AJ felt her mind swirl with what that could mean, knowing that any of the possibilities were her own fault, “Has she… has she talked about me? At all?”

“Ha,” Talia scoffed, “Wouldn’t shut up about you before. Now she barely says a word. Only Bruno and Jake can get her mouth moving.”

Again, the possibilities swirled at the word choice, but AJ had focus, “I- I need to talk to her. I wanted to apologize- I can’t mess this up again.”

Angie glared at her, “We’ll pass along the message.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, understanding of their anger but annoyed they were ignoring Sunna’s wishes to be civil, “You don’t even have a clue, do you?”

“A-about what?” AJ felt a deep pang of worry that he was about to confirm her worst scenario thoughts.

But he just shook his head with a sigh, “The way she would look at you. I mean, even just a picture of you. She’ll prang on about how moony Talia and I get- but when she looks at you… did you ever feel the way she did?”

AJ wanted to cry.

She had always thought her dates were the problem, that they were the reason a second date never happened. But Sunna had unlocked something of her that she threw away.

Her dates weren’t the problem. She was.

Racing through stoplights, AJ sped to Sunna’s flat- remembering it from their dinner date. Fist slamming into the wood, she was absolutely not prepared for a shirtless man to answer.

“Oh, hello, AJ.”

She blinked, eyes readjusting and focusing on his face. Jake. She felt her shoulders slump, “Hi, uh, sorry for interrupting your date. I’ll just-“

“Date?” He quirked a brow, confusion painting on his face in heavy strokes as he pulled on the shirt he held in his hands that didn’t quite fit him right, “My girlfriend is at temple, what do you-“ His eyes widened, recognition finally flitted through his irises, “Oh! Oh, you want to speak to Sunna? Uh, come in, come in.”

Jake grabbed her hand, pulling her over the threshold before she could stop him, and another male voice caught her attention immediately, “Sunny, mate, these are my best jokes. Something’s gotta make you laugh eventually.”

“Not really,” Sunna’s voice drifted over from the living room, “I’m sorry. I know you guys are trying, I’m just…”

“Bummed? Heartbroken? Too lost in love to cheer up even though your hilarious brother came all the way here?”

“You literally live down the hall, you prat.”

“Semantics.”

“You should shut up. Running your mouth already distracted you enough to spill oil on Jake’s shirt.”

Jake cleared his throat, watching their heads swivel his direction before their eyes landed on AJ, “Sunna has a visitor.”

Bruno narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent as the blonde tentatively waved, “Hi… I wanted to say sorry. I never should’ve blown up on you like that. I spent… a lot of time on our dates talking up the rivalry- why would you want to tell me after that? I didn’t make it easy for you- and- and I don’t actually care, ya know? I don’t care what team you play for because you still play and you love it and you understand why I love it and-“

Sunna clamped a hand over AJ’s mouth, the blonde had been rapidly talking and hadn’t even noticed her approach, but Sunna kept her hand in place, “I’m going to let go, and I need you to tell me the broiler plate reason of why you’re here, okay? I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

Slowly and gently, Sunna peeled her hand from her face, and as soon as it was cleared AJ spoke again, “I want you to give me another chance.” Sunna’s hand finally dropped all the way to her side, vaguely aware that her best mate was forcing her brother out into the hall as her mouth fell open and hope sparkled in her eyes. AJ took hold of her hands, “Please. Give me another chance, I promise I won’t mess this up again.”…”I promise I’ll try not to mess this up again.”

Sunna laughed, how could it have only been a week since AJ heard that sound and yet it still felt like she was coming home to hear it now? “Another chance, then.”

(A few months later, at the banquet to start the following season, AJ and Sunna arrived together. And by the end of the night, Hamish had finally agreed to trade Levi and Lucy away to Jasper- the bottom team in the league- after Lucy had targeted Sunna for ‘accidental collisions’ throughout the night after Levi had tried flirting with her. AJ couldn’t figure out why Lucy was annoyed, Sunna wasn’t her girlfriend, but at least they’d be gone.)

Masterlist

#litg #litg AJ #litg angie #litg jake #litg oliver #litg talia #litg tai #litg levi #litg lucy #litg gary #litg bruno #litg AJ x mc #no villa au #rivals to lovers #rivals #ice hockey au

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cheetahsprints · 10 months ago

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Prompt #12: Pain

Inspired by this post

• Sonadow Prompt Fills •

• Ambience Music •

Shadow blinked and evaluated the scene in front of him. Sonic had arranged himself somewhere beneath a rainbow fort of blankets and pillows. It was a carefully crafted and truly awe-inspiring work of art. Shadow was surprised at his own powerful urge to bury himself in the nest.

A weak groan came from the pile when Shadow called his name.

“What are you doing?”

“Dying.”

“I hardly think so. When you’re acting like a big baby, I know it’s not serious.” Shadow added, “Otherwise you’d be pretending everything is normal.”

Shadow ducked under the blankets and wriggled around until he found his prize. He snuggled close, showing a side of him no one else was allowed to witness. He rested his muzzle on Sonic’s shoulder. Sonic barely reacted, rather he laid there like a limp doll.

“‘M glad you’re here, even though you’re a bastard,” Sonic said, Shadow’s superior hearing picking it up though it was muffled into a pillow. For a little while, Shadow just cuddled with him and groomed parts of his fur and quills that were sticking out at weird angles with his tongue.

Eventually, he inquired, “What is actually the matter with you?”

“Fucking cramps,” Sonic grunted.

“Hm… I thought the hormone replacement stopped that shit?”

Sonic lifted his head slightly. “Ugh, not always. I still get light bleeds, sometimes. I don’t know why the pain and fatigue is so bad. Pain meds go through me too quickly. Tails looked into tweaking the hormones, but there’s been no result yet, it might be beyond him.”

Shadow rubbed circles in his back once Sonic dropped back down. “You’ll get through it.”

“Mmmrgh. Lubyou.”

“Love you too. I’ll be right back.”

Shadow prepared a hot bath and carried Sonic to the bathroom when it was ready. He settled Sonic on his lap and gave him massages on his shoulders, thighs, and abdomen. Sonic mostly kept his eyes shut and his muzzle partially resting on Shadow’s chest. He was unusually quiet, but that was to be expected. Despite what he went through in battles, often walking it off like it was nothing, Sonic had a low pain tolerance.

He fell asleep.

Shadow was careful not to jostle him as he patted him dry and took him back to his fort. When he woke several hours later, Shadow prepared tea, eggs, pancakes, and bacon for dinner, which he brought to him in bed.

On a tablet, they started watching some sitcom. It wasn’t long until Sonic’s attention span had him jumping through a few other shows before they landed on a colorful cartoon he was sure Sonic had watched about fifty times before, minimum.

Shadow vastly preferred thrilling anime, but he made no complaint. Throughout, only watching light-hearted garbage (in Shadow’s opinion), he’d giggle into Shadow’s fur at the given show or at Shadow’s wry commentary, a sign that he was feeling better.

“I know I’m a pain in the ass,” Sonic remarked out of nowhere and at the same time threw himself across Shadow’s lap. Shadow playfully dug his fingers into Sonic’s ribs. Sonic squirmed and laughed.

“You’re my pain, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, my threshold is incredibly high, you know that. If anything, you tickle me internally.”

“Tickle, huh?”

At that, Sonic attacked his feet. Shadow couldn’t help wheezing as he kicked at Sonic. Shadow escaped the onslaught gasping for breath and repeatedly hit Sonic with a pillow, which snagged on his quills and spilled feathers everywhere.

Sonic snorted and fell onto Shadow. As much as it had been irritating at first being hopelessly, madly, deeply in love, he’d go through any amount of agony if at the end Sonic was waiting to hold him in return.

Sonic was often there for him after night terrors and flashbacks had plagued him, and he’d comfort Shadow through the tears without an unkind word. Shadow would always do the same.

#sonadow #prompts #established sonadow #caretaking #tickling #this is pretty self-indulgent ngl

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yunalai · 2 years ago

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MOBILE DATING GAME .

ROUTE START : “You might as well make yourself useful and fan me.”

ROUTE SWITCH : “Hmph. You were unworthy of my presence anyhow.”

ROUTE SWITCH (high affection) : "I will be sure you regret this.”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE A : “Can you not see I’m busy?”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE B : “Fine. You have my attention. Do not make me regret giving it away so hastily.”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE ( REPEATEDLY ) : ( if below HALF ♥ ) ”Do not touch me.” ( if above HALF ♥ but below MAX ♥ ) “If you wish to keep that finger, I’d suggest you stop.” ( if at MAX ♥ ) [snort] “Hey, quit it, that tickles—”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE MAX ♥ : “I have spent many nights alone in the library. Rereading every document. Figuring out other languages. It was tiring, but peaceful, because I was alone. Or so I thought. It became something I look forward to even more since you joined.”

COMPLETED SCENE , + ♥ : “That... was surprisingly fun. Oh, do not get smug on me.”

COMPLETED SCENE , - ♥ : "Ugh. What a waste of time you are proving to be.”

GIFT ( NEUTRAL ) : “...Tsk, you should be focusing on your duties rather than being a fawner.”

GIFT ( DISLIKED ) : “No. Take it away.”

GIFT ( LIKED ) : “This is— Why are you..? ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ.”

GIFT ( THEIR BIRTHDAY ) : “It has been a— a long time, since anyone remembered.”

BIRTHDAY : ( will not say acknowledge the player's birthday if MIN ♥ ) ( if above HALF ♥ but below MAX ♥ ) “Days like these are overrated, but if my company makes you happy... fine, you may have it.” ( if MAX ♥ ) “No, leave your tasks. I am taking you somewhere. I don’t want to hear refusal, just— come with me.”

ROUTE START : “Oh great, a fan. You ain’t gonna be one of those stalkers, right?”

ROUTE SWITCH : “Plenty of other fish in the sea. Loser.”

ROUTE SWITCH (high affection) : "You can’t just leave me.”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE A : “Yeahyeah, whatcha want?”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE B : “Ya see, people test if I bite more often than they should. Try pokin’ me again, see what happens.”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE ( REPEATEDLY ) : ( if below HALF ♥ ) ”Yeah, fuck you. SECURITY!” ( if above HALF ♥ but below MAX ♥ ) “You wanna know where you could shove that finger?” ( if at MAX ♥ ) “Imma bite ya. You’re gonna like it so it really ain’t much of a threat, is it?”

MENU INTERFACE , POKE MAX ♥ : “Hey, ya gonna be at the next concert, right? Whaddya mean you don’t have tick— Shut up. Like I wouldn’t get you tickets. Idiot.”

COMPLETED SCENE , + ♥ : “Hey, you ain’t so bad after all.”

COMPLETED SCENE , - ♥ : "Yeah, Imma go ahead and pretend this never happened.”

GIFT ( NEUTRAL ) : “That looks cheap. Thanks, I guess?”

GIFT ( DISLIKED ) : “Ew. No, thanks.”

GIFT ( LIKED ) : “You really know what a gal likes, don’t cha?”

GIFT ( THEIR BIRTHDAY ) : “Awn, babe. I was expecting you inside a cake, but this will do. Wanna get out of this party?”

BIRTHDAY : ( will not say acknowledge the player's birthday if MIN ♥ ) ( if above HALF ♥ but below MAX ♥ ) “I thought you were older. Don’t look at me like that, maybe invest in skincare before you become ash. Ungrateful ass.” ( if MAX ♥ ) “There’s a private party at my place tonight and only you are invited. Or you can stay here with these dorks. Whatcha say, love?”

#i don't mean to sound arrogant but i'm extremely good (dash games)#(( I saw mars and venom do it and i've wanted to do it for weeks so here it is ))#(( do not get her bad ends trust me you don't want the bad ends (or maybe youre a freak and u want em) ))#⍙ — [ about ]

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randomtwordbloog · 1 year ago

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I started playing OneShot yesterday and started the Solstice route today. This takes place during Niko and TWM’s chat. Just had to clear that up. Now on with the cute!

[Ler: Cedric Lee: Proto]

Awww, that laugh’s so CUTE on you!

“I love you brother!” Cedric said to Proto, hugging him over his sides. [What are you do-!] The latter was suddenly cracking up, and he wasn’t even doing anything yet! However, he was a bit squirmy, so he had to fix that little problem. “Hey, what’s that over there?!” He yelled, letting go of Proto for a split second. [There’s nothing here. Are you trying to make a fool out of-] He was cut off by Cedric pinning him to the floor. “Haha! You always fall for that old trick.” Cedric pointed out teasingly. [DON’T MEHEHEHEHEHENTION THAT! ITS EMBARRASSING!] “Awwwww~! That laugh sounds so CUTE on you!” [I AM NAHAHAHAHAT CUTE!] Suddenly, Cedric accidentally lightly touched his side in the middle of his assault on his stomach, and when he did, a strange sound came out of him. “What was THAT?! Was that a SNORT? Let’s see if I can get you to make THAT noise again, just to be sure what that actually waas~.” [NONONONONO! THAT WASN’T WHAT YOU THINK IT WAS! Well, uh, joke’s on you, I’m not even ticklish there!] He said OUT LOUD, clearly lying just to cover up how sensitive he was there. See, truth is, if you just BARELY touch one of his tickle spots, he’s gonna let out either A. a scream and jump back a foot, or B. a snort, and start cracking up and before ya know it, he’s a giggling puddle on the floor. A fact Cedric knew well, and often took advantage of. However, he’d never seen the latter of those before. “Oh, reeeally~? Well then why do you laugh so much when I tickle you there~?” Oh [player name]. Not the teasing. Ya see, he could barely even SAY the t-word, nonetheless listen to people saying it. If you and him were watching a movie/show and there was a tickle scene, he’d make up an excuse to get up. A few notable examples being; “Well, I’m tired. *fake yawn* I think I’m gonna go to bed.” Another being that he’s hungry, (which makes no sense), etc. [DON’T SAY THAT WORD!] “Which one? You’re gonna have to be more specific.” [THIRD TO LAHAHAHAHAST!] “Oh, you mean tickle? I don’t see anything wrong with that!” [I DON’T LIHIHIHIHIKE IT!] “Oh, but why~? It’s actually quite a funny word!” Once he said that, he put his face down where his ears are supposed to be, and in a whisper he said: “Tickle tickle tickle broo~!” That was the last straw. Without hesitation, he just went absolutely INSANE with laughter. [AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOPSTOPSTOPSTAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASE!]The fact Cedric was sitting on his hips wasn’t making it any better, either. The only moving he could do was kick his feet and flail his arms, struggling and failing to push him off. Cedric was always the stronger of the two, so it wasn’t that strange. Rue looked on at the two, and she smiled. [AAAAAAH! NONONONONONO!!] Cedric stopped everything for a moment, but then scooted back so he was sitting on his knees now. [WAWAWAWAWAIT. WHY CAN’T I MOVE MY LEGS?!] “Simple. I’m on them, silly! I feel like you should know that by now.” While he said that, he sloooooowly turned around to where he was comfortably seated to where Proto couldn’t even see his face. “Oh, silly me! I had a perfectly good spot right in front of me, and I didn’t even notice! I’d assume that these are sensitive too, am I correct in assuming that?”

Oh stars. Not that. He HATED when he was asked a question on whether or not he was sensitive somewhere. ESPECIALLY not there. [And why should I tell YOU?! It’s not like I’m more ticklish there than anywhere else on me!] Did he really just fall for that?! That was the oldest trick in the book! Heck, even The Author used that against him whenever they were in a one-sided tickle fight! “Ooh~! Interesting….” He couldn’t see the look on Cedric’s face, but if he could it’d probably be a devious one. But then…! [EEK!] Cedric, that absolute JERK! He lightly scratched ALL 10 of his nails down his soles, and slowly at that. Once he started going a little quicker though, that’s when he started going ABSOLUTELY CRAAAAAZY. [NOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!] “Oh, alright.” He turned around again, and slowed it down to just light spine tickles on his back, calming him down in the process. [Thanks, bro.]

I bullied him this time, but he deserved it for giving Niko an existential crisis on whether he’s real or not. I can’t COUNT the amount of times I squealed writing this ISTG. I’ll make an HC post eventually. Baiiii!

#oneshot (game)#tickle fluff

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burningtacozombie · 1 year ago

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“She seems it, and I am in no fucking mood to deal with that tonight,” Emma stated, Lee softly applauding. Guero looked entertained by that statement, his grin wide. “Spicy boo got all the heat tonight!” “I fucking have, and she can have it if she tries me.”

that's right baby girl, he's your man and you gotta defend your territory. bet Guero would love to see you put that chick on her ass.

"Bro, if this kicks off any further, will you go grab my girl?" he muttered to Bottles. Tearing his eyes from the scene, he adjusted his glasses, frowning slightly. "Yeah, but why can't you?" Guero shook his head, the corners of his mouth upturning. "Can't even walk right now. My dick is too hard. Damn, that's hot." Bottles snorted, almost spraying his beer, Angel leaning in. "No disrespect, dog, but yeah. Mine too."

OH MY GOD LMFAO!! :D :D :D this is not what I meant but fucking hell, she sure defended her territory omg. babe, your girl's on fire :D but he, who can blame that other chick, have you looked at yourself? who wouldn't want a piece of you? hope she learned the lesson not to mess with taken men tho

“Damn, baby,” he panted, pulling at his belt buckle, running the tip of his tongue up her neck. “You’re gonna get railed so fucking hard.” [...] He chuckled, kissing her hotly. “You did say split you in two, my spicy lil’ boo.” She walked as if she had been as well, Guero laughing to himself as they walked back to continue with the debauchery.

she did say that, and he did what she asked :D man, Guero does love being fought for :D and in all honesty, he deserves a girl who would do that for him. I'm so glad these two found each other <3

“Look, it’s hard for me, being a person with a real fucking bad temper and thinking your reaction was justified, but I get that you aren’t so cool with it,” he began, shrugging a little. “I might not be the best person to advise you, bearing that in mind. I dunno, I’d say maybe in future if you feel yourself getting to that point then dial it back, but again, I don’t have the best track record at doing the same.” He paused, moving forward further, resting his chin to her shoulder. “How you acted in one moment isn’t defining of who you are, though. Cuz’ you ain’t him, baby.”

Guero is right, you know. one moment doesn't define your entire self. and what you did is learned behaviour. you've seen it, you grew up with it, you didn't know anything else so if you're in a similar situation, you go back to what you know regardless of how you came to know it. you cannot draw from something you've never known but what you can do is recognize such behavior, learn different ways to handle situations and do better next time. it's not your fault.

Just then, the clubhouse door opened, revealing a girl with long, bright blue hair and a shaved side, tickling Bottles on the neck with her fingernails, turning to wink at Emma before she sauntered away, swinging her hips seductively. He pointed with a grin. “Woke up between the pool table and her.”

good for you, prospect. everyone deserves a little lovin' :D

“Or you just get somebody with the right set of skills to hack into the hotel’s booking system, and there you have your room number,” Bottles chirped, his face brightening more by the second. “I am that person, in case you two are too hungover for nuance.”

oh look at that, prospect trying to earn his patch early!

Ten months ago, she’d escaped the clutch of the mafia, and now there she was, putting herself right back within their proximity. She just had to hope that the many tentacles of the hydra did not notice her presence, especially not the biggest of them all.

oh fuck, shit's about to get serious. I just hope everything goes according to plan, which it probably won't because that would be too easy, but everyone better be at least making it out of that hotel unharmed...

Lost & Found - Chapter Eighteen.

A huge thank you to everyone for being such a lovely audience :) I appreciate you more than you know.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen

Words - 3,898

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you more with EZ. It’s a shitty position to be in, though, caught between my girl and my club. Especially the fucking president of the club, a guy I have a lotta respect for. I’m not good with it, though, the fact he scared you.”

Pausing, Guero leaned to her, kissing the side of her neck. “Saying that, though, despite the fact I knew you were scared, you fucking stood your ground. Baby got spicy! Made me real proud.”

“What can I say?” she mused, her eyebrows rising. “I’d had a couple a’ five beers by the time you guys arrived back. Had a little courage bolstering my spice. He came and apologised though, so we’re good.” Her eyes then found an annoyance that had been bothering her for the past hour, lifting her chin. “That over there in the leather shorts, I’m not so good with.”

Guero followed her line of vision, receiving a wave and a smile he only acknowledged with a slight nod. “Yeah, that’s Lauryn. She hasn’t been around much, guessed she came with one of the guys from another charter. She um, she tends to get around.”

Her mouth tightened a fraction, cocking her head a little. “And has she ever gotten around you?”

He shook his head. “Nope, she don’t do it for me.” Sliding his finger along the dip in her dress, he hooked it, pulling her close. “You’re the one who does it for me.” He kissed her with heat, his hands sliding down to grasp her butt, Emma hoping that his display of affection made Lauryn get the message.

She wasn’t the jealous type, and she knew he’d been with plenty of the bike bunnies who hung around the club. She’d asked and he’d told her. For the most part, as soon as those girls saw the guys become committed to one woman, they backed off. Lauryn wasn’t one of them.

“Yup,” Lee burped into her hand, pointing over to where the girl stood with her back to them a short time later. “She made a play for Obispo one time. Fuckin’ cracked her with a pool cue for it. Ain’t got no shame, that one. If she wants a specific dick, doesn’t fuckin’ matter to her if that dick is occupied, she’ll sniff around to see if there’s a chance of swiping it. I don’t do slut shaming, go get your fill is what I say, but not with another woman’s man. That’s low-down behaviour, sick shit, messed up, man.”

Lauryn then turned, lifting her chin. “Yeah, I’m talking about your trashy ass, homegirl!” Draping an arm around Emma’s shoulders, she fixed her with a look of defiance, the girl turning back to whoever she was talking to. “Absolute fuckin’ shit show.”

“She seems it, and I am in no fucking mood to deal with that tonight,” Emma stated, Lee softly applauding.

Guero looked entertained by that statement, his grin wide. “Spicy boo got all the heat tonight!”

“I fucking have, and she can have it if she tries me.”

“Yes, sugar! If she continues making eyes at your guy, you need to get over there and set her straight!” Lee roared, hiccupping.

“Oh god,” a nearby Angel sighed, shaking his head as he walked over. “Tiger is out of the damned cage. First you give my brother a face full of knuckles, and now you’re yelling at everyone.”

“Not everyone, just her,” Lee chirped, bolting back more of her drink.

“Bish is gonna gag you before the night is out.”

Lee grinned widely, giving him a little soft poke in the chest. “Don’t you threaten me with a good time!”

His head shaking continued, wrapping an arm around her. “Nothin’ but fucking trouble when you’re drunk.” As it happened, it wasn’t Lee’s actions that would lead to trouble that night, the girls heading back inside with a few of the guys to congregate at the bar, Emma going to use the bathroom. When she came back out, it was to a sight that displeased the hell out of her.

“Told you, I ain’t interested,” she could just about hear Guero state over the roar of Ace of Spades by Motorhead, Lauryn attempted to drape herself around him. He then looked up, catching her eye, stepping back and nodding in her direction as he took as seat at the bar again. “My girl is right there, you need to fucking quit.”

Her jaw tightened, eyeing her with the kind of venom that she might not have had if she hadn’t been ten beers in. Unfortunately for Lauryn, though, she was, and her give a fuck meter was as unflinching as her anger.

“Oh, man,” Angel spoke, turning to his side to witness her death glare, cringing slightly. “You gonna give us all a hair pulling chick fight? C’mon, it’ll be awesome!”

Reaching behind him, she yanked the knife from his belt before he could stop her. “I’ll fucking give you more than that.” Storming around the bar, Lauryn’s look of defiance was met with a hand to her throat, Emma driving her across the space, men all around turning to look as the object of her rage was pinned against the side of the door.

“Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, Emma taking the knife and slamming it straight into the wood, an inch from the side of her head. The look of fear that flooded Lauryn’s face was instant.

"Oh, oh did that scare you?" She exclaimed, sarcasm dripping, yanking the knife from the wood and pressing it against her throat. "Yeah, I'm not what you thought I was, am I?"

While Lauryn was being held against the side of the doorframe, almost every single pair of eyes within the club watched it happen, Guero sitting there stunned. Well, stunned and...

"Bro, if this kicks off any further, will you go grab my girl?" he muttered to Bottles.

Tearing his eyes from the scene, he adjusted his glasses, frowning slightly. "Yeah, but why can't you?"

Guero shook his head, the corners of his mouth upturning. "Can't even walk right now. My dick is too hard. Damn, that's hot."

Bottles snorted, almost spraying his beer, Angel leaning in. "No disrespect, dog, but yeah. Mine too."

While the guys had their quiet moment of exalting how arousing the sight of an angered woman was, the angered woman in question continued making sure her feelings were heard.

"Listen to me, if you fucking wave your pussy anywhere near my guy again, I swear I will cut that shitty tattoo right off your face. Am I making myself clear, puttana?"

Lauryn nodded, eyes wide, feeling embarrassment rise in her throat. Still, she swallowed hard and lifted her chin, at least attempting not to look as frightened as she felt at having a sharp knife held to her throat. "Yeah, you are."

Smirking, Emma lowered the blade. "Good, now get the fuck out of here." Giving her a last, disapproving sweep with her eyes, she finally released the hard grasp that had held her throat, Lauryn gasping as she was let go, moving from the clubhouse rapidly.

Walking back to Guero, his eyes still like saucers, she handed an equally stunned Angel his knife back. “Thank you, buddy.” She then picked up a shot of tequila and sank it, her eyes flitting between the guys, all stupefied by her display of mettle. “What?”

“You!” Bottles laughed, reaching to nudge her arm friendlily with a fist. “You and your bad-assery, gone fried up your man’s brain. Look at him! He’s malfunctioned, needs his operating system restarting.”

She was just about to reply when two arms wrapped around her shoulders, a set of lips pressing into her cheek. “That’s how you fuckin’ do it! Bitch got her shit rocked,” Lee exclaimed. “Proud of ya, sunshine.”

Guero was still on mute, but the look in his eyes, oh. It spoke many words, all of which Emma understood very clearly. Sinking the rest of his beer, he also downed a shot before sliding off the bar stool and promptly throwing her over his shoulder.

“Woah, okay!” she giggled, hanging onto the back of his kutte. “Where are we going?”

He chuckled, low and dirty, his hand pounding off her ass in a hard spank. “To restart my operating system.” He carried her with a dark tide of lust shadowing his insides, through the gate and out into the darkness of the yard, through the piles of abandoned, rusting metal, his eyes scanning from side to side.

The still partially shiny metal of a large, double doored fridge caught his attention, carrying her to it. Letting her slide from his shoulder, he pinned her against the structure with his chest before she could reach the ground, her legs tightening around him.

“Damn, baby,” he panted, pulling at his belt buckle, running the tip of his tongue up her neck. “You’re gonna get railed so fucking hard.”

They kissed with furious hunger, Guero feeling a ravenous desire tumbling over his bones, yanking his jeans undone and pushing them down his thighs, pulling her underwear aside and dropping her onto his cock with a rumbling grunt. He teeth imbedded in her lower lip, tongue rolling against hers as he speared her with deep, rapid thrusts, pulverising her insides, her wail rending the air.

He was savage with her, a ravenous delight that tumbled through him and into her, the thick drag of his cock filling and emptying her with absolutely nothing short of carnal fury, the remaining shelves within the fridge all beginning to clatter with the force he fucked her against it with.

“If getting mad at people does this to you, I might have to do it more often,” she panted, crying out as her walls flexed around him, feeling the coil within her tightening. He was just about to tell her how her spicy temper worked like an accelerant upon his desire, when she continued. “Oh, fuck, fuck, that cock is so fucking big! Mmm, yeah, fuck me harder. Fucking split me in two.”

And oh, how he did after hearing those sinfully dirty words. It roared over them both like a forest fire, the flames of their release scorching their nerves, leaving them both panting and trembling in the wake of such torrid ferocity.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she panted, resting her forehead to his as he pulled out and set her back on her feet. “Doubt I’ll be able to walk after that.”

He chuckled, kissing her hotly. “You did say split you in two, my spicy lil’ boo.” She walked as if she had been as well, Guero laughing to himself as they walked back to continue with the debauchery. They left at close to 4am, getting home via a cab since while not wasted, both were a little unsteady at that point. Stripping off, they let their clothes fall into a heap, throwing themselves into bed and curling up.

Alcohol was the strong sleeping tonic that pulled them both into slumber, neither Emma’s hissing nor Guero’s brontosaurus snoring hampering it. It was unfortunate that for the former, her sleep was not restful, though.

She recognised her dream surroundings immediately, the huge, white and oak kitchen, people buzzing around, she and Marie preparing little trays of appetisers for party guests.

“Here, darling. Make sure that plate stays separate, it’s for my ma,” Marie spoke, pointing at the little blue plate she had prepared a selection of gluten free snacks upon. “Unfortunate, isn't it? An Italian who can’t have gluten! Mother Mary, did you ever hear such a thing?”

Emma turned to her side, smiling, her eyes prickling as she played out her role in the dream, exactly as it had happened in life. “You’d be a nightmare if you couldn’t have proper bruschetta, mom.”

Marie nudged her with a soft elbow, chuckling as she sipped her wine. “Me and no bread, can you imagine?”

Even though just a dream, all Emma wanted to do was throw her arms around her, breathe in the scent of her Guerlain perfume, and tell her how much she missed her. Not having any kind of power over it, though, she found herself acting as she had on that night, Rocco’s fiftieth birthday there at the house, picking up the little blue plate.

“I’ll go take these out to her, she’s down by the pool.”

Marie clasped her arm, squeezing softly. “Good girl.”

Lifting the plate from the crowded island full of Marie’s beautiful, home cooked Italian delights, Emma left through the back door, walking down across the patio, smiling at guests as she passed.

“Are these for me?” Anna-Lucia greeted her with warmly, Emma proffering the plate forth.

“Yes, gluten free, just for you.”

Her smile was kind, taking the plate as she set her martini glass down on the table. “Thank you, love.”

With a little nod, Emma carried on, making herself of use by beginning to collect all the abandoned plates so she could go and place them into the dishwasher, knowing that if she didn’t, she could expect an earful of abuse or worse from Rocco. While passing through the lower part of the sprawling garden, she noticed that an earful was exactly what somebody was getting from her captor, her eyes scanning until she saw Rocco with a group of his friends, he and another in a heated exchange.

The man sure had balls, she thought, stepping up to the boss like that, Emma recognising him to be Mario, Rocco’s nephew. The exchange grew in ferociousness, Rocco suddenly lunging at him, clasping his throat and shunting him back against the children’s large, wooden playhouse. He then pulled a knife from his pocket, releasing the blade and plunging it into the wood right at the side of Mario’s head, yanking it out and holding it to his throat.

She awoke with a start.

“Mm, s’up, baby? Nightmare?”

“No,” she sighed, reaching to rub Guero’s forearm, taking a deep breath. “No, it was only a dream, but shit, it spooked me.” It hit her hard, such a realisation, that there within her subconscious lay a memory that her brain had drawn upon earlier in how she’d handled the situation with Lauryn. In wanting to make it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate such behaviour, she’d become the one thing she never wanted to be. Rocco.

Taking a breath, she leaned forward, resting her forehead to her knees. “What I did to Lauryn tonight, I behaved exactly how Rocco did one time towards his nephew. Mother fucking Mary, it was spot on, my brain must’ve drawn it out of a memory, because I just dreamed of the night I saw it happen. Christ, I’m him. I acted like he does when he’s pissed!”

“Mamas, no you ain’t. No way are you anything like that motherfucker.” Her boyfriend’s statement was staunch, Emma reaching for the nightstand lamp and switching it on.

Stretching her arms, she rested her head upon her knees again, hugging them to her chest as he stroked her back. “But what I did was, though! I went straight from his playbook, even called her a puttana, too. He used to call me that. Jesus!”

It was a hard juxtapose for Guero, since he was by nature a person who, had it been a guy sniffing around Emma, likely would have done exactly the same thing. In his world, it was the norm. Hell, he’d heard all about the time Lee had taken a pool cue to Lauryn and smacked her with it so hard it had broken after the third strike against her head. In Emma’s former world too, violence was the natural display of anger, but he saw clearly that she wasn’t comfortable with it being hers.

Pulling back from it. What he said made sense, even though he acknowledged it was something often beyond his own capabilities, Emma saw that going forward, she had to try for it not to be out of her own grasp. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew come the following day, she’d be putting herself within his proximity again, maybe it was that which had stirred her, the fear manifesting into the kind of anger she was not used to feeling.

The subconscious was a complicated beast, she realised.

Tiny little storms of worry struck upon her brain as she lay back down, curling into the warmth of Guero’s embrace once more. Still, she was glad that the alcohol in her system acted more powerfully to send her back to sleep than her thoughts did in keeping her awake. Upon waking, she had much more pressing troubles.

“My eyelashes hurt,” she bemoaned, sitting with Lee outside the clubhouse five hours later, both drinking very large, very strong coffees while they waited for their first customer to drop his bike off with them. “I haven’t felt this bad since my thirtieth, when we finished that bottle of mandarin vodka between ourselves.”

Indeed, Emma’s birthday had been a blast, but god, how she and Lee had suffered for it. EZ had found them passed out on top of his trailer, taking a combined effort from him, Guero and Bishop while also wasted to get them down again.

At the mere memory of orange vodka, Lee heaved suddenly, placing her coffee down and rushing back into the clubhouse, passing Bottles as he exited.

“You look remarkably fresh for someone who moved to sambuca at 2am,” she groaned, the bespectacled man beaming.

“I don’t get hangovers.” His statement earned him a scowl. “So, where’s G unit?” he then asked.

“Still asleep. He’ll be down a little later. I take it you didn’t even go home?”

He pointed with a grin. “Woke up between the pool table and her.”

She immediately thrust her fist forth. “Gimme some knucks!”

“Between that and the funky assed temper, you’re getting just like Lee,” he chuckled, obliging her with a fist bump.

A little prickle sharpened against her gut about the temper comment, thinking to herself that it wasn’t Lee whom she’d resembled last night as she’d wielded Angel’s knife. One thing Guero had told her rang true, though. She was not Rocco, and she had to emphatically remind herself of that.

Smiling, she responded casually. “Eh, I learned from the best.” The best arrived back after a few minutes, looking a little green, taking a seat with a groan.

“Please don’t tell me it’s today we gotta go to Tahoe,” she pleaded, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder. “I can’t cope!”

“No, buddy. Guero booked us for tomorrow, remember?”

“Remember? I don’t remember anything after you pulling a knife on that fuckin’ little tramp,” she groaned, Emma kissing her forehead as she made further noises of discontent, Lee then turning her attention to Bottles. “And why do you look so goddamned spritely? How fuckin’ dare you when I feel like my liver is packing up to leave! It’s outta here, on vacay, leaving me to die a death!”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, still beaming widely. “Got laid better than a roll of linoleum.”

His analogy cracked them up, Lee lighting herself a cigarette, taking a deep breath. “Well, at least you got some. I was too hammered to get a hammering! I’d say I’d never do it again, but I’ll have to be drunk just to sleep next to Gilly. Dude doesn’t snore, he fuckin’ whistles when he’s asleep. I’m surprised he doesn’t wake up every morning to a pack of dogs out on his fuckin’ front lawn.”

Much to Lee’s light chagrin, the only rooms available were doubles, meaning she and the big man had to share a bed. Bishop had made it even worse for her by jokingly telling her she could have a hall pass, mortifying the hell out of her since she looked at Gilly like a younger brother. The two men had nearly split their sides laughing as she’d hid her face in her hands.

“I still don’t know how the hell we’re meant to find out the room Vincent will be staying in when we get there,” Emma sighed, while they chatted about their upcoming visit. “I mean, what, one of us attracts the front desk person while the other tries to get a look at the computer screen?”

They sat up like a pair of meerkats, very curious over the information presented to them. “I’d completely fuckin’ forgotten that, that you’re a genius with the ole’...” Lee trailed off, making a typing motion with her fingers.

He cocked his head, looking pleased with himself. “I’d say somebody should’ve brought it to me last night prior to you guys booking hotel rooms for longer than necessary, but I was too deep in blue haired babe heaven, and everyone was wasted. Is what it is.” One short trip to fetch his gear later, and the three of them were sitting at the bar, Bottles tapping away.

“Okay, Hyatt Regency,” he muttered, eyes scanning the screen as streams of data moved across it, imputing more numbers and codes. “And enter this here, and... yep... mmhmm... bingo. I’m in.” He began to study the long list of names, Emma going behind the bar and pouring herself a shot of tequila, needing to see if hair of the dog worked. “Got it. Calabrese, room three zero seven.” He then continued to look down the list. “Lombardi, room five four two, just an FYI. Where are your rooms?”

“Ten and thirty-three, so we’re not even on the same floor. Phew.” Emma confirmed, breathing a sigh of relief. They didn’t even need to use the elevator, with them being on the ground floor. Inside though, her worry began to slowly coil around itself, like a viper constricting upon its prey.

#omg this chapter was so good #drunk lee is a blast #and so is angry emma #that other bitch never gonna step near a taken man again #the way guero was so fucking turned on by that lmao #can't wait to see what's going down at the hotel #guero #mayans mc #mayans fx

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