#I don't intend to go back and forth on this but I just kind of wanted to say my piece

[dxxtruction]

///

[bountycancelled]

(un)secret admirer

luke castellan x child of aphrodite!reader

tip me on kofi, if you feel so inclined

requested: nope, I'm just currently obsessing over pjo (aren't we all?) and Charlie bushnell is my pookie so luke is also my pookie (what about all the people he murdered– what murdaaaa?!)

warnings: none I believe!

content: probably ooc luke becusse I haven't read the books, I don't know if demigods even nap, I don't remember the movies and he's barely in the show lol, some cuddling, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, also I know demi gods are dyslexic i just dont gaf because i thought this concept was cute, that's all!

a/n: SEND ME PJO REQS! please. also this is short and I'm sorry, I've been having horrid writers block.

"I don't get what the big deal is." Lukes voice could be heard from where he sat on your bed, as you gazed at the piece of paper in your hand, pacing back and forth in your room as you analysed its every minute detail to the best of your abilities. "you get letters from the other campers all the time."

"I already told you Luke. this handwriting isn't the same as any other letter I've gotten, so that means it's from someone who's never sent me a note before, and I need to know who it is."

you had recieved a myriad of letters ranging from 'I think you're pretty' to 'I would sacrifice my right arm just to get a hug from you' during your time here at camp. beyond being drop dead gorgeous, you were kind, always wearing a charming smile on your face, and having the ability to comfort people with your presence alone.

that (coupled with the facts that most kids here had some kind of parental baggage and your kindness definitely filled some kind of void) meant that you recieved many a words from not so secret admirers. you were sure that you knew the identities of the people who had given you sealed envelopes and tightly folded papers, but you were currently stumped.

you were startled out of your staring contest with the scribbled ink by the feeling of Lukes arms around your shoulders as he spoke. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, now can you please come back to bed? you know that I can't nap if you're not with me."

you sighed, letting him lead you back to your bed so that he could rest before you two inevitable of the two of you needing to help around the camp occured. you stared up at the ceiling as he slowly started to dose off beside you, before you gasped and shot up, effectively spooking him out of a peaceful moment.

"it's Percy!" you shushed Luke before he had the chance to complain about your sudden exclamation or the fact that you weren't letting him get a wink of midday sleep. "I mean, he's just met me, and one of my friends probably told him some stuff about me–"

"it's not Percy." Luke deadpanned, pushing you down by the shoulder from the upright postpone you were sat in to make you lay back down, and wrapping his arm around your waist. you were shocked into silence, because although Luke was an affectionate friend, he had never cuddled you while he was still awake. he would always wake up and discovering that he had wrapped around you in his sleeping state, apologising sheepishly while retracting his limbs.

after a few moments of stunned silence, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement. "and how do you know it's not him, huh?" he simply blew air from his nose, tightening his grip around your waist.

"because it was me, sweetheart."

now that shut you up fairly quickly, as you bit your lip to try to hinder the giddy smile that wanted to form on your features. you opened your mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Luke placing a small kiss on the back of your neck.

"we'll talk when we wake up, alright?" but you weren't having any of that. "okay... but, before you go to bed. how long have you liked me? is this actually the first letter you've sent? why wouldn't you just tell me, you idiot. obviously I like you too. I know you said some stuff that you like about me in the letter, but I want you to tell me about everything you like about me, like every feature, every trait-"

Luke chuckled, sporting a big grin as you spoke. he would tell you all of that and more, he would do anything you asked of him, just as long as he got to hold you in his arms just like this.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Dorian, under a cut for length:

"Now this is a fun one. It's no big secret I have a lot of feelings about Dorian, not least of which because he was my first (and only) gay male companion. There's a lot more to him than that, of course (as there should be), and it was quite a trip. So let's go! Now, DAI is a story all its own, but I'm sticking to the characters. In this case, back at the beginning, the writers were going to try something new: we were going to let the artists take a more active role in the companion creation process. Why? Because not doing so had caused a lot of problems. See, here's the thing: writers and artists speak two different languages. When talking about characters, we talk about their story. Who they are. What they want. We'd write up these briefs, huge and full of information... but it was never the information the artists needed. They wanted visual cues. I don't mean describing their appearance. Sure, we'd usually provide that, especially if there was a story case to be made, but often the artists vetoed us on appearance stuff anyhow so meh. No, I mean they looked for visual language while we tended to only talk about who the characters *were*. What would happen is they'd hone in on something visual in our write-up not intended to be a focus. The first write-up for Anders in DA2, for instance, mentioned he was "haggard" after his journey... and the first concept we got was this pale, shriveled man. "What... is this?" "YOU SAID HAGGARD!" 😅"

"That was the other trick: sometimes when we DID try to be more descriptive, we had to be extra cautious because the words could be interpreted very differently. You encounter this recording VO, too. A VO note says "hysterical" and you *meant* "really upset" but the actor read "scream like a banshee" Thus this caused problems, like I said. The artists would struggle, sometimes conjuring details just to give the character *something* but which would change the character... and, to us, the character was created. Done. We were already invested, probably already writing them. Something had to give. So this time we wrote a bunch of character briefs - but short. One paragraph. We stuck to vibes and the *emotions* we wanted the concepts to evoke. And we didn't name them. They got titles like "Slick Con Man" or "Ice Queen", so we wouldn't get too attached. Then we handed these off to the artists. And it worked nicely. The ones that just weren't inspiring we'd discard, no problem. The others had juice... and the artists felt free to play and offer lots of variations because we weren't set on anything yet. A lot of times, what they produced ended up inspiring US. It was a neat back-and-forth."

"This is what led to Dorian, in fact. He came from a short write-up entitled "Rock Star Mage" and it really boiled down to "I'm cool and I know I'm cool, so take that you cretins". And just like that, the first sketches (by Casper Konefal, I think? I bet I'm wrong) were all amazing. Instant fire. Me: "He looks kind of like... Freddie Mercury?" Him: "Is that bad?" Me: "NO ARE YOU KIDDING THIS IS AMAZING" Plus there was a monkey. Sadly, we had to lose the monkey. There were iterations to come, but this was really where Dorian was born: Tevinter mage, noble, savant, and too cool for school."

"When did he become gay? Not right away. Like I said elsewhere, we didn't talk romance and sexuality until after the concepts were more in place. But as we were brainstorming about why this hot shot mage left Tevinter, the idea DID come up that maybe it was because he was gay. Not directly, however. Homophobia isn't really a thing in Thedas, after all, so at first blush I didn't think that could work. "Rich kid gets kicked out of the house for being gay" wasn't a trope I wanted to explore. But, then again, magister families in Tevinter are *obsessed* with the appearance of perfection, so...? Any deviation from the "norm" is considered scandal-worthy. It said weakness. It said you couldn't control your house. Now... THAT had real promise. The writing pit discussed it a lot. So I think it's fair to say that the gay fairy was already circling Dorian even before we got to the romance talk. I think it's also fair to say that the rest of the team realized I low-key wanted to write him, because when everyone started calling dibs, who was left standing for me? (I pick last, remember.) I gleefully snatched him up and got to work... ...about six months later. I was very busy at the time. 😅 That late start meant I had to design and write VERY quickly. And I did. Somehow, though, this one... it came easily. "Catty gay man" isn't digging very deep, no surprise to anyone who knows me, and it had an extra layer of being so fun because Dorian was confident. He sparred verbally. I loved it."

"There was more to it, however. The conflict between Dorian and his father... ugh, how do I say this? Let's be clear: Dorian's story is not MY story, but it's also not far off. I wrote the entire confrontation scene in one go. After I was done, I probably cried harder than I ever have in my life. 🫠 I was unsure whether it was any good, however. I just didn't feel objective. I passed it over to Cori May - my friend but also Dorian's editor - and asked her to please tell me and be honest. She read it. She walked into my office after, tears streaming down her face, and just nodded. "It's good." Here's the thing. Not everyone is going to agree with this, but: I don't think a writer NEEDS to be a minority in order to write a minority. Sometimes those characters should simply exist, and we want them to. But if that character's story is ABOUT their experience as a minority? That's different. Dorian's story didn't need to revolve around his sexuality - and, honestly, it only did so as a tangent to his family issue, but they're so bound together it's probably irrelevant to split them - but my writing him meant it could be. It allowed me to SAY something. That felt good. It felt right. Ramon Tikaram came on board after a lengthy casting process (so many British Indian accents, oh god). I sat in on a few recording sessions... the confrontation scene, though? Ramon: *says line* Me: (curled up on a nearby sofa in fetal position) *shaky thumbs up* Caroline: "Yep. Great work, Ramon!""

"Dorian's sexuality isn't all he's about, but that's certainly how some viewed it. When the character was announced in 2014, his being gay was mentioned as the last of a number of points, and the instant response from some gamers was to act as if we'd called a press conference just to say THAT. 🙄 It was annoying. Still is. Overall, however, the reaction to Dorian was very positive. The number of straight men who said they romanced him still pleases me. The number of fans who privately contacted me who'd been through conversion therapy, some who said Dorian helped them survive? Well. Gosh. 😭 I did write him for Trespasser - though I hear that a late scope cut meant every conversation had been chopped by 1/3rd or more, and that meant a lot of nuance lost. Which is sad, if true, because it sounds like the result of that left some Dorian romancers a bit cold. Such is how game dev rolls. 😔 If you need more proof of how it was hard for me to let go of him, a short story I wrote after Trespasser came out where Dorian has a bit of closure with his dead father: medium.com/@davidgaider... So yeah. He'll always be my boi. And I'll always be thankful Bio gave me this opportunity. ❤️"

[source thread]

User: "I'm not going to lie, it's hard to take my mind off Dorian almost having a monkey." David Gaider: "If by “almost” you mean there was a picture of a monkey that the concept artist put there as a whim, and which would almost certainly have taken more cinematics and modeling time to put in than we could ever afford… then yes. 😉" [source]

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Sixteen (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; 20.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Heyyyy besties LOL! Prepare yourselves! This chapter is definitely my spiciest yet, so hold onto your seats (and don't look at me LOL I'm Seokjin thirsty). Besides that, though, we have domestic moments, and GHOSTBUSTING WOO HOO! I hope you all enjoy this and don't hate me for being thirsty. Love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!

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

Suddenly, all of the sounds of the city faded into oblivion. Cars rushing by passed in colored blurs, romantic music flooding out from restaurants filled with couples celebrating Valentine’s Day dimmed to a hum, and all Y/N could focus on, or even register, were the clumps of powdery snow beginning to gather on Seokjin’s long, straight lashes. His fiery eyes were shifting back and forth, assessing the expression on her face, his sleek black tail curling self-consciously around his waist. Y/N’s brain was scrambling for any kind of coherent response, Seokjin’s grip on her hands going slack once the seconds stretched on. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seokjin whispered sadly, to himself. It was that statement that had Y/N snapping out of her state of shock. 

“Jin–” Y/N exclaimed, but Seokjin had let her go, turning slightly and trudging away, his hand tightening around the handles of the shopping bag. “Wait, honey!”

“We should head back to the car, it’s getting cold with the snow,” Seokjin’s voice sounded thick, like his throat was closing up, making Y/N hiss and lurch forward, catching him by his felt coat. Promptly, he halted, though he wouldn’t turn around to face her. 

“Actually, we should talk,” Y/N managed, pulling Seokjin along desperately, yanking him up the stairs of the church they were in front of and pushing the two of them inside the warm building. 

The place was lit up, but mercifully empty, and Y/N assumed the priests were in the back of the building, a separate room, where they kept vestments– Jeongguk had been telling her about various aspects of Christianity and the architecture of churches during their hours of reviewing tapes for the Sanders’ case with Namjoon. Huffing, she towed her jaguar hybrid to the enclosed room at the front of the church’s entrance, the one with a window facing altar; the space was intended for parents with crying children to sit in so as not to disturb Mass. Y/N thought it was as good of a place as any to have a private conversation without freezing their asses off in the snow. 

“W-why are we here?” Seokjin still wouldn’t turn his face to hers, instead choosing to studiously stare out the window, fixing his eyes on the elaborate wooden pulpit. 

“Seokjin, look at me,” Y/N requested gently, tugging the fabric of his coat lightly to encourage him. 

Stiffening, Seokjin swallowed, his ears still pressed flat against his wavy head of black hair, chewing on his lip as he finally looked her in the eyes once more. Heart clenching seeing the aching vulnerability on his face, she took the bag of their purchases from Eataly from his hand, placing it on one of the chairs behind them. 

“You don’t have to let me down gently, Y/N…” Seokjin uttered quietly, and despite herself, Y/N was rolling her eyes while her back was to him. 

“Seokjin, will you just hear me out for a few minutes?” Y/N replied, trying to compose herself despite the way she was nearly ready to pounce on Seokjin. “Don’t shut down on me like that.”

Seokjin remained quiet, his throat bobbing when she faced him again, Y/N sighing and wondering how the hell to explain to him her feelings, not only for him, but for the rest of his housemates. It had her head swimming, and the strong scent of church incense wasn’t helping. 

“You… said you loved me?” Y/N wanted to confirm, Seokjin’s neck turning an even deeper shade of red, but he nodded slightly nonetheless. His tail was still curled around his waist. 

“Ever since my birthday. Probably even before then,” Seokjin admitted, Y/N’s heart beginning to race in her chest, one of Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound. 

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, watching Seokjin trying to not look crestfallen. 

“I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after tonight,” Seokjin continued, one of his hands coming up to rub at his bicep. “Even though… you and Yoongi.”

Time stopped, space ceased to exist. All that mattered to her in those seconds was Seokjin, and his undiluted earnesty was palpable. Nothing could stop Y/N from opening her mouth impulsively, at that point. 

“I think I fell in love with you on Halloween,” Y/N blurted loudly, Seokjin’s jaw dropping open in pure shock, her voice echoing in the empty room and emphasizing the ferociousness in her tone. “Seeing you with the kids, handing out candy. Or maybe it was that night you held me after Tae and Joon’s fight.”

“What?” Seokjin breathed, a combination of elation and confusion taking over his expression. 

“I fell in love with Yoongi when he offered to teach me piano,” Y/N couldn’t help the word vomit pouring from her mouth, figuring if anything, she could confess all of her feelings to Seokjin, and maybe he’d get where she was coming from. “Jeongguk and Joon when they helped me with the spirit, that day outside when we did the cleansing ritual, I knew I loved them. I fell for Hoseok when I realized he was the glue holding us together.”

Understanding dawned on Seokjin as she spilled her guts to him, but all he did was reach for her hands, a tender look in his eyes so sweet Y/N nearly began to weep. Honestly, she could have been weeping, but she couldn’t stop her speech as Seokjin held her. 

“Seeing Jimin wear his expressions so earnestly, innocently, and Taehyung’s trust in me, his love for our home…” Y/N shuddered when Seokjin pulled her in for a hug, her face pressed against the front of his coat, and palms stroking up and down her back to soothe. “I’m in love with you all, I can’t help it, but I do. I love you, Seokjin, so, so much.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but his chest began to vibrate with purrs, simply holding her as Y/N took a few moments to breathe, initially not coming to the conclusion that saying all of that out loud would end up being such an emotional release for her. Physically, she felt lighter once she admitted all of that to Seokjin, but she was nervous about how he was taking the news that she had feelings for 6 others. 

“You really love me? You mean it?” Seokjin broke the silence, his hands shaking as he pushed lightly on her shoulders so he could look at her face, his ears finally perked up after being pressed flat to his head for so long. 

Grasping one of his wrists, Y/N maintained eye-contact as she pressed his palm over her heart, no doubt beating rapidly even underneath her thick coat. A small exhale came from Seokjin, Y/N craning her head upwards to scan his face, not wanting to keep him in the lurch any longer. 

“Of course I mean it,” Y/N whispered, her free hand curling in the material of his coat, feeling tears gather along her lash line. “You have my heart.”

Seokjin chuckled, the sound watery, and Y/N felt his hands still trembling as they moved to cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones with reverence. She shivered, sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his heart, beating wildly, drowning in the scent of his eucalyptus body wash. 

“I–” Seokjin swallowed, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can I kiss you?”

Heart stopping altogether, her eyelids fluttered as she felt his shaky hands still cradling her face, so gently she could hardly feel the touch. 

“Yes,” Y/N replied eagerly, her voice barely coming out at all, transfixed by the way Seokjin looked at her with complete adoration. “Please.”

Slowly, like time had been suspended, she watched Seokjin duck his head, his eyelids growing heavy as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers, Y/N unable to shut her eyes as his beautiful face neared closer than ever. Sucking in a tiny breath, she melted against his broad chest, fingers sliding into the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. When Seokjin’s eyes closed, she kept hers open a fraction, only for stars to explode in her vision once his voluminous lips landed on hers. 

Immediately making a noise of delight, Y/N sank into Seokjin, not caring that they were in public, or a church, for that matter. The press of his mouth was impossibly sweet, loving, Y/N nearly groaning as his lower lip slipped against the seam of her mouth. While the kiss was chaste, Seokjin’s thumbs still tenderly caressing her cheekbones, it had her insides igniting, angling her head so Seokjin could work his mouth against hers more deeply. Her lungs were burning for oxygen all too soon, Y/N refusing to break the lock of their lips, but unfortunately, her jaguar hybrid sensed her need to breathe, and his perfect lips slid from hers sensually. 

Before she could speak, her hands still in his hair, Seokjin began stamping kisses all over her face, like he had the last time he scented her. The purrs coming from his chest grew in volume when she sighed in bliss, Seokjin’s hands moving to cup her neck while he brushed a kiss over her jaw bone. 

“I love you, I love you…” Seokjin breathed, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck, Y/N nearly passing out in his strong arms. “My Y/N. My pretty girl, I love you…”

“S-seokjin. Mmm,” Y/N attempted to speak, though the distraction of him mouthing over the slope of her throat was overwhelming. “You, uh? Know– that I, um. Love the others, too? Does it bother you?”

Seokjin paused, pressing one last kiss underneath her earlobe, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. His warmth consumed her, and the way he held her felt like she was being cherished– her own arms wound around his wide shoulders in retribution.

“There’s nothing you could do or say that would change how I feel,” Seokjin said firmly, Y/N shivering at the finality in his tone. “I just… I didn’t think you loved me the way I love you. I had hope when we had lunch with Hannah, but…”

“Yoongi,” Y/N finished for him, nuzzling her face into his chest. 

“Does he?” Seokjin probed cautiously, running his hands through her hair, seemingly not able to get enough of touching her so freely. 

“Know? Yeah,” Y/N blushed, the whole situation so complicated, she hardly knew how it came to be in the first place. “He knows I love you. All of you.”

Seokjin rested his chin on the top of her head, humming contentedly as he held her. All she wanted in that moment was to remain in his embrace, soaking in his comforting presence, but all too soon he was drawing away, his eyes sparkling and lips a tad swollen from their kiss. 

“I think we should head home. We scandalized the priests,” Seokjin nodded to the window, Y/N’s face on fire when she realized indeed, two young priests were gawking at them from behind the glass, and both of them hurriedly returned to arranging pamphlets in the pews. 

With that, her and Seokjin giggling the entire way, they left the church, Y/N waving apologetically to the priests while Seokjin grabbed onto her free hand. Y/N didn’t have time to think about what would happen when they got home, but because she swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide information from the others anymore, she wasn’t about to sneak around with Seokjin like she had with Yoongi. 

Outside, it was still snowing, but tucked closely into Seokjin’s side, she hardly felt the cold. His arm was around her waist, hand entwined with hers, tucked into her coat pocket. The walk back to the parking garage wasn’t long, but it took twenty minutes– Seokjin stopping occasionally for a kiss amongst the snow storm, his lips melting against hers. 

“Got the bag?” Y/N jumped out of the car, glancing at their lit-up house in front of her, chewing her lip nervously. 

It wasn’t too late in the evening, so Y/N knew that everyone was probably still up, snacking on their Valentine candy and watching TV, perhaps. Namjoon’s van wasn’t running, surprisingly, so neither he nor Jeongguk were hanging out in there. Seokjin appeared from around the car, the bag of ingredients and recipes in hand, a sweet smile stretched across his face. 

Someone flicked on the porch light, most likely Namjoon, who kept quite the canine watch over the front door, especially at night. Clearing her throat, she gestured for Seokjin to head up the porch steps, following closely behind and praying the wolf hybrid wouldn’t immediately sniff out that her and Seokjin’s relationship dynamic had shifted significantly. The jaguar hybrid opened the front door, letting Y/N in first, locking up behind her promptly– if he didn’t, Namjoon would have had a stroke seeing the deadbolt pulled back. 

The house was toasty, and judging by the scent, Yoongi had made his popular roasted chicken for dinner for everyone that was left at home. She was blushing as Seokjin unzipped her coat for her, shucking it off and hanging it in the closet, the sounds of the TV from the parlor indicating that a few of the hybrids were hanging out in there. 

“You’re back,” Yoongi appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with a dish rag in his hand. “I thought I’d have to call a cab for you two.”

“No, we took a walk to digest the wine before I got behind the wheel,” Y/N replied, Yoongi smirking when Seokjin was fussing over lint on her sweater from her coat, his fingertips skimming her arms and sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Hope there’s leftover chicken for my lunch tomorrow!”

“You know there isn’t, even without you and Jin eating your fill,” Yoongi scoffed, flicking long hair out of his face. The front of his white tee-shirt was damp from doing dishes, the material clinging to the muscles of his lower abdomen. “Here, let me take that.”

Yoongi sprung forward, taking the Eataly bag from Seokjin, and Y/N didn’t miss the way Yoongi subtly sniffed in her direction, his expression turning sly as he returned to the kitchen with the swish of his spotted tail. Stiffening, knowing that Yoongi could probably detect Seokjin’s scent all over her, as well as her uneasy expression, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“How the hell are we going to break the news without me suffering from a heart attack?” Y/N sighed, shivering when Seokjin cupped the nape of her neck, stroking the sides of her throat, Y/N blinking up at him from her spot in front of the jaguar hybrid, unease heighting when she saw the mischief on his face. “What are you–”

“I LOVE Y/N!” Seokjin suddenly hollered at the top of his lungs, Y/N flinching a foot in the air, both because she never heard Seokjin speak so loudly, and the words that came from his mouth. “SHE LOVES ME BACK!”

Cringing, Y/N supposed that was one way to do it, Seokjin bending suddenly and picking Y/N up by her waist, spinning her around like a giant goober. While her world was turning, dizzying up her head, she caught Jeongguk and the shape of his antlers, poking his head over the bannister from upstairs with a hand pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Prick. 

Hoseok barreled into the foyer from the parlor, half of a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth, clever eyes round and filled with joy. 

“No way. You told her!?” Hoseok fist-bumped the air, whistling his three-note tone, russet tail swinging merrily. Y/N’s jaw was loose, the idea that Seokjin had been discussing his feelings for her with Hoseok hard to fathom.

Namjoon’s door cracked open a few inches, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he glanced out into the hall, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Despite the news, his gaze went straight to the front door, making sure it was locked up, his half-bitten ear fluttering in satisfaction. 

“Didn’t strike me as the polyamorous type, kiddo,” Jeongguk slouched down the stairs, tattoos on both his arms exposed with the muscle tee he was wearing. “You on the other hand, Pink Panther, you should work on subtlety.”

Embarrassed by the jab from Jeongguk, an amused glitter in his black eyes, Y/N shot him a withering glare, very aware of Seokjin still holding her mid-air like a child. 

“Yo, Yoongi! You have competition!” Hoseok shouted in the direction of the kitchen, the leopard hybrid popping into the hall and giving Hoseok the finger. 

“Foxy, I’ve never heard a voice as grating as yours, let alone known someone to flap their gums so much,” Yoongi seethed, though his expression softened when he looked at Y/N. The silent exchange between the two was, as always, supernatural, the uneven set of Yoongi’s mouth almost telling her congratulations. “Leave Y/N alone, you’re embarrassing her.”

Hoseok finished chewing his Twizzler, still staring at Seokjin proudly, Y/N tapping on Seokjin’s shoulders for him to put her down sheepishly. Seokjin, reluctantly, lowered her to the floor, glee still plain as day on his face. 

“You guys could have a thr—” Hoseok was cut off when Yoongi used the dish rag he was still holding to smack the back of the fox hybrid’s head, even Seokjin offering Hoseok a low, feral growl. “Nevermind! I’ll butt out! Y/N, come watch Step Brothers with me!”

Hoseok, quick to recover from the sharp whack of the towel, his hand massaging his scalp with a wince, gestured towards the parlor, winking at Y/N merrily. Y/N snorted, hoping that the shameful spark of enticement that struck through her at that idea was undetected by the hybrids in the foyer. Jeongguk was calling Hoseok a ‘dirty goddamn pervert’ before retreating outside for a smoke. 

Casting a look upstairs, Y/N noticed Taehyung’s door ajar, the Kodiak hybrid’s head of dark curly hair visible. Too far away to gauge his reaction, Y/N hoped that he wasn’t upset, even though Seokjin had cut right to the chase, declared their mutual affection, and they weren’t sneaking around. She felt immensely awkward, between Yoongi and Hoseok still bickering, Taehyung watching from upstairs, and Namjoon’s disinterested retreat back into his bedroom. 

“Wanna go watch the movie with me?” Y/N put her focus on Seokjin, unwilling to part with him just yet, and truthfully, missing Hoseok like a lost limb. “I can stay up for a bit longer before I head to bed for work tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hm,” Seokjin easily agreed, the peeved look on his face disappearing when Y/N reached for his hand. Before they left for the parlor, Y/N addressed Yoongi, who was heading back into the kitchen, murmuring something about “fuckin’ fox”. 

 “Hey, angel. Any idea where Jimin is?” Y/N tried to pay no mind to Seokjin pressing on the vulnerable skin of the inside of her wrist with his thumb, Yoongi humming and leaning forward, kissing her cheekbone with a featherlight ghost of his lips. 

“His room, showering. Can’t you hear the noisy-ass pipes?” Yoongi replied, jutting his chin forward in the direction of Jimin’s room down the hall. “Don’t worry. Every hybrid in a two mile radius heard Seokjin’s declaration.”

“Ass,” Y/N muttered, narrowly dodging the dish towel he twisted up to level a smack to her behind, Seokjin growling gutturally and tugging Y/N towards the parlor, ignoring Yoongi’s amused snickers. 

Hoseok was already comfortable on the recliner, the movie queued up, snacking on his Twizzlers with a wry smirk on his face, staring pointedly at her and Seokjin’s intertwined fingers. Resisting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face with her mouth, Y/N squeaked when Seokjin yanked on her hand, the jaguar hybrid plopping down on the couch with her in tow. Somehow, she found her legs draped over his lap, her back leaning on the armrest and his hands running up and down her calves indulgently. It seemed Seokjin was resuming his touchiness, and that time around, he jacked up the intensity to one thousand. 

Hoseok simply played the movie, like her and Seokjin sitting like that was completely ordinary, Y/N finding herself a little tense with the intimacy of the position she was in. However, as seconds ticked by and Seokjin’s fingertips massaged her skin vigorously, she was melting into the couch, eyes already heavy with sleep. Over the noise of the movie, Seokjin’s content purrs lulled her to sleep, and the next time she had consciousness was when she felt him gather her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom. 

“I think we’re going to schedule the investigation for Monday, do you think that will work?” Y/N was in the process of stacking a new batch of Labradorite onto the crystal table at the shop, Judy helping her with her silver bangles jangling. 

“You’ll have to give Erika a call, and I’ll book the hotel that the family will stay in overnight,” Judy replied, blowing sandy hair out of her face. 

Y/N had about one million things going on in her life at that point, but prioritizing the investigation was at the near top of the list. First, of course, was Hoseok’s birthday that upcoming Saturday, and Y/N had finally managed to plan what they were doing after squeezing it out of him. That aside, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jimin in 24 hours, the coyote hybrid was already outside with the horses before she went to work that morning, so Y/N had no idea what he thought of her and Seokjin yet. Taehyung, at least, was present for her early breakfast with Yoongi, and didn’t appear upset at all, which had her and Yoongi exchanging secret looks of pure disbelief. 

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Judy snapped her out of her thoughts, a kind smile on her face when Y/N realized she was staring blankly at a slab of rose quartz. 

“O-oh, no, I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind, my bad,” Y/N stuttered, Judy nodding while adjusting the way a sphere of Labradorite was sitting in a shallow bowl, so the flash of blue in the crystal was sparkling just right. “What did you say?”

“Not to worry, Y/N. I was just asking about your hybrids… that reading I gave you many months ago. Have you seen any truth in it?”

It was common for Judy to speak like that, as if she didn’t have psychic ability, but it didn’t bother Y/N at all. In fact, she preferred Judy’s way of going about divination rather than her mother’s tactic of going behind her back or blurting out her random premonitions without warning. 

“I…” Y/N fumbled with the box in front of her, accidentally dropping the rose quartz point she was holding. “I took some notes, like you suggested. I was able to connect the cards to each of them.”

“Really?” Judy exclaimed, excitement lighting up her green eyes, though the tug at the corner of her mouth told Y/N her boss knew as much. 

“Considering my boy’s pasts, when you gave me that reading at the time, I was sort of against the idea of entertaining any kind of romance between us. I wanted them to feel safe enough to start living their lives how they wanted. But I couldn’t help…”

“Falling?” Judy raised an eyebrow, her smile kind and sincere. 

“Yeah, more like I hurtled myself off the cliff of no return,” Y/N joked, thoughts going to Seokjin, who sent her off that morning with dozens of kisses peppered across her cheeks. She thought of Yoongi, who got up extra early to make more chicken for her lunch. How Taehyung would snap pictures of her when she wasn’t looking, Namjoon’s thoughtful nightly book recommendations. 

“Good to know that my readings are still accurate,” Judy was amused, placing another crystal on the table with a chuckle. “That’s why you’ve been so chipper these days. A couple of months ago you seemed very stressed out.”

“I’m still figuring things out. Two of them reciprocate my feelings, so far,” Y/N mumbled quietly, somehow finding it nice to confide in her boss. Her mother would be way too excited to talk about her and the boys. 

“Is one of them part of our new investigation team?” Judy got to her feet, dusting off her maxi skirt. “That wolf hybrid seemed quite protective of you that day you brought him here in August.”

Y/N blinked, thinking back to that day– it was the first day she even spoke to Namjoon, the day she brought him home. She shook her head quickly, a pang in her chest, remembering his stoic indifference towards her relationships with Yoongi and Seokjin. 

“No, he’s not one of them,” she replied, Judy chuckling once again. 

“Stubborn, I remember that from the card I pulled for him.”

“Oh, not to change the subject, but speaking of Namjoon– my wolf hybrid, I mean,” Y/N joined Judy at the counter with the empty cardboard box from the kitchen, chewing her lip. “He’s interested in coming to work with me a few times a week. Would it be okay if I bring him next time I’m here?”

Judy helped her break down the cardboard box, nodding enthusiastically. 

“That would be wonderful! We won’t have to haul in these crystal boxes anymore and break our backs. I take it he’s interested in your practice?”

“I think he just likes to get out of the house, and he’s a big reader. Honestly it’s our book collection here that interests him, most likely,” Y/N glanced at her watch, noting that it was time for her lunch break, mouth watering at the thought of Yoongi’s chicken. “He’ll be happy you said yes, thank you so much!”

Judy waved her off like ‘no problem’ heading to the back room. Typically, around lunch, Judy would leave Y/N at the shop and head home if she had no scheduled readings. According to the books, there was no one scheduled for services, so it was likely Judy was on her way out and Y/N would have to lock up later. Humming as she unpacked her lunch, she shot Namjoon a text. 

Y/N: Judy says you can come to work with me whenever you want! 🥳

Joonie 🐺: Thanks for asking, I’ll come with you next week.

Namjoon wasn’t much of a texter, so she left it at that, grinning at her lockscreen as she closed it. She tended to rotate wallpapers, but currently, it was the picture of Jimin and Seokjin laughing at Hoseok being chased around by Bandit the rooster. Every time she saw it, it made her snort, her heart warming. Y/N flinched when she got a notification from her banking app, her direct deposit hitting her admittedly semi-drained account. Sighing with relief, as she had spent quite a bit of money on Hoseok’s upcoming birthday, she thought it was all worth it when she glanced at his smiling face on her lockscreen. 

“We should go on a date,” Seokjin had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she was folding some laundry in her room, his tail winding around her leg and lips in her ear. She dropped the tank top she was holding in surprise, craning her neck so she could look at him. 

“You wanna take me on a date, Seokjinnie?” Y/N cooed, prodding at his cheek teasingly. “Where do you want to go, honey?”

Seokjin pursed his lips as he thought, nestling his chin in the crook of her neck. Nearly swooning at how affectionate he had become in just two days, she felt his steady heartbeat flush against her back. 

“We don’t even have to go anywhere, pretty. We can stay here, just do something special, the two of us,” Seokjin replied, her cheeks aflame when he called her pretty, but Y/N was reminded of Seokjin’s slight distaste for traveling, so she got what he was trying to say. 

“I like the sound of that,” Y/N resumed folding her tank top, already cooking up some ideas for an at-home date for the two of them. “How about next Friday, the 24th. I’ll plan something for the two of us, okay?”

“Mmm,” Seokjin agreed, kissing her temple, regretfully pulling away from her and reaching for the laundry basket to help her out. “Only if you let me plan some things of my own for that night.”

“Of course, love,” Y/N giggled, but her laughter was cut short once she glanced at the jaguar hybrid, who was currently folding a pair of her lacy panties. “Oh my god. Let me fold that!”

Snatching the thong away from him, Y/N wanted to throw up from humiliation, but all Seokjin did was snort, retrieving another pair of panties from the laundry basket– to her mortification. 

“You’re acting like I’ve never seen these before. Pretty, don’t you know that we’ve all been folding your underwear for months each time we have laundry duty?” Seokjin was ever so nonchalant, Y/N stupidly realizing that her panties didn’t magically appear in her dresser, when she wasn’t the one to pull them out of the dryer. 

“Oh my god,” Y/N face-planted into her mattress, the realization like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

 She pictured smug Jeongguk in the laundry room, hanging up one of her skimpy bralettes, or worse, utility-grade sports bras on the drying rack, nearly curling into herself in shame. Seokjin patted her back, barely containing his laughter, but all that did was make Y/N want to hide in a hole even more. 

“Y/N, you wash our underwear every week, fold it, too. You bought us underwear, you know what they look like. Don’t be so embarrassed,” Seokjin hauled Y/N up by her elbows, clear humor written all over his face, Y/N unsure whether or not she enjoyed it when he teased her so much. “Ooh. I like these ones.”

Seokjin dangled a pair of baby pink panties in front of her face with his forefinger and thumb, the pair with a tiny bow on the waistline, the fabric a mixture of cotton and lace. Absolutely scandalized, Y/N felt both involuntary arousal and annoyance strike through her. 

“Okay, now you’re fucking with me,” Y/N bat his hand out of her face, Seokjin’s squeaky laughter filling the room noisily. “Don’t be pervy, Seokjin. It doesn’t suit you!”

“Oh, no?” Seokjin cocked his head, his sleek black ears fluttering as his expression turned sly. “Shame…”

Y/N swore Seokjin’s eyes darkened, and she wondered what he meant by that, hurriedly grabbing her underwear from him and stuffing the garment into her dresser. She heard Seokjin snicker, but he mercifully stopped teasing her, moving on to fold a pair of her pajamas instead, biting his lip. 

“Um, so what should we have for dinner tonight?” Y/N changed the subject, trying to block out sudden lewd thoughts surrounding her and Seokjin, her movements jittery. 

Seokjin looked like he wanted her for dinner that night, but he managed to compose himself with his gorgeous smile, tucking her pajamas into her drawer beside her. She mentally dared him to make the innuendo that was no doubt floating around his head, but Seokjin didn’t– Y/N hardly knew if she was relieved or disappointed. 

“Well, we got those steaks in the fridge Yoongi picked up from the butcher’s shop. Didn’t you show me a recipe for steak with some kind of bourbon sauce?” 

“Oh, yeah, I could go for that,” Y/N’s mouth watered, already picturing her plate filled with meat, smashed potatoes, and maybe some crispy green beans. 

Seokjin purred, closing up her dresser. Turning, Seokjin reached for her chin, Y/N’s heart pounding harshly in her chest, the jaguar hybrid looking down at her through his eyelashes. Tilting her face up, Seokjin’s hold on her firm but delicate, and involuntarily, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips while Seokjin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the movement. She was staring at his mouth in a daze, saying huh when he spoke again, not hearing him the first time. 

“I said, pretty,” Seokjin’s thumb pressed on her lower lip, his voice lilting and spellbinding like a siren. “If we make that, take it easy on the bourbon, okay? You got sick last time Jimin brought out the whiskey.”

“I forgot about that,” Y/N responded quietly, blush settling over her cheeks when she remembered how Seokjin had to hold her hair back while she spilled her guts into the toilet after one glass, his free hand soothingly rubbing her back when she heaved over the porcelain bowl. “Emb-barassing. At least you still loved me after that, hurling and crying hysterically… what a mess.”

“Hmm…” Seokjin strengthened the hold he had on her chin, his expression a combination of playfulness and reapproach, making her gut tighten. “What do you humans say when you get married? ‘In sickness and in health’?”

Jaw hanging loose, still not used to how deeply Seokjin felt for her, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Appearing smug, Seokjin kissed her forehead softly, continuing to speak when she had no reply. 

“Remember, you took care of my fever when you adopted me? I was returning that gesture!”

“I love you,” was all Y/N could think of in response, feeling his tail wind around her waist sensually, Y/N leaning forward and up, capturing his lips in a surprise kiss, Seokjin freezing for a moment before he parted his mouth slightly, kissing her lower lip sweetly. 

Seokjin had yet to kiss her in a way that was, well, more heated, but she loved the chaste, adoring kisses that he did offer her infinitely. She whimpered against his mouth when one of his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her closer into his embrace. Seokjin made his own noise of pleasure in response, one that had her stomach flipping over. Before she could deepen their kiss, like always, Seokjin pulled away, his pillowy lips shiny and red. Releasing the hold she had on him– fists curled into the material of his sweater, she pouted at the loss of contact, but Seokjin simply snorted through his nose and shook his head, his eyes sparkling. 

“Let’s go, we still have to switch over the laundry before starting on dinner,” Seokjin let go of her, Y/N blinking away her desire, her pout growing deeper. 

“Ugh, my muscles are sore. I don’t wanna go back upstairs,” Y/N complained, watching Seokjin scoop up the empty laundry basket, his face becoming contemplative as he assessed her, before he set the basket down again. “Judy had me schlepping in 30 pound boxes of crystals into the store all week.”

“Here, then,” Seokjin turned, bending slightly, motioning for her to get on his back with a cheeky grin. “I’ll carry you up.”

Normally, Y/N would have been embarrassed to take Seokjin up on the offer, but childlike glee welled up in herself instead– not even hesitating to jump on him with a giggle. Seokjin straightened up, adjusting his steady hold around the backs of her knees, giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs to the laundry room happily. Arms draped around her jaguar hybrid’s neck, elated, she indulged in a desire she had been holding onto for months– and planted a kiss on the side of his strong neck, Seokjin shivering beneath her. 

Y/N watched Jeongguk lift a heavy box of gadgets into Namjoon’s van, the elk hybrid grunting with the weight of it, Y/N clicking her tongue at him. It may had had been a mistake to give him a bottomless budget to go crazy on ordering equipment, because he had enough of it to film an episode of Ghost Adventures and put Zak Bagans to shame. She supposed, however, that it made him happy and less bratty, and with just two days until the scheduled investigation, she noticed the elated difference in Jeongguk’s attitude.   

“So,” Y/N began, hoping that the fact that he had a brand new set of electronics to mess with would loosen him up. “Hoseok’s birthday tonight. We’re all going to go out together, right?”

“Do I really have to spend the evening in a sweaty nightclub with a bunch of drunk and horny humans?” Jeongguk peered over his shoulder with a grimace, scratching one of his tapered ears. 

“I spent almost a grand on a fucking table for eight, so yeah, you need to suck it up and put your leather pants on,” Y/N snapped, Jeongguk spinning around and staring at her with shock and contempt. “Seokjin doesn’t like loud noises or crowds and he still agreed to go for Hoseok.”

“Jesus wept, fine,” Jeongguk put his hands up, dark eyes round. 

“You’ll have fun. Get wasted and listen to music, two of your favorite things to do,” Y/N soothed, smirking. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, returning to his task, fiddling with some kind of EMF detector that probably burnt a hole into her already slimmed-down wallet. “Where’s Joon?”

“Am I the wolf’s keeper or something?” Jeongguk raised his pierced brow, leaning his hip against the van and humming at the growing annoyance Y/N was feeling towards him. “Check the stable, he wanted to go for a walk, mentioned needing to talk to the coyote. Satisfied, kiddo?”

Muttering, she stormed away from him, peeved that he was laughing heartily at her tantrum. She wanted to similarly check in on Namjoon, who had yet to give a response to the idea of taking a limo and spending their Saturday night in a club for Hoseok. Positive that Namjoon had never stepped foot in a place like the club she had booked, she wanted to show him a few pictures so he’d have an idea of what he’d be walking into. 

A couple of weeks prior, she cornered Hoseok, hugging him around his waist and refusing to let go until he picked out what he wanted to do for his birthday. Finally, he agreed to go out to the club, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but Y/N was relieved he told her so she could book a table in advance. The fox hybrid, the morning of his birthday, went out for his long-distance Saturday run, so she didn’t get to see much of him during the afternoon. No doubt, before they left, Hoseok would spend quite a bit of time getting showered and dressed for the occasion. 

Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body, she had the stable in sight, the sound of chickens clucking within their coop, a layer of snow collected on the roof of the building. It was likely that Namjoon and Jimin heard and smelled her approach, but she hoped that she caught them off-guard, secretly. Those two particular hybrids were friendly towards each other, but it struck her as odd that Namjoon would have something in specific to discuss with the coyote hybrid. 

Pausing by the stable door and peering around it cautiously, she spotted Jimin kneeling besides what appeared to be the early stages of the garden bed constructions, sawdust covering his jeans while he pointed at something. Neither of them glanced her way, Namjoon standing with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest. Straining her ears, she was able to eavesdrop, astounded that neither of them caught her scent yet. 

“–yeah, this smaller one here is for herbs, if that’s what you mean,” Jimin was saying, his sandy tail swishing against the ground. 

“Do you think it’s big enough?” Namjoon had skepticism painting his tone. 

“Why, you don’t think so? Y/N wanted a small one for cooking herbs,” Jimin was chewing on his lip, light eyebrows pulled together. 

“Can you do another medium-sized one? I’ve been doing some research on the types of herbs she’d be able to grow during the summer in this area, there’s quite a few. That way she’ll have a bigger variety for her practice, and we can keep the culinary herbs separate,” Namjoon requested, Y/N clasping a hand over her mouth, blown away that Namjoon would do something so nice for her without her knowing. 

“Yeah, I can do that, I have enough extra plywood,” Jimin seemed just as stunned as Y/N, his yellow eyes wide, straightening up and sticking his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “You’re going tonight, right?”

“You think I’m going to let Y/N waltz into a nightclub without me? Human men are fucking disgusting. She needs us all,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N feeling like her head was swimming. “Besides the humans, drugging and assaulting each other, Hoseok is going to cut loose, so will some of the others, so it’s important someone stays relatively sober. That’s why I’m mad at the kid right now, not wanting to tag along.”

“You mean Jeongguk? I think he’ll go, too. He seems like a tough son of a bitch, but he thinks similarly to you. Isn’t that why you’re close? Isn’t that why he was the only one able to calm you down… that night?” 

Namjoon’s chest rumbled, his ears turning downwards at the mention of the night he and Taehyung had their altercation. 

“I don’t like to think of that night,” Namjoon replied quietly, the constant sway of his tail stilling somberly. “Regardless, I don’t give a shit how Jeongguk feels, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his antlers to the club. He’s going.”

“Y/N spent a lot of money on Hoseok for this,” Jimin scratched his chin sympathetically, strolling to the stack of plywood, his steel-toed boots echoing around the lofty stable. “If he doesn’t go, he’ll make a lot of new enemies around here.”

“Dramatic phrasing,” Namjoon snickered, though as he moved for the first time Y/N had been spying on them, his mouth was in a thin line, evidently agreeing with Jimin. “I wouldn’t say enemies, but between Yoongi, the bear, and Seokjin, grudges would be made.”

Jimin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, Y/N beginning to feel guilty for eavesdropping, and her head was about to explode from the apparent concern Namjoon and Jimin had for her. Y/N was so wrapped up in her own feelings and care for the boys, she forgot to realize that they might hold her well-being in high regard as well. 

Backing up a few steps as quietly as she could, she made some clumsy human noises, skipping into the stable like she hadn’t heard anything. She was proud of herself for not giving herself away with a lovestruck look plastered on her face, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end when she barreled into the building, the tips of his ears turning red. 

“Hi guys, whatcha up to?” Y/N asked innocently, Jimin blinking and dropping the piece of plywood he was holding. 

“Just talking about the garden beds,” Namjoon recovered smoothly, in stark contrast to Jimin’s attempts to seem nonchalant. “What time are we leaving tonight?”

“Ooh, Joonie, you’re going to come?” Y/N continued to play stupid, leaning on one of the empty horse stalls, one that Jimin kept a surplus of hay in. “I think we’ll leave around 9:30. The club doesn’t open until 10 anyways. Jimin, you’ll come too, sweetheart?”

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink, nervously brushing sawdust from his jeans, nodding. It was somewhat hilarious to watch the two of them pretend they weren’t just talking about her, and Y/N wasn’t about to embarrass them by revealing she had been listening on, so she feigned normalcy by picking imaginary lint off of her pink sherpa coat.  

“Of course, Y/N,” Jimin blurted, using the toe of his boot to push the plywood he dropped away, one hand gliding through his golden hair. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Thankfully, once Y/N was able to find Jimin after Seokjin’s declaration the following day when she came home from work, the coyote hybrid had acted totally normal. Having a sneaking suspicion that like Taehyung, and even Seokjin himself, Jimin was a little bit avoidant, she decided if he was going to pretend nothing was different, so would she.

“How are we getting there?” Namjoon cleared his throat, stalking up to her side. 

“I ordered a limo. Just about the only vehicle that can get us somewhere all together,” Y/N smirked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion. Often, she forgot Namjoon wasn’t familiar with things like that. “It’s like a shorter, longer version of your van, kind of. Bench seats and a fridge filled with champagne, and the driver is separated by a partition.”

“Flashy,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N flicking off a clump of hay clinging to his forearm. “Matches the fox’s personality, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a dress code, I figured you two should know that– no athletic wear. Just basic slacks and a nice shirt, essentially.”

“That eliminates half of Hoseok’s wardrobe,” Jimin piped up, his ears twitching when Y/N giggled. 

“Yeah, but he cleans up well,” Y/N could hardly wait to see what Hoseok would pull out of his closet– she had zero doubts he’d look drop dead sexy. “Alright, good. Everyone’s on board! I’m gonna go shower and scrounge up something for dinner later.”

“Dress warmly, the temperature is going to drop later,” Namjoon called after her, a frown on his face. 

“Can’t make any promises, Joonie,” Y/N sent a wink his way, missing the low growl rumbling through his chest, picturing the dress she had bought for the very occasion and sashaying away. 

“She’s going to do as she pleases, isn’t she,” Namjoon muttered to Jimin, who was eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked, but the wolf hybrid had a wry smile stretching across his face. 

Y/N took the opportunity of going out for Hoseok’s birthday to pull out all the stops appearance-wise, and she had to admit to herself, she was doing too well at it. Her makeup was dark and sultry, hair done to utter perfection, and the dress. She saw a picture of it online and bought it so fast she thought her computer was going to catch on fire. Taking a look at herself in the full-length mirror, she admired how lethal her figure looked in the short bodycon dress, legs on display, the off-the-shoulder cut of the neckline showing off the choker Namjoon gave her for Christmas. She was in the middle of strapping her heels around her ankles when a knock came on her door tentatively. Y/N guessed it might have been Taehyung, due to the hesitant sound of the knuckles against the wood. 

Heels clicking against the hardwood, she reached the door, taking a deep breath, nervously wondering what Taehyung would think of her outfit– she had never worn something so revealing around the boys and it had her hands shaking on the doorknob. Throwing it open, Taehyung’s sandalwood cologne hit her smack in the face, his carmine eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw her. Unable to help himself, his gaze lowered, staring at the way the material of her dress clung to every curve, his lips parting. 

“What’s up, Tae?” Y/N blurted, dazzled by his appearance, his dark curls pushed off of his forehead, a silky white button-down with pearls making up the buttons, and straight-leg slacks. Her eyes lingered on the thin gold chain around his throat, her gift to him from Christmas, too bashful to make eye contact all of a sudden. 

“The… the car, the car’s here,” Taehyung was dazed, eyes glued to her legs, Y/N’s mouth drying up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Y/N felt her face fall, Taehyung’s throat bobbing when he swallowed urgently, shaking his head. 

“N-no, it’s fine,” Taehyung’s strained voice had color pooling in her cheeks, blindly reaching behind her so she could grab her clutch. “I’ll get your coat.”

Taehyung darted away, smoke pretty much coming off of his heels, leaving Y/N stunned. Perhaps she had gone a tad overboard with the sexy dress. That aside, his reaction had hope blooming in her chest; if that was his heated reaction to the way she looked, could it be possible that had at least a semblance of an attraction towards her? Squaring her shoulders at the thought, she marched out into the hall confidently, and when she reached the foyer, most of her boys were hanging out around the stairwell, except for Taehyung, who appeared to be fishing around in the coat closet with stiff posture. 

Similar to how they reacted at the cookout when she came out in her sundress, silence swept over the room with her arrival. Jimin’s face was so red she could probably fry an egg on one of his cheeks. Even usually-composed Yoongi’s eyes had gone round, dropping the sports jacket he was holding. Giving her a once over, licking his lips, Yoongi chuckled softly and shook his head. 

“Ready to go? Where’s Hoseok?” Y/N was hoping she wasn’t reading smug, Seokjin frowning when he poked his head around Jeongguk’s frame, heat in his gaze but disapproval mixing with it. 

“Getting shit from the kitchen,” Jeongguk answered blandly, picking his nails. He tried to be nonchalant, but she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. 

“Y/N, it’s really cold outside,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her bare legs, adjusting the collar of his black oxford shirt, a few of the buttons undone. 

“I know, that’s why my arms are covered,” retorted, gesturing to the long sleeves of the dress. “We won’t be outside for long, anyways, and it gets hot in those clubs.”

Seokjin was entirely unconvinced, watching Taehyung emerge from the coat closet, handing Y/N her longest, thickest coat, barely looking at her while she snickered at his selection. Shrugging it on, aware of all of the attention on herself– and for once, she enjoyed it thoroughly. 

“Alright! Got the champagne! Y/N darling, shall we?” Hoseok waltzed in from the kitchen looking all kinds of delicious, in a white suit and a blue silky shirt, a bottle of Moet in one of his hands, using a free one to hook around her elbow and tow her to the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up, wolf!”

Namjoon, waiting by the door, eyeing Y/N’s neck and the choker encircling it, jingled the keys to the house in his fist, and waited for everyone to follow her and Hoseok to the limo waiting outside before he locked up. 

Yoongi made it to her free side with a smirk on his face, Y/N admiring the way he styled his long hair. Hoseok was the first one inside of the limo while Yoongi held Y/N’s hand as she slid in herself, brushing a kiss on the back of it. 

“You look gorgeous,” Yoongi said proudly, sitting beside her, Y/N nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Gonna have to keep my eye on you tonight.”

Hoseok had brought their portable speaker, already jacking up the volume on a rap playlist, grinning wickedly as the rest of the hybrids climbed into the limo. Jeongguk had to pay particular attention to his antlers so he wouldn’t knock them against the ceiling, slouching low on the bench he was on. It was hard not to laugh at his grouchiness as he held onto a champagne flute with a fist, though his saving grace were the leather pants he did indeed put on, highlighting his muscular thighs. 

Last one into the limo was Namjoon, cramming himself in between Jeongguk and Seokjin, the latter of which was directly across from Y/N, his expression more feline than ever, Y/N squirming in her seat under the weight of his gaze. To distract herself, she turned to Hoseok, clinking her glass with his, the fox hybrid pinching her cheek happily. 

“Happy birthday Hoseok!” Y/N cheered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a brief side-hug, careful to not spill her drink on his crisp white sports jacket when the limo started to pull out of the driveway. 

Leaning into her playfully, Hoseok turned up the speaker even louder, Y/N enjoying watching her hybrids loosen up, champagne in hands, and looking forward to a new experience. With Seokjin looking at her like that, however, she didn’t know if she’d make it through the night without pushing him against a wall. 

Music pulsing from the speakers, Y/N already armed with a cocktail, she once again thought that the hefty price tag on the table she bought was worth it when she sunk into the cushy booth with satisfaction. The club, called “The Grand Boston”, was decorated lavishly, had an enormous bar, and was lit up brilliantly. Besides her own hybrids, several of which were ordering drinks at the bar, Y/N was surprised to see others milling around with their humans, which was relieving– not as many eyes on her and the fact that she had seven of them with her. 

“Wanna order a bottle? They have Casamigos, your favorite,” Y/N spoke loudly over the music to her fox hybrid, who was in the middle of taking a shot, his face screwing up as he shoved a lime between his teeth. 

“Nah, they jack up the prices, we can just get a few rounds of shots,” Hoseok replied after a moment, smirking at Jimin sliding into the booth, tumbler of whiskey in his hand. 

“I mean, we might as well get bottle service, Foxy. It’s your birthday and we have this table,” Y/N rolled her eyes, flagging down someone to order the liquor. 

“Oooh, pulling out all the stops for me?” Hoseok teased, flashing her a stunning smile, motioning for Seokjin to join them when the jaguar hybrid returned from the bar with his cocktail, and due to the warm temperature of the club, he had pulled another button loose on his shirt.

With more of his collar bones exposed, Y/N’s mouth involuntarily watered, and to cover it up she immediately poured herself a shot and downed it expertly. Somehow, she felt bad that she was having such thirsty thoughts about sweet Seokjin. Completely oblivious, he placed his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of the Moscow mule, angling the black straw to her lips. Then again, the spark in his eye as her lips wrapped around the straw told a different story, one that had the blood boiling in her veins. 

“Um, the others?” Y/N broke the trance she was in, addressing Jimin. She could see Jeongguk by the bar, forearms leaning against the counter, Namjoon beside him, both of them in deep conversation that probably surrounded their upcoming investigation on Monday. 

“They’re around. Don’t worry, Y/N, they won’t leave without you,” Jimin read her mind, knocking back his drink and watching people head towards the dance floor. 

“Alright. Plan is to get wasted and go dance,” Hoseok began lining up shots, Seokjin snorting beside her. “Don’t laugh at me on my birthday, Jinnie. Here. Cheers!”

Y/N watched, praying she wasn’t being creepy, as Seokjin sprinkled salt on the back of his hand, swiping his tongue over the skin, before he hastily took the shot of tequila with a wince, Y/N hurriedly handing him a lime to suck on. 

After a couple of rounds of shots, Y/N already feeling the liquor loosen her up and ready to dance, Yoongi joined them with his glass of Hennessy, refusing to touch the Casamigos. 

“I can’t do tequila, Foxy. Makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach,” Yoongi frowned when Hoseok slid the shot glass towards him, Seokjin taking it instead. Jimin, at least, participated, his face getting redder by the minute with all the booze. 

“Come on, let’s dance,” Y/N stood, miraculously stable on her heels, hands extended for someone, anyone, to take them, and at once, Hoseok leapt to his feet, palm sliding into hers, motioning for Seokjin to take her free one. 

Seokjin got up, somehow handling all of the tequila incredibly well, Y/N giggling as her fox and jaguar hybrids began to lead her to the dance floor. 

“I’ll stay here and watch,” Yoongi’s sly expression ticked her off, giving her a once-over from behind his glass. Jimin was off to the bathroom and to refresh his whiskey, Y/N thinking it was likely his last round before he totally blacked out. 

Led by Hoseok, who had long since ditched his sports jacket, they weaved through the crowd, Y/N suddenly remembered Seokjin’s aversion to seas of people. Casting him a worried look over her shoulder, Seokjin mouthed ‘I’m fine’, the grip he had on her left hand tightening. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, an extremely sparkly dress a young woman was wearing. 

Trying to get a better look at the shimmering fabric, she paused– the woman was apparently flirting with someone, someone Y/N recognized immediately even if it was just the back of his head. Taehyung, who she hadn’t seen since they stopped by the coat check, was talking to a random girl, something that Y/N assumed the Kodiak hybrid would be way too shy to do. Mouth hanging open, drunken jealousy surging through her as she realized Taehyung could sense her presence via scent  and didn’t even turn to look at her, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he responded to something the woman said. Again, Seokjin squeezed her hand, spinning the two of them slightly so their backs were to Taehyung, Y/N grateful for Seokjin’s keen perceptivity and consideration. 

Facing Hoseok, who finally found a good place in the center of the club, far enough away from the speakers that would blow their eardrums out, Y/N shook away remaining jealousy and focused on the fox hybrid instead, who was doing some kind of silly dance to get her attention. The little number he was doing was in stark contrast to how sexy he looked, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, eyes slightly lidded from the shots, ears drooping. 

“Let’s see what you two got,” Hoseok shouted over the music, and Y/N would have been hesitant if it weren’t for the tequila, but she found herself mirroring Hoseok’s swaying movements, a confident smile on his face. “Come on, Jinnie, weren’t you an acrobat? You must have some moves!”

Y/N shuddered when Seokjin’s chest was suddenly pressed to her back, simply holding her hips while she rolled them, her cheeks on fire while Hoseok cackled, clocking the fluster all over Y/N’s face. It was then, she decided fuck it, both presssing her hips backwards into Seokjin and pulling Hoseok to her by the collar of his shirt, winding her arms around his neck. Seokjin grunted deeply into her ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, while all smug attitude was knocked out of Hoseok in a blink. 

“Out of wisecracks? Dance with me,” Y/N challenged, something flashing dangerously in the fox hybrid’s eyes before his hands were on her waist, copying the movements she made, but careful not to collide his hips into hers. 

Ben always used to warn her to stay away from the tequila, as she tended to get frisky with a few shots of it coursing through her system, but she didn’t care that night. Not when Seokjin’s grip on her hips was firm, letting her essentially grind backwards into him, and Hoseok was looking at her differently for the first time, the way he moved graceful and precise. The world seemed to fall away into neon lights, hypnotic music, and the two hybrids that she was sandwiched between, Y/N really letting loose by letting her head loll back onto Seokjin’s chest, eyes slipping shut. She was too tipsy to be embarrassed about her behavior, and judging by the dark purrs from behind her and the mirth returning to her fox hybrid’s eyes, the two of them were freely enjoying themselves as well. 

“Wanna take another shot,” Y/N murmured after a while, pouting when Hoseok pulled away in favor of watching the light show, his tail swishing, though Seokjin still held her to his chest, his nose tucked into the base of her throat. 

“I think you’re good, pretty,” Seokjin replied, squeezing her hips and turning her around, his palms gliding up to cup her waist, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide her shape nor the way his touch burned her deliciously. “Don’t want to overdo it now, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning up, stamping a kiss on his exposed collarbone in hopes that it would butter him up. His skin was dewy with sweat, Y/N wanting to eat him alive, but she released her hold of his wide shoulders so she could make her way back to the table, and further, the bottle. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice had a sharpened edge of warning to it, following closely behind, navigating through the tipsy crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t come across Taehyung and that girl, but when she remembered the interaction, it only strengthened her desire to hightail it to the table. 

“Judas priest, kiddo,” Jeongguk was lazily reclined in the booth, his feet kicked up on one of the tables like he owned the joint, eyes roaming over her flushed skin, mussed hair, and the scent of alcohol coming off of her like a bar floor. “That’s not a good idea–”

Before any of the hybrids could get to her, including Yoongi who lurched forward to snatch the shot glass away and Jimin’s noises of alarm, Y/N had already poured the shot down her throat, not even feeling the burn of the liquor, batting Yoongi’s hands away when he tried to take the glass. 

“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough,” Yoongi scolded, pushing the bottle of tequila towards Jimin, who swiftly tucked it behind him with a worried look. “You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

“So? I’m celebrating!” Y/N frowned, booping Yoongi’s nose. She wasn’t even slurring, for Christ’s sake, and she could still walk in her heels perfectly. “You’re all being worrywarts, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you sit for a minute, I’ll have the server bring some snacks around,” Yoongi maneuvered Y/N into the booth, her grumbling the entire time, squirming next to Jeongguk. Seokjin went with Yoongi, both of them moving urgently. 

“Fussy babies,” Y/N muttered, scanning the room for Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung, crossing her legs and massaging her sore ankles. “I can hold my liquor.”

“Sometimes,” Jeongguk replied sarcastically, barely looking up from his phone, his fingertips flying over the keyboard. “It’s almost 2 AM. We should go soon, before the club closes.”

“Aw, but did you even get to dance? How about you, Jimin?” Y/N lamented, Hoseok returning from the dance floor, sweat slicking up his forehead when he pushed his damp hair back, a swagger in his step. 

“Do I look like I dance, kiddo?” Jeongguk scoffed, draining his glass, setting his phone aside. “Time to head out, fox.”

“Yeah, the crowd is dwindling anyways. I’m ready to raid the fridge and pass out,” Hoseok grabbed his jacket that was slung over the booth, Jimin excusing himself to pay the tab and look for Taehyung. 

“We can have some of your birthday cake!” Y/N exclaimed, suddenly less disappointed about going home if it meant she could have something sugary. “Awh, where’s Joon bug? He’ll want some cake too, I wanna tell him!”

“12 ‘o clock, darling,” Hoseok pointed beyond her shoulder, Namjoon trudging back to the booth with his jean jacket pulled around him, Y/N’s coat in his hands. Surprisingly, he seemed like the most sober of the bunch, offering her her coat with purpose. 

“I talked to the driver outside, he’s ready when we are,” Namjoon announced, Y/N struggling to shrug her coat on while sitting down, Jeongguk clicking his tongue and helping her right arm through the sleeve. 

“What about Tae, though?” To her embarrassment, Y/N’s head began to feel like it was floating, that last shot definitely a mistake like Jeongguk had said, as much as she hated to admit it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she barely reacted when Yoongi dropped a bag of mini pretzels in her lap, stomach turning at the thought of chewing. 

“Already outside, Y/N. Can you walk?” Namjoon made a motion for the rest of the hybrids to start heading towards the door with authority, Seokjin kissing the top of her head before he made sure Hoseok was going in the right direction. 

“Yesss, I can walk, Joonie,” Y/N grouched, hauling herself to her feet, but unfortunately, her knees buckled. Cursing, Namjoon caught her swiftly before she could collapse on the floor, strong arms supporting her weight, Y/N limp. 

“That’s a no, then,” Namjoon sighed, bending his knees, slinging Y/N over his shoulder in one smooth movement. Y/N squealed, scrabbling for a hold on the back of his jacket and staring at the floor, thankfully not getting violently nauseous as her world was turned upside-down and the wolf hybrid started walking. “Thank god I’m here. I hope you didn’t party like this in college, Y/N, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m currently b-breathing, aren’t I, Joon? Put me down, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N whined, whacking his back with her palms. Namjoon, however, was known to be unyielding. He promptly ignored her complaints, her strikes against his muscled back useless and truthfully, pathetic. 

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those shoes. Your ankles are swelling,” Namjoon grunted, her heated face meeting some relief in the icy night air, the sounds of drunk clubgoers up and down the sidewalk. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“And you’re not, Namjoon?” Y/N squawked, astonished. However, Namjoon chuckled quietly, finally setting her down in front of the waiting limo, one broad palm on her lower back to help keep her upright while climbing in. 

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Namjoon replied offhand, clambering in behind her, the rest of the boys in various states of intoxication and exhaustion. “Are there sick bags in here?” 

Namjoon was speaking to Yoongi, who was apparently the only one sober enough to have spatial awareness, even Jeongguk nodding off in the far end of the limo, the leopard hybrid waving a paper bag in front of Namjoon’s face. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were cracking open another bottle of champagne, while Taehyung was busy on his phone, presumably texting; Y/N dreaded to know exactly who. 

“I’m not going to get sick, dad,” Y/N poked Namjoon in the bicep, peeved, the wolf hybrid choking on the sip of water he had taken, his fist pounding on his chest to clear the liquid from his lungs. Not expecting that reaction, Y/N felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, poking him again before setting her sights on Yoongi.

“What’s with that look?” Yoongi asked suspiciously, Y/N biting her lip, clumsily pouncing on him, sitting on one of his thighs and giving him a sloppy smooch on his cheek. “Oh boy. No more Casamigos for you, ever.”

“Angel, my feet hurt,” Y/N’s vision was fuzzy, supported by Yoongi’s arm around her back, the leopard hybrid letting her bury her face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, his tail caressing her bare calves.

Without asking, Yoongi exhaled, gripping one of her ankles gingerly and unfastening the straps around them. Easing each shoe off her foot as carefully as he could, Yoongi placed them in between him and Taehyung, who paused his texting to assess the spectacle. The Kodiak hybrid’s eyes lingered on the way Yoongi was prodding lightly around her swelling ankles to release pressure, but when he caught Y/N staring back at him, he returned to his phone with his tongue in his cheek. 

Petulance took over, so instead of letting Taehyung’s iciness bother her, she focused on Yoongi’s touch, sighing blissfully, his talented hands kneading into her sore muscles, purring softly behind her. She was half asleep when something dawned on her, shooting straight up from Yoongi’s lap with an exclamation, looking around frantically for her clutch. 

“Looking for this?” Namjoon held it up, his eyebrows raised, sucking in his cheeks. 

Making grabby hands for it, Y/N thanked him quietly for keeping an eye on all of her things, before she clumsily maneuvered to the back of the limo where Hoseok was. Jeongguk was still drowsily trying to stay awake, his head bobbing, but Jimin had passed out finally. Hoseok and Seokjin switched to water, luckily, so when she took a seat beside her fox hybrid, he was a touch more sober than he was 15 minutes prior.

“How are you doing, darling?” Hoseok’s face was rounded out in sleep, content all over it.

“I forgot to give you this,” Y/N began digging around in her clutch, Hoseok sitting up a bit straighter and making a strange, fox-like noise in the back of his throat. “Seokjinnie got you something, remember, Jin?”

Seokjin had also apparently forgotten, blinking harshly. Finding the item at the bottom of the clutch, a tiny rectangular box, she opened it, handing Hoseok a silver bracelet, the chain link the exact same as the one Seokjin had on his ring. Seokjin had the adorable idea of getting them something that matched in some way, and Y/N had no problems letting the jaguar hybrid pick it out. 

Hoseok was at a loss, holding the bracelet with his mouth open, Y/N stifling a laugh at his reaction. Seokjin shifted in his seat across from them, amused but also vulnerable. 

“Jinnie, is this like a friendship bracelet?” Hoseok deadpanned, radiant joy coming off of him. 

“Uh-huh. Happy birthday,” Seokjin broke out in a grin, Y/N’s heart warm with how sweet their close friendship was, Hoseok demanding the jaguar hybrid to clasp it around his wrist. “You two mean a lot to me.”

“Aw, Jinnie, you’re like my big brother,” Hoseok cooed, Seokjin rolling his eyes, but Y/N knew how profound those words were to Hoseok. The fox hybrid spent years in many places, never able to put down roots, much less make close friendships. “And you’re my little darling.”

Hoseok grabbed both of them, smushing themselves together for a group hug, Y/N finally releasing a hearty laugh that startled Jimin awake beside her, knowing that the tears slipping down her cheeks were tears of happiness.

After a brutal Sunday of recovering from the tequila binge, Y/N spending most of the day laying on the couch and watching reality TV with greasy pizza, she was well again on Monday, the day of the investigation. She had to drag Jeongguk to work with her that day, Namjoon of course itching to go without complaint. It was nice to have the two of them with her while she stocked inventory, Namjoon able to reach higher shelves and Jeongguk sorting through the Christian medallions in a way that made sense. While those two were more quiet than, say, Hoseok, there was still amiable conversation here and there. Y/N had a feeling Jeongguk, in particular, was gearing up for later that evening, gazing out the shop window every once in a while to stare at the van. 

“Our plan is solid. I’ll handle the cameras, Namjoon is on the audio recording devices, and Y/N, I’m going to give you the EMF detector and communication devices, since you’re adept with sensing energies,” Jeongguk assured her and Namjoon, the sun beginning to go down as the three of them brought equipment into the Sanders’ home. 

The family had left for the hotel that morning, and would be staying there until Y/N and the two hybrids could successfully banish the entity. The house was cold, and eerily quiet, and Y/N was grateful that she had black tourmaline necklaces for the three of them as an added layer of protection. While she was somewhat anxious about the investigation, there was immense comfort in having Namjoon and Jeongguk with her. Namjoon was protective, which became clearer to her by the day, and Jeongguk was nearly fearless. 

“How long do you think the investigation will last?” Y/N questioned, wondering if it would be anything like what she had seen on television. 

“However long it takes for us to get enough evidence,” Jeongguk shrugged, on his knees and setting up a tripod facing the hallway, where Erika mentioned seeing a shadow figure several times. 

“Good thing we brought the Red Bull,” Y/N joked, placing a few clear quartz crystals around the living room, Namjoon on the couch with her laptop booting up the software they’d need for audio recording and reviewing footage. “You’re gonna teach me how to use these devices, right, sweets?”

“Obviously,” Jeongguk snorted, attaching one of the cameras to the tripod. “It’s straightforward though, not many buttons to press. Then you can ask your questions you wrote down. Namjoon will be right beside you, recording audio.”

Jeongguk, dressed in all black, pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing those tattoos that Y/N never fully got a good look at. While he was prickly about explaining everything to Y/N, he did it thoroughly, and it was interesting to watch the elk hybrid drop into total concentration on a particular task. Y/N decided to take a walk through the small house, not sensing much on the first floor other than that odd feeling of being watched through the living room window. It was when she climbed the stairs to the three bedrooms where there was a chill rolling down her spine. 

The master bedroom, where Erika slept– and her son, too, when he had his nightmares, had a sadness, a tense anxious feel to it. Putting selenite on all of the window sills, she stopped when she saw a photo sitting on Erika’s nightstand. It was the young mother, looking vibrant and happy in comparison to how nervous she was when Y/N met her. The young boy, too, was grinning without purplish circles under his eyes. Most noticeably different was the daughter, Julie, who was a few years younger and not wearing the gothic garb she had during their initial consultation. Sighing, she hoped that the family could be at ease again once her and the boys helped them.

Moving down the hall, hands coming up to rub her shivering arms, she peeked into the boy’s bedroom, nearly choking at the heaviness of the energy in there. Y/N refused to go in there without one of her hybrids with her. Nauseous, she tentatively made her way to the final bedroom, Julie’s. 

The room was painted pink, but most of the walls were covered in pop punk posters. As for the energy, it was different from the solid wall of darkness in Tommy’s room, but it still made her feel sick and again, like someone was watching her. Visually sweeping the room as Jeongguk suggested, looking for any occultish items such as a Ouija board, but not actively going through the teenager’s stuff. 

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she stiffened when an ice-cold draft filled the room, penetrating her body in a way that had her skin crawling. Dread filled her, resentment, and anger. Panicking, turning every which way to see if she could spot something physically manifesting, the thump-thump-thump against the walls returning. Whimpering, she sped out of the room, chest heaving, thundering down the stairs and startling Jeongguk, who was placing special lights around in the hallway. 

Y/N smacked directly into his chest, quaking, clinging to his sweater for dear life and desperate to get rid of that supernatural coldness that pierced through her. Jeongguk grunted, letting her hide from the world in his sweater, his heart hammering steadily beneath her. 

“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Jeongguk’s hands were hesitant when he patted her on the back, but there was a clear alarm in his voice.

 Namjoon’s clumsy, heavy tread was immediately thudding down the hall with urgency, Y/N releasing Jeongguk with embarrassment. Her reaction to that phenomena wasn’t exactly a great start to their investigation, establishing zero dominance over the entity, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. While Jeongguk was alarmed, Namjoon was calm, hands on her shoulders so he could duck his head and make eye-contact. 

“Take a few deep breaths, Y/N,” Namjoon’s eyebrows were pinched, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “That’s it.”

After a couple of lungfuls of air, she was able to stop shaking underneath Namjoon’s palms, the wolf hybrid letting her go as soon as she calmed down. Both of them were waiting expectantly for her to relay what had happened, and Y/N felt like the presence was at the top of the stairs and watching them. 

“I think we should focus on the second floor,” Y/N said weakly, Namjoon’s orange honey eyes shifting from her face to the stairs, his blank expression giving nothing away. If anything, it was nice to have the both of them there, confident and collected. “Especially in the children’s bedrooms. I didn’t go into the boy’s bedroom, the energy was too thick and without one of you–” I was too scared. “Something manifested in the teenager’s room, like an ice-cold draft that ran right through me. Then the knocking on the walls started up again.”

Jeongguk leaned a hip against the banister, making intense eye-contact with Y/N, like he was attempting to soak in every word with grave seriousness. Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, making an animalistic grunt, and with a nod, he agreed. 

“So our key spots. The kid’s bedrooms, the window in the living room, and this hallway,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’ll go upstairs and set up more equipment. Now that you have more of an idea of what the energy feels like up there, you should write down some more questions to ask later. You’ll be alright, center yourself.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, hoping she wasn’t being the weakest link. “You’re going to go up by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeongguk had said that before, but him saying that did absolutely nothing to prevent her from worrying anyway. “Let’s just finish setting up, and we’ll start recording when it’s dark out.”

She followed Namjoon like a lost duckling back into the living room, Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he continued to boot up his software. Taking a moment, she centered herself, eyes shut, focusing on breathing and her connection to the Earth. 

“Remember why we’re here,” Namjoon said softly when she opened her eyes again, most of her fear and anxiety dissolving after centering. 

“For the family,” Y/N finished for him, Namjoon giving her knee a soft squeeze, his bitten ear flickering. 

“Do the lights really have to be off? Y/N doesn’t have night vision,” Namjoon asked a quarter after midnight, all of his audio equipment prepped and ready, including his tapes on the coffee table– their “base”. 

“I mean, if you want to be able to see anything on these full-spectrum cameras,” Jeongguk replied, promptly switching off the last lamp that offered Y/N vision in the house. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you kiddo?”

“If you have time to be an ass, you have time to get to work,” Y/N hissed, brushing by him with the device she had just learned how to use in her hand. That particular device, a “Spirit Box”, would fill the room with white noise, and somehow capture voices they couldn’t hear if the spirits responded to Y/N’s questions. 

While she did that in front of a camera set up in front of the living room window, Jeongguk was using his handheld camcorder, taking temperatures around all of the spots in the house. Thankfully, Namjoon would stay with her, helping her make out any sounds or words they could potentially capture. Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair beneath the window, Namjoon just a few feet away on the couch, the low light of the laptop illuminating his face and making his eyes glow. 

“I’m gonna take the temperatures upstairs,” Jeongguk’s voice was far away, probably already halfway to his destination, Y/N exhaling slowly as Namjoon gave her a thumbs-up; he had begun recording. She had already memorized her list of basic questions, so she switched the Spirit Box on, cringing at the gnashing sound echoing around the house. 

“Is there anyone here that wishes to speak with us?” Y/N began, feeling a little foolish, but pushing down the feeling swiftly. All she heard in response was the white noise, unfortunately. 

“What is your name?”

Nothing. 

“How old are you?”

Nothing, again. 

“Why are you here?”

Then, there was a disruption in the static, something garbly coming through, Y/N’s eyes lighting up as Namjoon began typing on the laptop. 

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

Growing a little excited, now understanding why Jeongguk was so into these devices, the static was interrupted once more, a frightening but unintelligible response captured through the Spirit Box. 

“Who lives here?”

Before Y/N could get too riled up, the rest of her questions received no response, so she and Namjoon elected to move into the hall, trading places with Jeongguk, who was taking pictures of the window and using thermal imaging on the area. 

It continued like that for about two more hours, repeating the interview with Namjoon multiple times with the Spirit Box and the EMF detector, the wolf hybrid letting her hold his hand when they were in Tommy’s room. The sounds of the voice that did come through in that space were particularly bone-chilling and grating. The last room, Julie’s room, only yielded one response that was reedy and low, Y/N ready to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as the interview concluded. 

Reconvening downstairs, Jeongguk was starting to pack up equipment, and thankfully, he turned on a light or two. He looked charged, like new life was breathed into him. Investigations such as that one must have been his life’s passion, because Y/N hadn’t seen him like that, well, ever. Her and Namjoon were silent as they helped the elk hybrid gather everything up, and while Namjoon seemed calm, she could tell he was on edge due to some of the audio they captured together. 

“Get anything?” Jeongguk pushed the last box of cameras into Namjoon’s van, Y/N wilting with exhaustion and nerves, watching her wolf hybrid lock the front door of the Sanders’ house with stiff shoulders, tape recorder under his arm. “We’ll review everything, but I’m pretty sure I captured some anomalies.”

“We had a few responses. Namjoon said he’d put the audio in a program music producers use to try and clarify what we were able to catch. There is definitely more than one entity we’re working with here,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair tiredly. 

“Hmm, you’re right,” Jeongguk let her get into the van first, Y/N buckling herself into the passenger seat, thanking the sky she had the next day off. It was nearly five in the morning, and her eyes were crossing. “You did well, Y/N.”

“You too, sweets. You were in your element, huh?” 

“I guess,” Jeongguk sobered up, toning down his excitement, Namjoon getting into the driver’s seat heavily, passing a hand over his face. 

“Let’s get out of here, I’m drained,” Namjoon pulled out of the driveway, Y/N’s teeth unclenching when he switched on some folksy music and they got away from the house. 

“You two are going to need to take some baths when we get back, right away. With that salt I gave you, I don’t want the risk of anything clinging to us,” Y/N leaned her head back, hearing Jeongguk still tinkering away with an electronic in the back of the van. 

Namjoon hummed, too tired to respond, but she knew he’d listen to her. Once she explained the importance of making sure they were all properly spiritually cleansed, he hadn’t had a single complaint obeying her requests to take salt baths or enduring Y/N waving rosemary smoke around him. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was a toss up. 

All Y/N knew was that she wasn’t exactly eager to find out what the entities were saying to her. Judging by the nastiness of some of the voices they captured, she doubted it was anything friendly. Namjoon said he’d take care of the audio over the course of the week, and Jeongguk was going to comb through his videos, data, and photos as well. All Y/N had to do was sit with the energies she felt and perhaps come up with some kind of plan for cleansings and banishment. Trying to find the moon in the sky, Y/N counted street lights until they were back at their own home, and there was a collective breath of relief from the three of them when they were safe inside. 

Before she knew it, it was the end of the week, the day she and Seokjin planned their date. Y/N had come up with something special to do with him during the evening, and she knew they weren’t going to be bothered, she made sure of it. With Namjoon and Jeongguk holed up in the van poring over their evidence still; Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok at the rec center for their clubs, and Jimin outside putting the garden beds together on the finally-thawing ground, they were pretty much by themselves. She was in Seokjin’s bedroom, the lamps dimmed low, and her jaguar hybrid was somewhere in the kitchen, claiming he was making something for them to snack on. Y/N didn’t tell Seokjin what her plan was for them, wanting a nice surprise, so as quickly as she could, she dumped the materials she needed on his neatly made bed. 

There was an old white topsheet she found in the depths of one of the linen closets, Y/N shaking it out and tying it to tops of the front two bedposts. The fabric fell, making a large “screen” at the foot of the bed, and with that done in a pinch, she hooked up the mini projector she got on Amazon and stuck it on the shelf behind Seokjin’s headboard. 

A cozy, quiet movie night was something she thought Seokjin would enjoy. Meaning to watch Lord of the Rings with him, she had the boxed CD set ready to go, even if they’d probably only get through one of the movies due to the length. Satisfied, she sped into his bathroom, changing into her pajamas– a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It was likely she’d end up sleeping next to Seokjin that night, so she decided she might as well get comfortable. She was tossing her clothes in his hamper when the sounds of the jaguar hybrid shuffling into his bedroom filled her ears, Y/N smiling at her reflection in his mirror and going out to meet him. 

Seokjin, with a curious flicker to his ear, was staring at the sheet she hung, setting a tray down with various snacks and drinks, and of course, a few slabs of the bread he baked that morning. Skipping to his side, Seokjin whirled around, cheeks coloring with how little clothing she was wearing. Seokjin wasn’t a fan of the cold, so his room was always boiling with space heaters going, so she wasn’t about to wear flannel pajamas. 

“Pretty, why’d you tie that sheet there?” Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his thin tee-shirt by the collar, averting his eyes. 

“So we could watch a movie together, I got a projector online. Do you like the sound of that?” Y/N asked, a touch self consciously, sitting on his bed and looking at the tray he brought up. With a pounding heart, she realized most of the snacks he prepared were her favorites. 

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Seokjin insisted, knees landing on the bed softly, fluffing his pillows and moving the stuffed alpaca aside so he could sit against the headboard. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Well, all those months ago, I mentioned wanting to watch Lord of the Rings with you. How about that?”

Seokjin, his bright eyes widening, replayed the memory in his head– when he was recovering from his fever, the day Y/N adopted him, she had lent him that book. He was nodding at once, watching Y/N grin and get on all fours, sliding a disc into the projector, adjusting the volume. He didn’t know if she felt how charged the air felt, tucking her hair behind her ear as she navigated the movie’s menu, his eyes skimming over her figure indulgently. The beginning credits began to roll, the projector displaying the title card of the film pretty well, Seokjin realizing that was why Y/N had dimmed the lights so low. 

Y/N got comfortable beside Seokjin at once, curling into his side and tucking herself under his arm, one of hers thrown across his waist. Reminded of a kitten getting cozy in her bed, Seokjin purred, fingertips dancing along her upper arm, the skin like warm silk. 

“I… never asked you this, but when I gave you this book, you seemed emotional. Can I ask you why, honey?” Y/N was thoroughly enjoying Seokjin stroking her arm with reverence, his chin resting on top of her head. 

“Oh, I suppose that was kind of odd to you at the time,” Seokjin replied, focusing more on her than the movie in the background. Movies never really compared to books, anyways. “It’s just something that I remember… a young kid I grew up with telling me about. You know I’m not a big adventurer, but reading about it, seeing it, I’m comfortable with. Nostalgia sometimes gets to me, that’s all.”

“That’s why you’re so sweet,” Y/N hummed, her breath fanning over his neck, Seokjin giggling at her words. “I felt so bad that day, I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“You didn’t, you just reminded me that sometimes the world is smaller than I think it is,” Seokjin’s touch migrated to her shoulders, lowly hissing at the tightness in the muscles, Y/N wincing when he pressed over them. “Come here.”

Seokjin cupped her waist, spreading his legs carefully, before rolling her over so she was seated between his thighs, back pressed to his chest. Y/N went stiff, the opposite of what he was trying to do, so he gave her a reassuring, chaste kiss to the crown of her head, pressing his thumbs into the tender sides of her neck. Shuddering when Seokjin dug the digits into two knots that have been giving her grief the entire week, she went limp immediately, not knowing where to put her own hands– settling them idly on her lap. 

“You’re tense, let me help you,” Seokjin murmured, Y/N surrounded by his eucalyptus scent, and having him care for her was better than any spa treatment. “You’ve been working too hard, pretty.”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N protested, melting backwards, the sturdiness of his chest actually quite surprising. “Not true– oh.”

Seokjin hit a particularly tender spot, her tight trapezius muscle, and he was seemingly chuckling as he massaged the flesh sensually. He didn’t make a smart retort, even though he could have, but instead he focused on working out every single kink in her neck. 

“How did you get so good at this?” Y/N was choking back moans, at that point, barely paying attention to the movie, her temperature rising in the toasty bedroom. 

“Well, when I was a performer, I’d have to tend to my own knots and strains,” Seokjin responded, sweeping her hair aside so he could press on either side of her upper spine, Y/N involuntarily arching away from him with a strained whine– one that had heat rising to his cheeks, shamefully. “Guess the skill is finally coming in handy.”

“Seokjin,” Y/N breathed, and the jaguar hybrid thought he heard a slight edge of warning to it, like she was accusing him of being cheeky. After so long, he couldn’t help it. 

A few moments went by mostly in silence– apart from the movie’s dialogue and score, and a tiny yelp from Y/N once or twice. Seokjin, even though he couldn’t stand feeling cold, was truthfully getting warm himself, Y/N so pliant in front of him, her hands subconsciously finding purchase on his knees as he worked her back. 

“B-baby, I think I’m g-good, uh–” Y/N’s breathing became labored, heat striking through her as he continued the massage under her shoulder blades. “Oh fuck.”

Apparently a very sore spot, Seokjin dug his fingers into her skin with more intensity, and embarrassingly so, Y/N let out a thin, pleading whine, Seokjin’s spine going rigid at the sound. 

“Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, his voice becoming siren-like again, moving to the other shoulder blade and eliciting a similar sound from her. 

“W-what do you think?” Y/N was out of oxygen, two seconds away from pinning him to the headboard, Seokjin’s laughter rumbly and deep. “I don’t know if I want you to stop or to–”

Y/N was shamefully turned on at that point. It was hard not to be, she thought, between his proximity and his hands working her into a boneless puddle. Still chuckling, Seokjin removed one of his hands, reaching for the tray on the bed, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and offering it to Y/N, fingers poised before her lips. 

Instead of eating it, Y/N looked over her shoulder, face flushed and pupils blown out, an accusatory expression lighting up her features. 

“You didn’t mention you’re some sort of Casanova,” Y/N mumbled, overwhelmed by that romantic side of her jaguar hybrid, his ears fluttering playfully. Instead of feeding her, Seokjin ate the strawberry himself, the cool juices of the fruit spilling over his chin and down his neck, Y/N’s sight zeroing in on that visual. “Jesus Christ.”

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin teased once he swallowed the fruit, forcibly turning her back around so he could continue the massage, Y/N freezing when he not only laid his palms on her shoulders again, but his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her spine tenderly, his lips soothing her feverish flesh from the cold fruit he ate.

“Are you aware of how gorgeous you are, Seokjin? It’s borderline disturbingly wrong,” Y/N grouched, squeezing his knees, Seokjin freezing behind her before cracking up into hysterics, arms winding around her middle tightly, sponging kisses along her shoulders in between laughter. “You’re literally a doll!”

Despite his laughter, Y/N could feel his heart speeding up with her words, chest still flush with her back, and she debated whether or not to shut the movie off and just straddle him at that point. Suddenly aware that her panties were starting to get a bit damp, Y/N cursed herself inwardly, not believing how little it took to turn her on. She wondered if the jaguar hybrid could smell it, his sleek black tail laying heavily on one of her bare thighs. Boldly, while Seokjin kneaded her flesh again, she traced her fingers over the silky fur of his tail out of curiosity, Seokjin whimpering behind her, movements freezing. 

The atmosphere shifted instantly. She hadn’t gone as far as to touch Yoongi’s tail yet, but with Seokjin’s right in front of her, it was hard to resist stroking through the fur. In consequence, Seokjin’s fingers danced over the straps of her tank top, running his index fingers along the lace. 

“Can I… move these just a bit?” Seokjin fiddled with the material, Y/N nodding straight away, hurrying up the process by sliding one of the straps around her bicep, eager for him to tend to her aching shoulders, craving his touch. With a soft intake of air, Seokjin copied her movements on the other side, one hand gliding over the entirety of her exposed upper back, seemingly feeling for more points of tension. 

Still stroking through the fur of his tail, her other hand gripping his quilt with pale knuckles, Y/N bit down on her lip when Seokjin rolled his knuckles against her tender skin. Betting every last dollar in her bank account that neither of them gave a single shit what was happening in the movie still playing in front of them, Seokjin used one hand to grab the tray of food on the bed and move it to one of his nightstands distractedly, bending his knees so his feet were flat against the quilt and he could better cage Y/N in. 

However, with Seokjin’s movements, Y/N scooching up on the bed to press closer to him, her tank top straps fell to the crooks of her elbows, her eyes shooting wide open as the garment bunched around her waist– and she was not wearing a bra in that moment. 

There was a pause, Seokjin’s broad body crooking over hers from behind, where nothing was audible but sounds from the movie. Seokjin was staring at the entirety of her bare back, also realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her tank top, but he was unable to help himself by gliding his hands from the small of her waist up to her mid-back. The action was smooth, Y/N’s skin somewhat slick with perspiration, Seokjin’s mouth watering. He always considered himself a man of patience, but there was something primal brewing within him, something that was difficult to control. 

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice was but a breeze in the wind, experimentally digging his fingertips into the base of her spine, relishing in the thready moan she offered to him, one of her forearms pressed over her breasts to preserve her modesty– Seokjin could smell both her arousal and bashfulness filling up the room thickly. “Are you alright?’”

“Keep touching me,” was all Y/N responded with, leaning backwards and removing her arm from her chest, Seokjin focusing straight ahead at the movie blindly. 

“How so, pretty girl?” Seokjin groaned, wrecked, his nose tucked into the base of her throat, not moving until she vocalized. 

“All over, anywhere,” Y/N whimpered, gasping when Seokjin’s hands snaked around her middle, skimming over her tummy, the jaguar hybrid’s resolve finally dissolving, his lips latching around the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Honey…”

Sucking her flesh into his mouth sensually, Seokjin felt blood rushing to his crotch, the taste of her skin so addicting, he swore he was high. It was the taste of her, yes, that was causing him to descend into a lust-driven frenzy, but also the scent of her love, the scent of her arousal, that was egging him on. Still, the human side of his brain begged him to see through the fog. 

“You’re sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Jin, please,” Y/N had annoyance dripping in her tone, one of her palms covering his on her abdomen, guiding it up to her sternum. “Love you, and I want you.”

A switch flipped within Seokjin, one he didn’t know existed, and he stroked the naked sides of her waist with hunger, resuming his task of decorating the slope of her neck with love bites, a strangled noise leaving his throat when Y/N shifted her hips backwards; flush to his. 

He was reminded of the previous weekend, Y/N in that dress, grinding into him with carefree abandon– and how he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom before they left to stick his face under the icy tap. He felt perverted, out of control– but a distant, animalistic side of him was saying “she’s the one, the only one” which was enough for him to want to stake his claim. 

Seokjin grasped the material of her tank top pooling around her waist, pulling it over her head with care. Once Y/N was free, she keened at the feeling of Seokjin suckling a bruise beneath her earlobe, his hardness pressing up against her ass, the sensation drenching her underwear thoroughly and anticipation climbing to Everest. 

Silently, Seokjin nipped the shell of her ear with his sharpened teeth, and before Y/N could fully process that, he was cradling her chest, the weight of her tits in his palms having him groaning and pressing his hips against her ass even more firmly. He had never been so turned on in his life, Y/N totally caged in his embrace, wanting and receptive to everything he had to offer her. This, this, was everything he was waiting to feel his entire life, and he could hardly think straight– Y/N semi-consciously whacking the projector, muting the movie miraculously in favor of hearing the noises Seokjin could make. 

Seokjin, caught in a spell, hooked his chin over Y/N’s shoulder, not caring that his back was aching from the prolonged arch, her breasts still cupped in his hands. Experimentally, he pressed them together, finally peering at her exposed chest, his throat rather dry at the sight as he soaked in both her heaving into his grasp, and the marks he had left on the side of her throat and shoulder. Skin lighting up with heat, one of her hands flailed backwards, clawing at Seokjin’s hip– now aware that he was very much completely clothed, all Y/N wanted was his bare skin against hers. 

“Easy, kitten,” Seokjin ground out, her fingernails cutting into his flesh even through the material of his sweatpants, Y/N hardly recognizing his hypnotic voice as it reached her ears centimeters away, and what he called her having her lax in his grip like prey. 

Her tits still in his palms, lips heavy on her neck, Y/N was about to melt into his mattress completely– breath stolen from her lungs when the jaguar hybrid teasingly swiped his thumbs over her nipples, erect with all of the slow teasing, the sensation sharp and having her jolt in the cage– made out of his limbs– he had trapped her in. 

“Tease,” Y/N managed due to the way his forefinger and thumb tweaked the buds, Y/N nearly passing out as he promptly slicked up the fingers of his right hand by sticking them in his mouth. “Jin–”

“Shush,” Seokjin returned, using his dampened digits to roll her right nipple between them, completely entranced. At that point, he felt himself leaking somewhat into his boxers, toying with Y/N’s chest until she was a mess in his lap, peering over her shoulder to see how her body reacted to his touch. “If you let me, I’ll make you feel good. But I want you to listen to me, is that okay?”

Y/N nodded desperately, but it wasn’t enough of a confirmation for Seokjin. 

“Mmm-hmm! Yes, Seokjin, I-I– hnngh,” Y/N yelped when he kneaded the sensitive flesh of her breasts again. 

“Okay then, lean on me,” Seokjin sucked yet another bruise into the side of Y/N’s throat, enjoying working her up. “You– mmph–”

Y/N had turned her head, seeking out his mouth, eagerly slotting her lips against his with desperation. His arms automatically wrapped around her again, one forearm slung low on her writhing hips, the other barred across her chest, letting her kiss him with abandon. She had wanted to kiss him like that for weeks, swiping her tongue along the seam of his mouth, Seokjin’s lips parting slightly and granting her access. A deep, indulgent moan came from her as she tasted him, sweet like the strawberry he just ate, still clawing at his clothed hips when her tongue slid against his. In return, Seokjin hummed, kissing her back just as freely, letting her take control for a moment. Though, while she was distracted, Seokjin began to fiddle with the waistband of her pajama shorts, a grunt tearing through him when she jerked her hips backwards. 

Breaking away from their kiss, Seokjin was transfixed, Y/N attempting to keep her control by going for his neck, even though the twisted position of her body was uncomfortable. Lapping at the sticky trail of strawberry juice along his Adam's apple, Seokjin shuddered at the feeling, her teeth scraping against his throat before she sunk them in, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull. 

Taking matters into her own hands, Y/N managed to wiggle out of her shorts, a hand breaking away from Seokjin’s hips, tossing them carelessly off the bed. The jaguar hybrid, sounding utterly fucked out already, tipped his head back and moaned when her ass collided with his lap again. At that point, with the scent of her wetness becoming so concentrated, Seokjin snapped, growling, dangerously, Y/N blinking up at him at once. 

“Face forward and watch the movie, pretty,” Seokjin ordered, Y/N’s head spinning. If he didn’t want to continue, that was fine, but she was pretty much naked and she wasn’t about to watch Hobbits traipse through the mud like that. However, that wasn’t the case, Seokjin hooking his chin over her kiss-bitten shoulder, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her panties. “Oh. Did you wear these for me?”

Looking down, confused and still driven crazy by lust, Y/N’s mouth dropped open. Subconsciously, she must have picked out the pink pair of panties Seokjin was teasing her with when they were folding laundry, the gusset of the fabric completely soaked. Lolling her head back against his chest, she looked at him pleadingly, the feeling of him tracing her hip bones driving her insane. 

“Aw, poor thing,” Seokjin cooed, kissing her temple with a derisive smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Seokjin stripped her of her panties in a flash, stuffing the garment into the pocket of his sweatpants, Y/N mewling, turned on by the fact that she was completely bare before him, and he hadn’t shed a single article of clothing. Without wasting too much time, his mouth on her neck again, Seokjin grabbed a hold onto her thighs and propped them up, his breath quickening at the fresh wave of her arousal that surrounded him. Again, Y/N grappled for his tail, just about the only thing she could do wrapped up in his arms like that, cunt clenching around nothing when he moaned hollowly, the appendage curling around her wrist. 

Finally, Seokjin ghosted his fingers over where she needed him most, cursing at the wetness that gathered there abundantly, Y/N’s hips bucking over his lap with a cry. Cunt pulsing with his touch, Seokjin bit his lip, parting her dewy folds, the slick sound making Y/N cringe. He didn’t want to tease her too much, she was practically dripping onto his quilt, free hand coming up to pinch a nipple as his index finger made a slow circle around her clit simultaneously. 

The action elicited a great reward. Y/N’s spine arched, crying out his name, more wetness gushing out of her. Cooing again, Seokjin kept circling the sweet spot, loving the sounds she made for him, hardly noticing she was scraping her nails against his sensitive tail. 

“So wet, kitten,” Seokjin purred, slowly working her up, Y/N’s gut tightening at his dulcet tone, hardly here nor there. 

“Feels so good,” Y/N thrashed, stomach flipping over when the movement had his cock pressed right against the seam of her ass. “Ah!” 

Seokjin groaned, ignoring his own pleasure in favor of finding her’s, testing the waters by teasing a fingertip around her fluttering entrance. Hearing her pleas, he sunk the digit into her, whimpering at the way she clamped down on him. Y/N rocked her hips, essentially riding his finger, the visual erotic and making him hiss darkly. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Seokjin encouraged, gripping the side of her waist to aid her desperate movements. “Use me.”

Helping her out, he began to snap his wrist against her, curling his finger and pressing against the front of her walls, Y/N swore she could have died, so crammed full of desire for the jaguar hybrid it was driving her insane. 

“M-more, please,” Y/N begged, grinding against his hand, leaking all over him. 

“Spoiled little girl,” Seokjin taunted, but despite the jab, he added another digit into the mix while she rode his fingers, his thumb toying with her clit as she felt herself barreling towards her orgasm. “Gonna need to stretch you out, anyways, kitten.”

Gasping, his dirty words was all she needed, her sudden orgasm taking Seokjin by surprise as she wailed in his arms, walls spasming around his fingers as he continued to fuck them into her. The lewd sounds of her wetness had his ears ringing, wanting to taste the mess she made, but he murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she tore through her orgasm instead. 

Y/N, panting, grasped his wrist to halt his movements, oversensitive but somehow still needy for him, Seokjin releasing his hold on her and allowing her to turn, climbing over his lap to straddle him with a ravenous look on her face. Seokjin simply stared back, smirking, bringing his slicked-up fingers to his mouth, dutifully cleaning them off and trying not to cum in his pants at the taste of her. To his surprise, a startled moan leaving his lips, Y/N rocked her hips over the hardness beneath his sweatpants, her hands tangled in his shirt. 

“Uh, oh, still need more?” Seokjin teased, hands landing on her ass and kneading the flesh, helping her grind against him. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

Y/N had no response but to kiss him, whimpering when his tongue tangled with hers, Y/N sensing that he was slowly beginning to unravel. She wanted nothing more than for him to lose his patience and fuck her senseless, feeling her pussy throbbing over the bulge in his pants. She broke away to mouth down his neck, and when she felt him shiver when she grazed over a particular spot, she sucked a bruise into the flesh, Seokjin’s hips grinding up harshly into her heat. 

“Take this off,” Y/N whined, yanking at his flimsy tee shirt, fed up with being the only one naked. Seokjin obliged, letting her strip the article off of him while they continued to rub against one another, sweat dripping from his hairline. “God, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Y/N gaped at the sight in front of her, not expecting Seokjin to be… well, ripped. She had seen his chest before, when she mended the wound on his side, but she was hardly gawking at his solid abs when she was doing so. Hands instantly shooting out to glide along his skin, his muscles rippling under her touch, the jaguar hybrid was panting while she gyrated her hips on his cock. 

“No, you,” Seokjin managed, smiling at her despite the situation they were in, Y/N kissing over his prominent clavicles tenderly. “Fuck, pretty girl!”

Y/N moved off of his hips, gawking at the wet patch she left over his gray sweatpants with distant humiliation, making brief eye-contact to ask if she could divest the garment from him. He nodded eagerly, so wound up he could think of nothing else but the scent of her, the love in her eyes, and how perfect she was. In one smooth motion, she shucked both his pants and boxers from his body, her eyes going comically wide at what she saw. 

Not only was Seokjin the sweetest man alive, gorgeous, and ripped– he had the biggest dick she ever saw in her life. Truly, he was blessed in all areas, Y/N speechless as she stared at the intimidating length and girth, suddenly understanding why he mentioned needing to stretch him out. 

“Seokjin, you’re huge,” Y/N, again, was clenching around nothing, looking up at him with awe. Seokjin had blush in his cheeks that wasn’t due to his arousal and the temperature of the room, Y/N realizing he was bashful. “I– you want my mouth, my–”

“Come here,” Seokjin cut her off, regaining his ability to take control, hooking her around her waist. “I want you to sit on my cock.”

Stunned, Y/N felt her wetness roll down her thighs, and fuck, she was going to need it. She had no objection to that request, maintaining their eye contact as she reached down, grasping his cock, the jaguar hybrid’s ears flattening against his skull as her thumb smeared precum around his tip. Having mercy on him, and neediness taking over her again, she ran him through her folds, dripping over him, whimpering brokenly when he caught on her entrance. Would he even fit?

“You can take it,” Seokjin read her mind, tucking hair behind her ear and kissing beneath her jaw, the words making heat strike through her. “Go slow.”

Swallowing thickly, she lined him up, exhaling shakily as she sunk down, and despite how turned on she was and the sheer wetness spilling from her, the stretch was enough to knock the wind out of her. Taking over, guiding her by her waist, Seokjin grit his teeth as she took him inch by inch, her chest heaving. It was a tight fit, enough to have Seokjin seeing stars, Y/N’s thighs shaking on either side of him. He was telling her to breathe when she was fully seated in his lap, cock throbbing inside of her as she adjusted to his size, kissing over her face soothingly. 

“Move when you’re ready kitten, okay?” Seokjin himself was a bit starved for oxygen, Y/N cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lower lip, tongue flicking over the flesh. 

Regaining her ability to function, eyes going round when she looked down– she pressed a hand over her lower abdomen, the slightest bump there, the action having Seokjin hissing. Darkness was in his eyes when her walls fluttered around him, and with that, Y/N gave an experimental roll of her hips, both of them moaning in tandem as he slid out an inch.

“F-fuck, Jin,” Y/N whined, getting a hold on his broad shoulders to ride him properly, lifting herself up only to drop back down harshly, feeling like he was spearing into her guts. 

Entirely overwhelmed, Seokjin leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while she fucked herself on his cock, happy to let her chase her pleasure, to provide it. Y/N’s head was thrown back, entirely gone, Seokjin’s name leaving her lips like a prayer when he stroked a thumb over her clit, bracing her hands on his knees again to switch up the angle, one that gave Seokjin quite a show and had his cock rubbing against her G-spot deliciously. 

“Look at you,” Seokjin awed, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her strokes, taking his cock like a saint. “Fuck. So pretty, so perfect.”

With Seokjin fucking into her like that, his steady circles over her clit, she was gone again with a slam and grind onto his lap, an elastic band snapping within her as she stilled, collapsed against Seokjin’s chest as she felt herself gush. 

“Holy fucking hell,” Seokjin groaned, his lap soaked, Y/N’s pussy clamping down so hard on him his vision was turning white. 

Y/N couldn’t move anymore, throat strained from her cries, convulsing against her. The world was turning as she caught her breath, somehow still aroused, and she found herself on her back, Seokjin sucking a deep bruise into her neck. Still nestled inside of her, throbbing, Y/N wound her arms around the jaguar hybrid, hands sliding into his hair. 

“Fuck me,” Y/N breathed against his lips, and that was all Seokjin needed to release that last scrap of control he had over himself. 

Snapping his hips forward, Y/N’s cunt swollen and sensitive, she wailed, feeling him in her throat. The new position was intimate, Seokjin pretty much laying most of his body weight on top of her, murmuring things in her ear that she could only make out bits and pieces of. 

“Gonna cum soon,” he groaned, driving into her, Y/N sinking her teeth into his shoulder. 

“Cum inside me,” she requested, the discussion about her IUD already out of the way days ago. “P-please.”

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seokjin teased, though the request had the predator in him coming alive. “Want me to stuff you full so you can have my cubs?”

Shock flooded through Y/N at that question, not expecting Seokjin to be like that, and shamefully she felt herself clenching around him again. Seokjin must have felt it, because he grunted, hips stuttering. 

“You’d look so beautiful,” Seokjin sighed, Y/N’s eyes rolling back, sliding her fingers over his silky ears. “Fuck, I love you, my pretty girl, my love, gonna give it to you–”

With a final thrust, Seokjin went still, kissing Y/N harshly, heat filling her as he spilled into her cunt, the jaguar hybrid whimpering. Miraculously, the sensation of him cumming so deeply inside of her had a smaller, less intense orgasm shuddering through her, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted. Seokjin himself was breathing like he ran a marathon, Y/N holding him weakly as he pulled himself together. 

“You’re insane,” Y/N accused once she caught her breath, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum, her poor pussy battered and sensitive. “I won’t be able to walk for three days.”

Seokjin giggled, actually giggled, after how devilish he had just behaved, placing an apologetic kiss on her jaw. 

“Was I too rough?” Seokjin became serious, worry etched in his eyebrows. 

“No, you were perfect,” Y/N insisted, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, honey.”

Hiding his face in her neck, he returned the sentiment, both of them content to sit in their mess for a few minutes to hold each other, Seokjin’s tail curling behind him languidly. 

“We watched about five minutes of that movie,” Y/N commented, twirling a lock of his wavy hair around a finger with a snort. “That was a hell of a first date!”

“There’s always next time,” Seokjin replied, finally rolling off of her, Y/N wincing at what they had to clean up. “I’m gonna get some things to clean you up, can you have a few sips of that water for me, pretty?”

Y/N, bonelessly, reached for the forgotten snack platter, greedily gulping the water down her scraped-up throat, watching Seokjin walk to his dresser. With a secret smile, she stared at his ass, munching on a strawberry. He only took a few minutes to gather his items: a few damp cloths, two pairs of his pajamas, and a fresh quilt to replace the one that had unspeakable fluids all over it. 

Lovingly, Seokjin cleaned her up, cooing when she winced at the sensitivity between her legs, doing the same to himself and dressing the two of them in his soft pajamas. Y/N only had to stand for a few seconds while he changed the quilt, pulling it back so they could get in. 

They ended up in the same position they were originally in, Y/N curled into his side, Y/N turning the projector off of mute in an attempt to pick up wherever the movie was, her eyes catching on something sitting on one of the pillows. 

“Oh my god. The alpaca watched us fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at the plushie, making Seokjin’s squeaky laugh fill the room, Y/N smacking him lightly on his chest. “Why do we keep scandalizing the innocents?”

“Our cross to bear,” Seokjin shrugged, brushing his lips over one of the love bites he left behind.

Holding her close, they chatted about the movie, ate some snacks, and after about an hour, fell asleep intertwined– the projector still rolling on, and rain falling gently outside. 

“I think I’ve figured out the audio,” Namjoon invited Y/N into his room days later, once she untangled herself from Seokjin in the morning and completely rinsed their sins off of her body. “Everything we captured last week.”

Namjoon’s expression was worrying her, his eyebrows pinched, sitting at his desk and chin in his hand. He had been slaving over a digital audio workstation all week, hardly making it to mealtimes, Y/N even hearing him pacing around his room late at night. 

“Is it bad?”

Namjoon gave her a look, one that said everything she needed to know, leaning against his desk. 

“Did Jeongguk listen?” 

“He listened this morning,” Namjoon said carefully, Y/N wondering why he wasn’t present. “Due to what we ended up capturing, he went upstairs to consult his old journal. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Y/N bit her lip nervously, not liking his clear reluctance. With a sigh, he pressed on the space bar. 

“What is your name?”

Static.

“How old are you?”

More static.

“Why are you here?”

Listening to her recorded voice had her cringing, but finally, there was a response to the third question. 

“Watching.” The voice was creepy, low, and made her queasy, but what was said had her skin crawling. 

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.” 

Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a little confused. Sure, the responses made her uneasy, but they weren’t so bad to warrant how hesitant he looked. 

“Okay, creepy, but expected, right?” She asked, nudging him with her foot. 

“There’s more. I didn’t want to show you, but Jeongguk insisted,” Namjoon said flatly, expression darkening. “Actually, I don’t think you, specifically, should even go back to that house.”

“What? Namjoon, you’re freaking me out. Just show me,” Y/N blinked, Namjoon scrolling on the workstation to a highlighted section. 

“This is when we were in Julie’s room,” Namjoon murmured, pressing play. 

“Why are you here?” Y/N’s voice came through the speakers, Y/N recalling they only got one response in that room. 

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @goooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @minjianhyung

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[evilminji]

You know? I kinda wonder...

In a Self Insert type scenario, in Star Wars?

They would be MUCH more open to listening to "buddy, a storm's comin'" type warnings. Their Cannon knowledge, even if spotty, would probably echo with the Force and draw its attention to them somewhat. Because they KNOW.

KNOW what is going to happen. Not guess. Not assume. KNOW. Like the Force does. And that? Coupled with their inherent strangeness? Would make them the oddly colored duck of the flock, as it were. Not Super Important... buuuut? Easy to spot.

One of the Force's Blorbos.

Just cause, really. Cause they look funny. The Force doesn't even have a plan for um! But they turned up, ate the Force's food, and look at their wittle faaaace~☆! So it's keeping them. You know... assuming they survive.

Which?

Brings me to my point?

Since they LISTEN? The Force probably chatters like a mofo. Since a Self Insert would be anxious and constantly ASKING for wisdom. For help. A friend. Guidance of any kind. The Force would be draped around them like a particularly pleased with itself shoulder cat. A hovering backseat driver.

Because you DO keep asking, after all.

It's like muscle memory. Building strength. Not... not GREAT, in all actuality? Because Self Insert is avoiding making their OWN choices, probably out of fear? But on the OTHER hand? Both of them KNOW that there is literally a Sith Master like... less then 5 minutes away from where they live. Constantly.

And they are a Youngling.

So???

At What Point?? Does the Force? Engage "Fuck it, we take our baby and run" protocols?

Just? FULL ON "you stop midway through making your dinner, turn off the soup, pick up your kids, leave the house, and NEVER LOOK BACK". Because? Yes. The Jedi KNIGHTS and MASTERS may have vows to try and protect the people of the Republic?

BUT THE YOUNGLINGS DO NOT.

They, in fact, need to be PROTECTED.

And if the Force itself? Says "if you stay here, they WILL die."? You gotta go. Hopefully? You have enough warning to like... pack a ship. But, ya might NOT. Might just be "aaaand, everybody put down your pads! Suprise field trip to Anywhere Else! IMMEDIATELY. Single file, younglings. No running!" Like?

What would you do?

I kinda wanna see it.

Just this somber, vaguely haunted, crechling walking up to import figures like Madam Nu and Yoda going "if I tell you The Force told me we have to take the younglings, ALL OF THEM, and any history we think is worth preserving, and LEAVE... would you listen? Or would you let us die here?" With their tiny lil face and to serious expression.

Like a prophet of Doom.

And WHERE? Exactly? Are they supposed to go? Oh, simple. They are to Trust In The Force. And let it guide them. Out IN THE UNKNOWN REGIONS of wild space! Because THATS fine! Is this a joke?

No.

No the youngling is dead serious. Terrifyingly serious. Has been studying how to pilot a shop like they will have to do so THEMSELF. Asking questions that paint a concerning portrait of a child that fully intends to take their peers on this journey, with or without them.

And the Force? The Force says they MUST. That it is impossibly important they DO.

WELL THEN....

Do they... TELL anybody?

No. Not a single soul. Specifically, not a single soul In The Senate. Ah. Concerning! Guess we're? "Losing" a ship in the war? Oh dear. Such casualties. All those lives. Oh noooooo, and such and so forth. UNRELATED note! It's been FAR too long since this temple was cleaned! Unacceptable. You, random clones definitely not assigned to that ship we definitely just lost! Help us... clean!

Just?

The power of "fuck it, we took our ball and went home/left"? Should be USED more in fics. The Force TOTALLY knows where some sweet, sweet habitable planets are. You'll NEVER fuckin find them if they don't want you too! An entire temple of Jedi asking for the SAME thing? Versus a crusty lil shit?

They asked first. And nicely!

With THIS, balance is maintained. Not through FORCE. But through walking away for a bit. Allowing OTHERS to decide if this is what THEY want for themselves. Order 66 may or may not still happen? But? At most? All you would kill is the current fighting adults. Not the teachers. Not the elders. And CERTAINLY not the young.

They? Are far away. Where the Force is still clear and the light is strong. Growing up. Reflecting on what went wrong. Farming. Building a new temple with the Clones. You know, the ones who didn't have their comms. Never GOT that dreaded order. Get to live free men on a peaceful planet.

Cause historically? You send your kids AWAY from active wars zones. Places that are priority targets for your enemies. And if the Force itself is saying "move the babies"? Welp! Guess you gotta move um, don't ya? It's scary. Uncertain.

But it is an act of faith.

And I just? Wanna see Sith's plans just COMPLETELY fuckin implode? Because they could not plan for Faith. For Trust and Community and Hope. All the things they believe so trite. So worthless. The very things that would lead grown adults, POWERFUL PEOPLE, to actually? LISTEN to a mere youngling. Then follow their lead.

It would be?

Inconceivable to them.

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hypewinter @babbling-babull @hdgnj @starwarsblr @starwars

[indecisive-capricorn]

Priorities || Miguel O'Hara x Wife Reader

WARNINGS: Loads of fluff, a few mentions of blood, mentions of pain, slight angst, children, Mama O'Hara in action, Baby O'Hara, stubborn Miguel O'Hara, father Miguel O'Hara, etc.

SUMMARY: Miguel got injured after a mission and you insist for your stubborn husband to go to the medical center.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I got all of the medical information, especially the teething one, from the internet, so take it with a grain of salt since I didn't do much research on it. If it's wrong, please tell me and I'll correct it as soon as I can. :) And I know I'm a little late to publish this but I had to rewrite it twice because it kept on not getting saved.

MASTERLIST & REQUESTS: Before you go, have a glass of wine or better yet, recommend a good bottle. any kind of message is always a delight.

"She won't like this," Lyla remarked as she observed Miguel who was focused on tying the wound on his arm with a bandage. He didn't respond to Lyla's words, leading her to point out, "That cut isn't small either. It'll bleed right through the bandage if you keep it for long."

Miguel merely grumbled in response, feeling discomfort from his wound, while Lyla studied his wounded arm, concerned about the potential of an infection.

"I'm only going to check on the recruits' reports for a minute," Miguel voiced under his mask, before narrowing his eyes at Lyla, "and don't tell her about this. She already has enough to worry about."

Lyla rolled her eyes at Miguel's command, but surprisingly, she stayed silent instead of pestering him to tell you about his recent injury. It was unusual for her since Lyla would usually insist for Miguel to update you about everything after he had finished his missions, especially if he got injured. However, Miguel made no comment about it, not wanting to jinx his luck or change Lyla's mind to not pester him about it like last time.

When Miguel went into his office, expecting to see a large pile of reports on his desk, he was instead met with the sight of you standing in front of his desk, holding the baby car seat that carried your sleeping baby boy. Miguel would usually be in awe at the sight of his little boy and his beautiful wife, and he would have done so at that very moment. However, it was impossible for Miguel to not notice the intense glare you were shooting at him, telling him that he had fucked up.

"Whoops! I forgot to tell you, she's already in your office," Lyla said casually, her tone nonchalant, as if she had known about your arrival and purposely chose not to tell Miguel. And he couldn't shake the feeling that Lyla did do it on purpose.

Miguel cursed in his mind and made a mental note to find a way to get Lyla to notify him of your arrival at HQ in the future, although he knew it would most likely fail due to how much she adore you over him.

"Miguel O'Hara," your voice was sharp and stern yet it was laced with concern as well, your eyes glancing back and forth between his face and his wound, "why aren't you at the medical center right now?"

"I need to check on the reports, cariño," Miguel stated, already expecting your disbelief and the scolding you were going to give him for his stubbornness. Before you could voice your protest to Miguel, he interjected, "I was only going to take them and check it in the medical center while they treat me."

That wasn't Miguel's original plan though. He had intended to put off going to the medical center for as long as he could to continue working, possibly only going to the medical center at the last hour of the day. That way, you wouldn't scold him for not treating his wound and ban him from going on missions for a while, which you have done in the past. You can be a really scary lady at times. Although he was very intelligent, Miguel tend to be obsessed with finishing his work at times to the point that he would dismiss his wounds and insist that they were only "small scratches".

They weren't just "small scratches".

And knowing your husband's tendencies, you found it hard to believe that he had planned to take the reports to the medical center with him instead of continuing his work in his office. Raising an eyebrow, Miguel was prepared for you to question him about it. However, instead of pressing further on the matter, you surprised Miguel by asking, "And have you eaten yet before your mission?"

"Of course I have—" Miguel paused mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that he hadn't eaten anything before the mission. In fact, the only thing preventing him from experiencing gastric pains was likely the peanut butter and jelly sandwich you had made for him that morning. However, at that moment, Miguel also realized the reason you had come to headquarters- he had forgotten to bring the homemade lunch you had packed for him before he left for work.

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he caught a glimpse of the lunch box you had brought for him on his desk, along with a small note containing your usual declarations of love for him, which never failed to bring him motivation. He cherished these notes, keeping them secretly tucked away in a special place.

"Mi vida, how long have you been waiting for me?" Guilt began to brew in Miguel's stomach, knowing that you wouldn't mind waiting for him to return from his mission just to catch a glimpse of him for a moment.

You shook your head gently. "I didn't mind waiting," you responded back, avoiding his question. The mission had stretched on for more than three hours, and with it already being around three o'clock in the afternoon, and the fact that you weren't one to delay meals, Miguel knew you had likely been waiting for almost three hours for him as well.

Before Miguel could respond, he felt something trickling down his arm. Looking down, he saw blood seeping from his wound. You quickly rushed to Miguel's side and inspected the injury, a frown forming on your face. "We have to go to the medical center now before it gets infected," you firmly said, taking no arguments from him. "The reports can wait. It won't be the end of the world, amor. Peter and the others will take care of it."

Miguel nodded and gently took the baby car seat from you with his uninjured arm, though you tried to protest, insisting that he was in no condition to carry anything and that you were perfectly capable of carrying baby Benjamin yourself.

As he carried Benjamin, Miguel felt a wave of guilt wash over him for forgetting to bring the homemade lunch you had worked so hard on to work, especially since you were barely getting enough rest lately from taking care of Benjamin who recently began having teething pains and became increasingly restless due to it.

Miguel had done his best to help soothe Benjamin's teething pain whenever he could, even taking a few days off work to care for him alongside you at home. However, he eventually had to return to work, as the Spider Society needed him physically for missions as well. At first, Miguel wanted to hide his injury from you to avoid adding more stress, but he knew you would find out about his wound eventually.

On the way to the medical center, Miguel made sure to be mindful of his steps, not wanting to wake Benjamin up. The last thing either of you needed was for him to wake up, especially since the poor baby was already struggling to sleep due to his teething pain.

When Miguel arrived at the medical center, the spider-healer in charge was slightly surprised to see him, knowing how stubborn he could be and how he sometimes insisted on treating his own wounds. However, it made sense to the healer when you arrived alongside him. The spider-healer pulled aside a chair for Miguel to sit on while they began treating the wound on his arm.

Throughout the treatment, Miguel remained quiet, only grunting slightly as the healer worked. You watched the healer's movements carefully, placing a comforting hand over Miguel's to soothe him. A moment after the healer was finished stitching Miguel's wound up, Benjamin began to cry from the baby car seat, slowly waking up from his slumber.

Miguel's eyes softened as he watched you lift the crying baby from the car seat, cradling him close to your chest. You rocked Benjamin gently back and forth, murmuring soft words of comfort as you rubbed his back soothingly. Benjamin's cries gradually softened, feeling warmth from his mother's embrace.

"Did you have a nightmare, Benji?" You asked the seven month old in a gentle tone, as he lifted his head from your chest, his eyes looking around his surroundings until he stopped at Miguel. With a soft noise, Benjamin leaned towards his father, seeking comfort in his arms.

Miguel's heart swelled with warmth at Benjamin's action, and he carefully accepted him into his arms, mindful of his stitched arm. Despite the caution, you could see Miguel's eyes sparkle with love and adoration as he held Benjamin close.

Miguel chuckled affectionately as Benjamin grabbed a handful of his dark hair with his tiny hands. "Did you miss me, tesoro?" he asked Benjamin, his voice filled with warmth. In response, Benjamin babbled happily, his tiny hands still tightly gripping Miguel's hair.

"I'm sorry for not telling the truth to you, mi amor," Miguel apologized to you sincerely, his voice laced with regret. With Benjamin now distracted by the toys you had brought, Miguel took a moment to express his remorse, gazing into your eyes for forgiveness.

He reached out, gently grasping your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckle in a comforting gesture. "You were already stressed with Benjamin, and I didn't want to worry you any more with my injury," Miguel explained softly.

You sighed, expressing your concerns gently but firmly. "Miggy, I'm always grateful for how hard you work for our family, and I understand how important your role is in the Spider Society. But I sometimes get worried that you're not taking care of yourself properly at work like you used to, especially after what happened today," you frowned, knowing that Miguel's old work habits were hard to shake off.

As you intertwined your fingers with his, you continued, your voice filled with genuine care, "You getting injured worries me a lot, but what worries me more is the way you brush off your injuries and continue pushing yourself as if nothing happened."

Worry was evident in your eyes. "Please promise me that you'll prioritize your health over your work and treat your wounds properly after missions. And if you're struggling to remember to eat and drink, I can come by here everyday and remind you about it. I'm still on maternity leave, remember?" You added with a reassuring smile, showing him how much you care about his health.

He squeezed your hand gently. "I remember, and you're right. I promise to take better care of myself for you and Benjamin," He leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead, feeling grateful for your love and care.

Benjamin, ever the adorable child he is, wiggled his way between you and Miguel, continuing to babble joyfully. With chubby fingers, he repeatedly pointed to his cheek, a clear invitation for you and Miguel to leave kisses.

"Do you want a kiss too, Benji?" you cooed, your voice filled with affection and awe at the little boy's action. Without waiting for an answer, you peppered Benjamin with kisses all over his face, earning delighted squeals of laughter from him.

Miguel couldn't help but chuckle, staring at you and Benjamin with a smile, as he was silently thankful for the chance to have his own family again.

[xiaosfiance]

mha x fem! reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ ¡! sypnosis;;❞ ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤Your life is nearing its end with only a handful of days left to your name. Before you meet your untimely demise, you’re determined to check out everything listed within your bucket list. Although, to truly complete the objectives listed down, it seems like you’ll have to enroll into a hero school…

Or: a girl with 3 years left to live enrolls into U.A to complete her bucket list before dying.

"So, how is my condition?"

The fan hummed, filling the void in the air. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The silence seemed to stretch out for an eternity until the doctor fixed his glasses and spoke.

"I'm sorry." he lowered his head.

"Based on the recent tests your-" his facade of professionalism begun to crack  "It- it's progressed significantly. I'm afraid that based on our current assessment you have about..."

The smile on your face slipped for a moment, but you quickly regained it and giggled lightheartedly.

""It got worse, I presume?" You asked, cutting him off before he could continue. Perhaps you did that on purpose. "Don't tell me how much time I have left, I can already tell I won't like the answer." 

"I just wish there was more we could do for you miss [Last Name], I'm truly sorry." Dr. Shojin's voice shook, and he quickly looked away. "I apologize, this is unprofessional of me."

"Didn't I tell you to call me [First Name]?" The doctor almost asked how could you be so calm right now while he was on the verge of tears.

"I...I promised...but in the end-" he choked.

"I'm sorry."

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ⋆ ★°

The chair creaked as you rocked back and forth absentmindedly. From the years of overuse, one of it's feet was left worn down and noticeably a length shorter, which caused the chair to awkwardly tilt to the side if you pressed too much weight against it. You've grown fond of using it as a makeshift rocking chair, even if it wasn't intended for that purpose. 

But today, you're not sat upon it to admire the scene outside the window— but to stare at the nearly-2-meter-long-list of objectives that you were supposedly meant to check out before your deadline.

...

Just how on earth and the heavens above were you supposed to do all this within such a short time?!

Your eyes trailed down the length of the paper. Might as well just add 'die before completing everything' to the list! But that kind of defeats the whole purpose of this in the first place...after all, dying before being able to check everything off would be something that you'd regret. And that is the opposite of the goal you ultimately wish to achieve through this bucket list:

To pass on without any regrets.

Sighing, you scratched your head with the back of your pen. Some of the things written here are close to impossible (but you're the one who wrote everything down so the only one to blame is yourself) to achieve without breaking a few laws here and there, though living in a society built on heroes makes that hard to accomplish. And some of the tasks require you to become a hero yourself! (Then again, who's fault is that?)

It's been quite some time since you've begun your conquest of taking down the challenges listed in your bucket list one by one. So far, you have completed about-

...Break an expensive relic in a museum... go shark diving... go bungee jumping with an electrical extension cord... gaslight a stranger into believing they are your sibling...

You have completed approximately about 0.4% of the list in the span of 2 months!

...

The pen fell to the ground with a thump as your arms fell to your side in hopelessness. At this rate, you're never going to be able to complete this list.

Truth be told, as you were listing down the things you wanted to do before dying, the question 'Is it humanely possible to do all of this before my deadline?' never even crossed your mind. 

As each second passed while you pondered about the different ways you could finish the list, the clock on the wall ticked, its hands moving while time went on.

Tick. Tock.

You started to feel like you should get up and find something better to do before you regret not doing so sooner. A familiar feeling started to take root within your stomach at that thought.

But...technically, you were doing something, weren't you? You were thinking. Thinking about how exactly you'll pull this off. So you technically weren't wasting time, right?

Tick. Tock.

The birds outside your window chirped as they took off in a flight, their feathers slowly descending as they left.

Tick. Tock.

Actually... you might have an idea...

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ⋆ ★°

"Haha! Good one, kid," The man chuckled, but a beat passed. "Wait...are you being for real right now?"

Your blank stare gave him the answer he needed.

"...A hero school, huh?" He muttered. "I think it's nice you want to be one and all. I'd be happy to help you enroll in one, but it's abit too late, ain't it?"

He leaned into his chair, spreading his bright vermillion wings out while he scratched the side of his cheek. "The entrance exams for all hero schools in Japan ended weeks ago. Even if I wanted to, I can't."

The brows on your face were knitted together as you frowned. "I'm sure you have the connections and status to get me into one, don't you?" You insisted.

"Geez...did you seriously call me here just for that?" He sighed as he shook his head in mock disappointment. "I don't have a lot of free time these days, ya' know. Asking me to use my status as a hero to enroll you into a hero school... what an underhanded method— that's pretty bold, even for you." The man before you crossed his arms and looked into your eyes, as if he were trying to study you.

That suspicious look in his eyes quickly went away as soon as it appeared. 

"Don't you think it's kinda unfair to the attendees who actually worked hard to get into those schools if you just mysteriously enrolled thanks to my help?" He asked, going back to his usual lax tone. "And it practically goes against the values of being a hero, too."

Running a hand through his blond locks, he looked off into the wall in deep thought. "Makes me wonder why you're suddenly so determined to become one now. Why didn't you just enroll while the entrance exams were ongoing?" He glanced back at you briefly, his eyes filled with curiosity instead of the wariness that previously occupied his mind.

"But, if you want to experience being a hero that badly, I'm sure I can pull some strings to get you into my agency. Or, better yet have you as my sidekick, ey?" He gave you a smile. "You won't have to deal with homework, it won't be unfair to the students in hero courses, and most of all— you get to work with me!"

His idea was met with a scoff, but he seemed persistent. You couldn't tell if it was because he was trying to steer you away from the idea of taking advantage of his status and fame to forcibly get you into a hero school, or if he just really wanted to spend more time with you. It was more likely the former.

"And how often is it that you get to work alongside Japan's No.3 hero, Hawks, huh?"

"No thanks." You quickly refused.

You wanted to enroll into a hero school to complete your tasks; atleast that way, you will be able to avoid the responsibilities that come along with it more easier. But actually working? No. You simply don't have enough time for that, and quite frankly, you won't even live to see the day you become a full fledged pro hero within the ranks like the obnoxious guy Infront of you.

"Aww," Hawks flashed you a mock frown, but behind his yellow visors, his golden eyes were tinted in amusement. "Don't you want to work with— or for— lil' ol' me?" 

"Absolutely not. I hate— no, detest the idea of doing so. Enroll me into a hero school."

He took a bite of his chicken with a sour expression as he grumbled something that fell deaf to your ears. "Well, it doesn't matter," Hawks shrugged it off.

"What's with the sudden request, anyway? Last time I remember, you dropped out of school."

You averted your gaze and crossed your arms. "It's none of your business."

Hawks smile faltered for a quick moment.

"None of my business? Last time I remember you were my business." His tone remained playful, although it had taken an edge that suggested that he was anything but that.

When you chose not to reply, the silence in the atmosphere was so palpable it was like you could cut through it with a knife. Although, the silence between the two of you couldn't even compare to the day you got the news from the doctor. 

It continued on like this for a few moments, staring at you with that same calculative gaze he'd use when interrogating criminals, but without the tenacity or menacing glare he would use to get the villains to spill their secrets. Seeing your unbothered response, Hawks sighed reluctantly. 

"Okay, okay, fine. Keep your secrets close to yourself, if you want to hide them that badly." Hawks shook his head, once again going back to his usual self. "Still, though, there's nothing I can do about it. You either join my agency, or wait next year to enroll."

Nothing you can do about it? Huh... that sounds familiar.

You didn't realize you said that outloud until Hawks raised his eyebrow. "...What?"

Well, since you've already said it, might as well go with a flow. You need to find a way to enter a hero school, no matter what. 

"Nothing you can do about it?" You took a deep breath for what you were about to do. "Are you sure about that? You have the power to do do so, though. But you won't."

"Seriously, I can't, kiddo. It's not good for me to use my status like that-"

"You can't? You can't do anything about it; like the day you couldn't do anything for my parents?"

 And just like that, Hawks expression fell and twisted into a painful mix of guilt, confusion and despair that he desperately tried to suppress.

You arose from your seat, and made your way towards the exit. "Didn't know you were a man who clung to his values that tightly."

"Atleast do this for me, because you couldn't save them."

When Hawks came back to his senses, you were already gone.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ⋆ ★°

2 days later, the doorbell to your apartment rang and you opened the door to see a mailman handing you a letter.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ⋆ ★°

HI :33 this story and all the OTHER CHAPTERS are available on quotev!! If u liked this one shot (or prologue, rather) check it out<33

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : fighting ; Minho being a jerk ; angst ; fluffy at the end ; established relationship Word Count : 3.8k Request : i would like to know if you could please write something super angsty but with a fluff ending with him, could be a fight or maybe some bad things said in the heat of the moment, idk you choose, whatever you feel comfortable with. A/N : This took so long to get around to and I'm so sorry, but I finally finished it and I hope that you love it! It was a nice little change from what I've been working on right now. Thank you for loving my writing and supporting me, and I don't know if you remember saying it when you requested but you said you love me forever and always and the feeling is 100% mutual anon!!! Thank you so much!!

Things with Minho weren’t always perfect, no relationship ever was, but you liked to think that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the usual hurdles that most couples went through. For the most part, speed bumps would be smoothed over in a matter of minutes and arguments were more like the flame of a birthday candle, blown out within seconds of lighting it. You both loved each other, and that feeling was strong enough to get the both of you through even the toughest of days. You weren’t sure what was different about this time around, maybe it was the timing, or maybe it was just the fact that you both had gone through this kind of thing so many times that there was no more going around it. You both had to face it head on, and that was something that you never expected to do. 

“Where are you going?” You asked when you saw him heading to the door with a suitcase. Nothing had happened, not yet at least, and the sight in front of you had your stomach sinking. “Is something wrong? Did I do something?” He had never given you a reason to feel like you had to walk on eggshells, but seeing him this way, like he was about to walk out on you, had you beyond nervous, beyond terrified. 

“I’m not going anywhere, kitten.” He cooed, placing the bag down next to the door before walking over to you, his hands moving to your hips to hold you steady as he looked you in the eye. “We’re gonna be filming a new music video further out in the country and it’s gonna take a couple days. I’ll be staying at a hotel so I don’t have to keep driving back and forth every day. I’ll be back before you know it.” He leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead before backing up, but his words and the sentiment behind the action weren’t as reassuring as you wanted them to be. 

“Well… Why didn’t you tell me about it? I never heard about a new music video…” You said, the words coming out rather sharply, although you didn’t intend them to. “I mean… What if I didn’t catch you leaving? I’d just wake up and you’d be gone. Do you not care about how that would have made me feel?!” 

He rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair as he glared at you, his eyes ice cold and sending a shiver down your spine. “Sometimes I forget to tell you things, my life is kind of busy Y/N. Sue me for it. My life doesn’t exactly revolve around you.” He snapped back, and you knew that he could be kind of harsh with his words, but you didn’t know the extent of it until now, and those words had never been targeted towards you until this moment. “You’re so far up my ass anyway, I thought you would have known about the music video already considering you’re always right fucking there.” 

You swallowed thickly, a nervous chill running through you from being yelled at by the one person in your life that had never raised their voice at you at all before. You weren’t used to it, and you already felt the tears pricking your eyes as you stared at him. “I’m sorry that my way of loving you isn’t good enough, or if it’s a little too much for you. You should have let me know so that I didn’t get so attached.” You retorted, albeit far more quietly, your held back tears causing the words to come out sounding more choked off than anything. 

“Yeah, maybe I should have. And maybe I didn’t tell you about my little trip because I didn’t want you to tag along. I need my own space.” He said, and you felt your stomach tighten up, your throat closing in, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep yourself from crying. If you continued with the argument you’d only break down, so you stayed silent, waiting to see if he had any more left to say. You were like his verbal punching bag, and maybe he was just really stressed out right now, but he was taking it all out on you, and everything that he was saying sounded like his genuine feelings. “I’ve wasted enough time on you… I need to go.” Was the last thing he said before walking out, not a goodbye uttered by either of you, just the tension filled silence that grew and filled the space between the both of you until he walked out the front door. 

It was strange, how your mind was filled with so much, yet you couldn’t think of anything at all. You just stood there in the middle of the room, staring at the door that he had walked out of you don’t know how long ago now. Time seemed to stand still, everything was frozen, not even the sound of birds tweeting outside could be heard. It was like your entire world had stopped, and that’s when you realized that maybe he was right, what he had said wasn’t just nonsense said in a moment of anger or annoyance. It was the truth, it was the wake up call that you needed. 

You were attached to him, far too attached and it wasn’t healthy, not in the slightest. Your world shouldn’t feel like it was crumbling just because of one argument, but it did, and the walls were caving in and the floor was sinking beneath your feet and you felt like you were going to be swallowed into the nothingness that would be your life without him. You had to do the both of you a favor, you had to get out of there, you had to give him the space that he very clearly needed, a space that you didn’t know you needed as well. 

With your number dialed on his phone, his thumb hovered over the call button. You’d pick up, he knew that you would, but he was scared of what you’d say to him. He knew what he’d say to himself if he had been on the receiving end of his own words this morning. You had simply asked where he was going, and there was nothing wrong with that, he knew that. He would have felt the same sense of fear that you clearly felt if the roles were reversed. He was stressed, but that was no excuse for treating you that way, for acting the way he did. 

“Guys… can you… can you be quiet for a moment?” He called out to the rest of his members that were foolishly goofing off behind him, not a care in the world, and while their voices softened just a bit, their antics continued. He’d never be able to talk to you, not like this, at least he wouldn’t be able to be relaxed during the conversation. He needed to apologize to you, and while a face to face apology would be better, a phone call was all that he was able to give you right now, and for that, he felt even worse. 

His thumb pressed against the green button and he quickly brought the phone up to his ear, awaiting and expecting to hear your voice after the first ring. But the first ring came and went, leading into the second, and then the third, and it was so rare for such a thing to happen that he assumed he had just dialed the wrong number. 

Now, something like that wasn’t likely to happen, not with him. Your number had been etched into his mind since the day he had gotten it from you, the dialing of the digits a muscle memory now. He had to find a reason for the lack of an answer though, and the only reason he could come up with was that maybe his finger had slipped, it had slipped just enough to press a wrong number, and that’s why your voice hadn’t come through his speaker to reassure him and calm his nerves. 

He pressed out the numbers once more, slowly this time, focusing on his screen and reading back the digits at the top once they were all there just to make sure he was right this time around. “Come on…” He mumbled to himself as he heard the first ring sound out, fading off into silence just to be followed by the second ring. This never happened, you never ignored him, you always had your phone close enough to you to hear the special ringtone that you had given to just him. This had to mean that something was wrong, something happened, and his own stomach sank at the possibility, all of the things that could have happened. “I have to go guys.” He said, his words short as he walked right past them, not even bothering to give them an explanation as they all tried to follow behind him. He didn’t have time for explanations right now, but once he was sure that you were okay he’d tell them what had happened. You were his top priority right now, you were top priority always, no matter where he was or what he was doing, you were always number 1 in his mind. 

His phone sat in the center console of the car as he started the drive back home, his eyes glancing down at it every couple seconds just to check if you were calling him back or if you had texted him to let him know that you had just been busy in the shower or something. Anything, he would have taken anything over the silence that he was receiving right now, and the longer it lasted the more worried he got. The little argument that the two of you had earlier that morning seemed like nothing to him, it didn’t even cross his mind that you’d be upset about it because he just assumed that you would know that he meant none of the words that came out of his mouth. There was just so much going on, the words were meaningless, and at the end of the day, he absolutely adored you, he loves you, you knew that. 

The set for the music video was 2 hours away, and that was if there was no traffic at all, but of course, he had the luck of running into rush hour, and he had been stopped at every single red light, turning what would have been a 2 hour car ride into almost 4 hours and in that duration of time he had heard nothing from you, he hadn’t heard from you at all and by the time he pulled up to the apartment he was on the verge of having a full fledged panic attack. 

His keys were almost left in the ignition of the car in his rush to get inside, and the only reason he remembered to grab them was because he needed to unlock the front door to get to you. No matter how fast he tried to move, it felt like his feet wouldn’t carry him any faster than the speed of a snail, and maybe it was some kind of internal hesitation, a fear that what would be on the other side of the door once he opened it, or better you, what might not be there. 

“Y/N!” He called out your name, practically screaming it as he pushed the door open, the sound of the doorknob slamming against the wall breaking the silence of the shared home. As he looked around, everything seemed far too still, as if nothing had been touched, no one had moved inside these four walls for hours, and his breaths became faster as he stepped further into the apartment. It was quiet, too quiet, and he could only describe what he felt right now as being at the top of a 20 story building and standing on the edge looking straight down. 

It was like he was frozen in the center of the room now, trying to find any sign of life, any sign of you being there, and he thought, maybe if he looked around enough, maybe if he did a couple double takes something would come up, but all he was met with was nothing. There was no heat that clung to the LCD screen of the television after having been on for a little bit too long. There was no scent of laundry detergent in the air that would alert him that you had clothes going. The hum of the dishwasher wasn’t heard as it usually would be when he came home, and there was no sound of water running through pipes that would indicate you were in the shower. Everything about the house right now felt empty. 

Why did an empty house feel so claustrophobic? The walls were closing in on him, he couldn’t breathe and all he wanted was to push them back, and the only thing that would allow him to take a deep breath was finally seeing you. Where were you? If you had only gone out for groceries, the house wouldn’t feel like this. There was some sort of resting stillness, a sense of finality in the emptiness, it felt like it would be like this forever, and he didn’t understand why. 

He hadn’t stepped any further into the home, dread filling every bone and taking over every fiber of his being at the mere thought of taking another step. Was it a good thing that he hadn’t? The doorknob jiggled and the sound of keys rattling on the other side had his head whipping around to see you walking in. “Minho…” You whispered his name, freezing in the doorframe. Your arms and your hands were empty, you hadn’t gone grocery shopping… So where have you been? “I didn’t think you’d be here. I’m sorry…” Why were you apologizing? “I just forgot a few things… I’ll be out soon.” Your tone was hushed as you made a move to step past him, but his arm instinctively reached out to grab you, to feel your skin against the palm of his hands, to stop you from walking away from him. 

“What do you mean you’ll be out soon? Where are you going?” His tone was hushed as he looked at you, but you didn’t even meet his eyes, staring down at the floor as if you didn’t want to see him. “You didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t text me… What’s going on? Is something wrong, did something happen?” There was a soft sound that came through your lips, and it sounded like a scoff, but he couldn’t be quite sure. You were acting so distant, it scared him, you had never been like this before. 

“I was just trying to give you what you needed…” You mumbled, and he could hear it in your voice, in your tone, in every syllable of every word that he couldn’t seem to understand the meaning of. You had been crying, you were devastated, and the only thing that he could manage to get out of the vague sentence was that it had been his fault. 

You tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t want to let you go, he couldn’t, not until he knew that things were okay. If he let go now, he was scared that you’d walk away from him, walk out on him, and he knew that his heart wouldn’t be able to handle that. “What do you mean…? I need you. I don’t know where this is coming from, love… I just… I know that we had that little spat this morning but… It was nothing.” 

At his words, your eyes finally lifted from the floor, the whites of them reddened and the skin underneath puffy and raw. “It was… nothing?” You repeated his words questioningly, and although you weren’t looking directly at him, he could see your eyes waver as you looked around the room. “Was it nothing because… you didn’t get hurt? Because you got to walk out after completely breaking me down and making me feel like shit? You make me feel like my love isn’t good enough, or that it’s way too much… And then you get to just come back in here and say that it was nothing?” 

Clearly what he had thought to be a little spat had been so much more to you, and while the both of you usually didn’t like to dwell on arguments, this one had stuck with you, it had bothered you enough to the point that you were seemingly on the verge of walking out, of leaving him. “I-...” Where was he going to go with that sentence? He didn’t even know, but he was so scared, so so scared that you’d try to pull away again, that it would be the last time you’d ever pull away from him. “I was stressed… I didn’t mean any of that, you know I didn’t… You don’t really think that I think of you like that, do you?” 

But surely you did… Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be acting this way… You wouldn’t be so upset… “You’re the only one who gets stressed… Sure, we’ll go with that.” You mumbled, letting your arm drop limply, aware now that he wasn’t going to let go of you, not that easily at least. “You said you wanted space, and that’s what I’m giving you. If you’re so stressed… If that’s what made you say that, then I don’t want to be around you anyway.” 

What was he supposed to even say now? You were using his words against him, words that he had tried all morning to forget that he had said, but you didn’t forget, you never did. His eyes squeezed shut as if the answers to his question would appear on the insides of his eyelids, but all he saw was darkness, which was exactly what his life would be without you in it if he didn’t fix things. “I’m not… I don’t want space. I want you here with me, I want you to cling to me, I need it.” He was breathless, his breaths coming heavily as if he had just ran a marathon, and he was surely sweating as though he had as well. There was nothing more stressful than what he was going through right now. 

“Why? So you can go right back out the door again and leave me here feeling more confused than I was this morning?” You shook your head, but he mirrored the action only double the speed as his eyes went wide, pulling you closer to him until your chest was pressed against his, and his forehead resting against yours. “Minho…” You gasped out his name in one short breath, all others that were supposed to follow were held in your lungs. 

“If I walk out that door again… I don’t want to do it alone. I want you right beside me, love.” He quickly spoke, feeling as though time were slipping from his hands the longer he made you wait, he needed to speak fast, he needed to get all of his feelings out so that you knew he was being serious. “I want you to come with me to the shoot, I want you to be there to watch us film, I want to feel your eyes on me the entire time.” 

You gnawed on your bottom lip, your eyes staring down at the faded pattern of his t-shirt that had been through the wash way too many times. “What if I don’t want to…? What if I need space?” You quizzed and his heart felt constricted, his breaths sharper now as he thought and assumed a deeper meaning to your words. Why would you say that? Did you just want space so that he could come back home and you not be there? What was the reason behind it? 

“No.” He said flatly, causing your head to pull back so you could look up at him with narrowed eyes. He didn’t mean to sound so short with you, but it was the only word he could think to say when everything felt like it was being stacked against him. “Please… I’m sorry…” He wasn’t the type of person that wore his heart on his sleeve, not at all, and his emotions were usually bottled up quite well, but right now it felt like the bottle had been shaken and it was bubbling over, making a mess of the table and the floors. “If you… If you need space, fine… But come with me. You can have space… I just don’t want to leave you, I don’t want to be away from you. Please…” 

Begging definitely wasn’t his thing, but he’d be damned if he lost you because his pride was too high. He was willing to do anything to make things right, especially since it had been his words that had messed things up in the first place. He had made the mess and it was his job to clean it up. “You’re so confusing, Minho…” You sighed, letting your head drop back down against his chest as his hand came up to pet through your hair. 

“I know, I’m gonna work on that, I promise.” His chest vibrated, but what you assumed to be laughter that you weakly chuckled along with were the stuttered breaths that he had been holding for so long it felt like his lungs would burst. “I love you, and I need you, I’ll always feel that way. If I ever say anything stupid like that again just… call me an idiot and throw a pillow at me or something. I don’t ever want you to feel like your love is too much… I need it. I’ll die without it.” 

You scoffed as you lightly pushed him back, crinkling your nose at him. “You’re so dramatic. You’ve been hanging with Hyunjin a little too much, haven’t you?” You teased, but he couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed with the comment, he was just happy to see you playing around, to see your smile again, to know that you weren’t going to leave him. 

The two of you belonged together, he felt it in his bones, in his heart and in his soul. There was no one else in this world that he’d rather be with, and if it wasn’t you, he wouldn’t settle for anyone else. He needed you, that much was the honest truth, and while he wouldn’t actually die without you, he’d be much better off that way if he didn’t have you. You were his, and sure, you were attached to him, but he was attached to you, and that’s simply because he wouldn’t be himself without you, and you wouldn’t be you without him. You were each others better halves, and that’s how it always was, how it always will be.

[toxicanonymity]

Hey Boo,

I've been seeing Joelkemons making the rounds being the best kind of dude to have around when you're crying.

Is Stepdad is having very strong feelings about all of this too? I imagine of Raider (LOML) and NW are being so soft with us, something in stepdad might respond to our hopelessly impotent rage.

I'd love to see how he reacts.

Boy howdy, tho, if I could slip into the brothel and have a big ol' Joel-pile, that shit would fix me all the way.

Thank you so much for everything you do and are.

I hope you're taking care of yourself too.

-- Cupquake <3

black tuesday

JOEL x f!READER | 1000 words

WARNINGS: 18+. Election Night. ANGST. Tears. Fears. This is intended to be a cathartic fic with some comfort but please don't read if it could be traumatic. Allusions to reproductive rights, etc. Reader is angry, esp. at men, takes it out on joel a little. Joel is supportive. Reader dacryphilia, brief smut. STEPDAD AU but you don't need to know it, and the stepcest doesn't come up.

NOTES: Sweet Cupquake, you're welcome and thank you for always being so supportive. Poor stepdad, he's normally the one needing comforting, isn't he? Yes, he has strong feelings about all this. This doesn't fit neatly in the AU timeline just roll with it. My brief post on the election is here. This will most likely be my only fic that overtly acknowledges the u.s. election. DO NOT INTERACT: TRUMP VOTERS, ANTI-CHOICE PEOPLE, MINORS.

You’re sitting on the floor of your apartment watching the news while Joel makes dinner and a huge mess in the kitchen. When the early votes are counted, we’ll see a lot more blue, they said. No, actually. Not really. You turn the volume way down so you can barely hear it. 

“Pasta’s ready,” Joel announces in a weak, sing-song voice. 

You remain on the floor. Your breathing is shallow, and it doesn’t feel real. 

Joel comes into the living room but doesn’t sit down. He stands with his arms crossed. His neck veins are bulging, his biceps are tense, his jaw clenches as he watches the screen. He’s pissed, he’s so angry watching this happen. He’s embarrassed to be a Texan. He thinks about all the women he knows. Embarrassed to be a man. 

He looks back and forth between the tv and you, and he sees your eyes are watery. He brings your glass of water from the kitchen, but you refuse it. He puts it down on the coffee table. Then, he picks up the remote control and turns off the tv. 

“Why’d you do that?” you snap. 

“It’s only makin’ ya sad,” Joel replies. “It’s still early, there’s time.” 

“Sad?? You think I’m sad?” Heat rises to your face. Your chest tightens.  

“Okay,” Joel acknowledges softly. “I can see you’re not just sad.” 

He sits down and tries to put his arm around you but you scoot over to face him. 

“All you men just go around blowing your loads everywhere and we’re the ones who have to deal with it, and you have the nerve to tell us how.” 

“I’d never tell you how to--you know that.”

“--I am so fucking tired of men talking.” 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and sits quietly next to you for a minute. It’s hard knowing there’s nothing he can do or say, but he’s not going to leave you unless you tell him to. 

He clears his throat and asks softly, “Would anything make ya feel better?”

“Only waking up from this nightmare.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges. 

“I don’t wanna feel better,” you begin to cry. “I want it to not happen….Like, is this real life?” 

None of it feels real. Months ago, people in stupid red hats were carrying around actual sperm cups. The highest-profile rapist in the country called himself the father of fertility, and crowds of people cheered. He said “mass deportation” and people cheered more. And then half the country voted for these sick, twisted buffoons. 

“You want some space?” Joel asks. 

“No,” you protest tearfully.

He hesitantly brushes the back of your neck with his thumb. This time, you let him put his arm around you. 

You whisper, “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“Sweetheart, it ain’t over. We got time.” 

You shake your head no, ‘cause you can feel it in your gut. 

Joel sits in silence for a moment, and you can’t see it, but he’s tearing up because he can feel you burning and he’s powerless. 

He holds you and strokes your back while you bury your face in his chest. He discreetly checks his new york times app and tries not to react out loud- it’s only getting worse. 

After a few minutes of silence, he whispers your name, and you respond, “mm?”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. 

You look up to see his cheeks wet, his hair messy. Your heart swells with affection. Affection and… gratitude? God, the bar is in hell. But to be fair, you really love him. You’re grateful for the man he is, not the one he isn’t. 

Desire begins to stir in your chest.

Joel presses a kiss onto your forehead, then lifts your chin, and you look at each other. He brushes away a tear from your cheek. With his own cheeks still wet, he swallows, and the emotional bob of his Adam’s apple sends a rush of arousal to your core. You put your hand on the back of his neck and pull him toward you for a kiss. 

Affection and relief floods your body. It’s temporary, of course, but you let yourself have this. You let the nightmare fade into a spicy dream. 

You straddle him and he pulls you close and moans into your mouth. You kiss him desperately and feel him harden under you. He hesitates and mutters, “sorry,” trying to read the room. He pushes your thighs back, trying to put some distance between you and his hard-on. 

“Stop,” you reply, then latch onto his mouth again. He breaks away and says, “Just don’t want ya to feel like I–” 

“Shut up,” you tell him, then scoot yourself closer, your crotch firmly planted on the warm, stiffening shape in his sweatpants. You grind your hips into him. He kisses you back with increased fervor, and moans into your mouth. Kissing passionately, your loins throb warmly together and your hips move in rhythm. 

You reach between the two of you and slide your hand down his sweatpants. You palm his leaking manhood. Pressing it against his tummy, you gently move the skin on his shaft, and  He groans.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and thrusts against your hand. 

You stand up to urgently take off your pj pants. 

His man-guilt is still eating at him. Squeezing his aching hard shaft, he lets out a moan, then weakly offers, “Are you sure you wanna…”

In response, you straddle him, hot and dripping against his bare arousal.  You slide against him, throbbing and ready. Then, as you slide his tip to your entrance, you warn him, “Get it while it’s on the table.” You sink down on him and he shudders. Then he thrusts upward and moans as he bottoms out.  

“My legs’ll be closed for business soon,”  you explain. 

He closes his eyes and breathes deep as your body accommodates his.  “Fair enough,” he answers thoughtfully, then opens his eyes. “Wait. Even if my face is the customer?” 

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NOTES: I actually wrote three Stepdad things, and chronologically, this is no. 2 of 3. The others aren't posted yet. The first one is a standalone pregnancy scare, nothing about the election (would've been before it). And the second one is a post-election talk about contraception.

My brief post on the election is here.

Thank you for reading. Please remember to take care of yourselves <33

[ghostandsoap]

Sitting with a Show

John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem! Reader Tags: NSFW. Smut. Cockwarming. Soap being a jerk lol. A/N: Horrible title. Will change it when I come up with something better. Word Count: 1.0k "Your odds are lookin' good."

"Hey, hey..." Soap warned, his grip on your hips tightening. "Stop it. Watchin' the game here."

"John, this is ridiculous," You hissed. "There will be a million soccer games other than this one."

"Football," He corrected, giving the side of your thigh a smack. "None of that soccer rubbish."

"It's the same thing," You gruffed, whimpering when he shifted his hips underneath you. "Every game is the same."

His tip hit the furthest part inside of you that it could, and your arms and legs were beginning to get fuzzy. Soap's cock had been stuffed inside of you for what felt like hours now - completely hard and prodding at all the right places.

He was perfectly comfortable, sunken into the mattress, propped up just enough so he could properly see the TV that was screaming with bright colors of soccer field turf and fans dressed for their team in the stands. He could see the screen over you, much to your demise.

To be completely honest, this whole ordeal did seem fun at first. It was something different, and something you hadn't tried before. It was arousing to think about Soap being buried inside of you with no promise of friction or relieving stimulation. It was supposed to drive him crazy. It was supposed to make him desperate for you...make him beg for you.

However, it seemed that your devious plan fell apart when he decided to take advantage of it and turn the tables on you.

"I don't know why you're complainin' so much," He chuckled, completely unbothered. "This was your idea, sweet stuff."

So now, you were stuck with him taunting you and torturing you with his cock by doing nothing with it - and he was too invested in his stupid soccer/football game to even think about giving in. His eyes were glued to the TV screen behind you, his gaze barely peeling away for merely a moment.

He was having fun watching you fall apart over his attention being elsewhere in a situation where you were fully naked and at his disposal. The circumstances were great for an even better lovemaking session. But Soap was having too much fun playing the game you originally intended to play.

"I might as well go home at this point," You growled, seriously considering getting up and leaving. "So fucking annoying."

At this point, it was beginning to piss you off more than anything. It was the frustration with his stubbornness and irritation for not getting what you wanted. Frankly, you were beginning to feel bad for previously wishing this upon him.

"Hey...don't be like that," He said in a tone that was demanding, but also sympathetic. "We're havin' fun, princess."

His eyes were set on you now, his irises moving back and forth as he focused on your expression to see if this was beginning to become too much for you. Soap could be a bit intentionally aggressive in the bedroom sometimes, but he never let it get to the point where you weren't enjoying yourself.

He studied carefully, looking for anything that let him know he needed to stop. You were definitely getting antsy, and every minute that passed you were growing more needy.

But you weren't at your breaking point...yet.

"You're having fun," You growled, tears beginning to form in your lower lash line. "I'm not getting-"

To shut you up, Soap gave a quick, firm thrust up into you, making a strained cry leave your throat at the feeling of finally having some kind of movement. Soap let out a low, erotic groan at the sound of your wetness getting pushed around and the sight of it smeared onto his lower stomach made his cock twitch within you. He stayed still for a moment, only moving again when your shoulders relaxed.

He watched your expression as he lifted you off of his cock just enough before sinking you back down, his hips rolling up to thrust into you. You visibly shuddered, a whimpered plea for more sounding from you.

He fucked you slow for a bit, giving you just enough to begin to satisfy you, but not enough to curb your craving for him. He saw your blown pupils and flushed skin, tell-tale signs that you were completely maxed out and ready for more.

Too bad he had a soccer game to watch.

His hip movements stopped, and you were back to square one - completely swallowing his cock between your legs, but no promise or sign of anything more. The look on your face was priceless - an overwhelming expression of disappointment, disbelief, and betrayal. Soap would've felt bad for you...except he didn't.

"You're...you're gonna fuck me, right?" You asked, words breathy and voice barely audible.

He gave a chuckle so mischievous and smug that it almost made you tear up again. He reached for one of your hands, pressing your knuckles to his lips with a smirk.

"Sure, I'll fuck you..." He gave a shit eating grin when he saw your eyes light up. "...if they win."

Against your better judgment, you turned your head to look at the TV, your stomach dropping when you saw that the game was just over halfway through the first half...and the scores were tied. Not only did you have another half to go, but there was a chance that you might make it to the end of the game and receive no end to this torture at all. Maybe if you were lucky, you could convince him during halftime.

Soap laughed again at your agitated look, giving your backside a playful squeeze.

"Cheer up, pretty girl. They've had a good year so far," He said, referring to his preferred team. "Your odds are lookin' good."

Soap wasn't showing any signs of letting up, and you didn't have a choice but to endure the rest of this game and hope for a winning game.

This was going to be the longest game of your life.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

hi! will you write an aegon x reader imagine in which they are married out of love. and after she gives birth, alicent (or otto idk) requests to see her child like she did to rhaenyra. like what would aegon do to see his wife in pain and how would he react? thank you!

Ugh, I live for this type of angst!!! I reckon Aegon would be so fucking pisssssed. How dare they try to get you to lift a finger, let alone stand after birthing his child!!!! sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy xx

Our Child.

PAIRING: Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,948.

WARNINGS: swearing, fluff, angst, Dad!Aegon, mentions of pregnancy/birth, mentions of bullying.

A/N - I apologise for getting carried away with the beginning lmao, but I felt the need to lay some background, so don't mind me. hope you enjoy!

Within this realm, gossip and scepticism was not unfamiliar territory. Especially regarding the livelihood and innocence of maidens such as yourself, whispers were constant, back and forth, the ongoing judgement would never be silenced although, you'd grown ignorant to. It did not matter, many accused you of being a whore, many expressed their disgust over hearing your so-called promiscuous nature, and many had ridiculed your poor upbringing.

"Surely, she's bedded men before, and the Prince seems to not mind? I heard she was betrothed to a farmer in the North, although ran away."

"Aegon is no saint either... Although he is a man, and men have needs."

"What would the Prince want with someone of her kind? She has nothing to offer, not even a dowry, and he is to be King."

The scrutiny was constant, and Aegon knew at times, no matter how well you masked it, that the words stung. He knew your story, having allowed him and granting him the time to really get to know you, Aegon had pestered you for so long, he listened and knew your truth.

The rest were all lies, deceit and gossip, for many lords had intended for their own daughters to wed the King to be.

"The realm have already made up their minds, Aegon, I stand no chance against them."

Aegon did not care. He loved you undeniably, and whatever he saw in you, made him a better man.

"They can answer to me, I'd like to hear their judgement directly."

It was true, no one dared to question Aegon's intentions with you, not at least in front of him. First off, he had a dragon. Secondly, a terribly, quick temper, the notorious Targaryen temper... The two fused well together depending on who asked.

Overtime, just as you always had, the scrutiny of the high class and council did not matter to you, for it was the least of your concerns.

Although, it bothered you greatly that his mother, Queen Alicent, had tuned into such gossip and determined herself that you unworthy.

She did not completely ignore your presence in the castle, although she was cold. She never warmed unto you like she did with other high-borne ladies, nor did she give you the chance to speak or tell your truth. Her mind was made.

Alicent was certain that you had other intentions with her son, that you'd wanted riches, gold, money, anything to help redeem your family's status in society. She assumed that you would use the Crown in all its glory, all through Aegon.

"I see you as you are, Y/N. Aegon may think with his cock when it comes to you, although I see right through you," Her words cut sharp as Valyrian blade, left you defeated and speechless.

Aegon knew of this, for he could tell how quickly your mood had shifted. He knew of his mother's sour attitude towards you, for she'd plead with him many times to let you go, even proposing the idea of offering you money in return that you leave King's Landing for good.

In despite of the adversity, Aegon held his ground, for one of the first times in his life. He remained with you, by your side relentlessly, and defended your honour. He often returned to your chambers tiresome of the repetitive quarrelling with his mother about you, and yet he did not intend to stop, until she'd accepted you. In time, he had asked for your hand, wedding you in a private ceremony, upholding his Valyrian heritage, and not before long, you were with child, Aegon's child and his rightful heir.

****

The birthing was difficult to say the least, going on for a fair few hours in the night, right until sunlight could be seen in the horizon. The instant cry of your newborn babe filled the room, and much to your relief, caused you to beam with a smile on your face, as you embraced the small bub in your arms.

"A boy, your Grace. Kicking like a goat," The experienced midwife exclaimed, as she tended to the sweat dripping on your face, and the blood marked on your cheeks, from kissing the babe, trying to make you somewhat decent if Aegon was to return.

Aegon although, desperate to be with you, was caught in a council meeting. Much to his dismay, his abrupt marriage to you left many lords in uproar as his family had promised them the opportunities for their daughters to meet the young Prince, determined to see if he'd take a liking to one of the them. Many now furious at the Crown, refusing to pay taxes and levies.

As you cradled the baby in your arms, enamoured by the bundle of joy, little shrouds of hair on his head, parallel to his father's Targaryen heritage, his nose even a copy of Aegon's. It was his little twin. Trying to take your son's presence all in, was suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door, jolting your attention towards the entrance. Your heart raced with excitement, as you'd relished in the image of Aegon rushing through to your bedside, meeting his newborn son for the first moment ever.

Much to your disappointment it was a knight, although, one that you'd grown familiar to seeing in the Queen's company.

"Apologies to bother you, your Grace. Although, Queen Alicent wishes to see you and the babe at this very moment."

A puzzled look drenched your face, as you scanned the faces of the midwives and maester present during your birth, each of them sharing a discerning look, some quickly looking to their shuffling feet, trying to seem busy.

"Right now?" You stuttered, holding your newborn tightly instinctively.

The knight merely nodded, as though hesitant to giving such orders considering the ordeal you'd endured just mere minutes ago.

Now you'd grown annoyed, you gestured for one of the midwives to hold your dear son, who continued to wail as he left your arms, whilst the others helped you to your feet, blood drenched clothes, pooling down your legs as you gained steadiness.

You couldn't stand by yourself, your head whirling and your belly and thighs aching in a dull pain, sudden movements and long strides caused sharp pains to bellow your lower back and hips, cramping your muscles. It was pain you'd never felt like before.

The maester attempted to convince you of taking milk of the poppy for the walk, although short, would be tormenting with the stairs you had to conquer.

Although, milk of the poppy made you feel weaker, less conscious. You did not want to wish dropping the babe in your arms, nor be less alert for Alicent.

The midwives carefully donned you in a clean, silk gown, attempting to make you as decent and proper as possible, for people began to bustle through the castle now. Hearing their conversations and steps outside the door, for it was morning and you'd grown familiar to its routine.

"Y/N dearest, perhaps we can send a message to the Queen that your condition does not allow for you to travel currently-" The maester pitied.

"No, it is fine. If this is what the Queen wants, this is what she shall get."

The midwife that had held your son, returned him to your arms, as the knight helped to guide you out, holding out his armoured arm as you gripped it tightly for support. Thankfully, he did not rush you, for he could see how slow and careful you were taking your steps.

Some lords and ladies passing by would congratulate you, whilst others remained ignorant to your presence, and some in pure shock that you were travelling in such a state.

Their whispers again, filled the morning air, although before reaching the steps, you'd taken a glance at your newborn son, snug in his blankets. Again, the same, warm smile gleamed on your face as you watched him, before a sharp pain pierced through your lower abdomen. Your grip on the knight tensed and he knew immediately, questioning if you wished to turn back.

"No-No, let's just fucking go."

As you took the first, agonising step up, a familiar voice yelled out your name. Slowly turning back, your body straining, resisting all the physical movement, you could see Aegon down the other side of the corridor, rushing past as he reached your side.

"What's the meaning of this, where are you going in such a state?"

He kept his focus on you, oblivious to the babe in your arms, as one hand massaged your back, whilst the other held your arm for support, as you began to cower in pain.

"Ughh-Y-Your mother, wanted t-to see the babe, now."

You stuttered, your voice trembling as the pain worsened the more you remained on your feet, becoming breathless by the second.

As you mentioned the babe, Aegon looked down, his eyes meeting his newborn son, a cherished look on his face appeared for a split second, before he realised the situation. His eyes darted towards the knight and commanded that he tell his mother, "That would not be wise, if she so wishes to see the babe, she can come down herself."

You reassured the knight that you were fine, as Aegon took his place by your side, turning you back around to your chambers, the midwives still present as they remained cleaning the bloody scene, were relieved to see you return. They all helped you back down cautiously, propping pillows behind your back for support, even preparing a small cup of milk of the poppy, now that you were rested in bed.

"What were you thinking Y/N? Don't you ever think that you need to prove yourself like that, my mother can answer to me."

"I-I don't know, Aegon. She is the Queen, a-and I thought... I am sorry husband."

Aegon had been pacing himself up and down the room, as the midwives left to give you both peace and privacy, shaking and rubbing his head. Out of fury, he slammed his fist against the wooden post of the bed railing, before calming himself. Seating himself down by your side, as he ran his fingers through his short, tussled platinum hair. A low sigh escaping his mouth, as he exchanged a worried look on his face, your hand reaching over to hold his reddened knuckles, as your thumb grazed the small, fresh cut.

"You-You my dearest, need not to apologise, you did nothing wrong. I just cannot fathom how my mother think it okay to torment you like that."

"I-I do not know, Aegon. But rest assured, our son is happy and healthy, come-"

You pulled his fingers, beckoning to come closer, as you pulled down the cover on your son's little face, despite all the mayhem that ensued following his birth, he remained quiet and slept. Unphased by the drama of his presence, he was your calm before the storm.

"He's beautiful isn't he? Our child." You softly whisper, as you looked up from the babe to Aegon, and back down again, gently cradling him in your arms.

Aegon's arm wrapped beneath yours, as his free hand, a finger gently grazed over his son's nose, dotting it. Helplessly, a smile beamed up on his face, as his son cooed against his father's touch.

"As angelic as his mother is." He uttered, before resting his head against your shoulder.

"She will be dealt with, Y/N. Rest assured, I will speak with her and it will be the last time we speak of this matter again. She did not deem me fit to be King before, she will now."

[anomaly-hivemind]

Whose Better ☆ Gang orca x Reader x Shishido | Kinktober Day 18

Summary: It had all started over a simple joke you had said absentmindedly.

Word Count: 1081

Tags: spitroasting, large cock, roughsex, non-human genitalia, rivals with benefits,

It had all started over a simple joke you had said absentmindedly, and now the two heroes were fighting each other like they tend to already do, but now there was an added match you had thrown into the fires of their rivalry.   This is how you ended up in this oversized bed, stripped of your clothes and sandwiched between the pro heroes.  

"It's not like you get with many women anyway," Shishido said while holding your hips and grinding into you a little. Whether it was intentional or not, you can’t tell them again. You don’t mind the feeling. 

"I can actually satisfy women the first time around, but you can't say the same. "  Sakamata said he was holding one of your legs open; you look over to him before talking. 

“You must be around each other a LOT to know these things so well.” You muttered to yourself more than you did to them because neither of them was listening to you.

Couldn't help but think or at least assume that these two had some kind of relationship beyond just their rivalry.  The comments and verbal jabs to each seem too personal, too intimate, and a bit private. You wouldn't even be surprised if these two have done countless other things besides fight and bicker behind closed doors. Their tension goes beyond whose better than you were certain.  You were merely an outlet that they intended to use in the current situation. 

Another thing that you didn’t mind about this whole situation was  They were both rather entertaining, and the way they sandwiched your naked body kept you nice and warm as well.   

“I've never seen you remotely have a partner” Shishido gives Sakamata a shit-eating grin and pulls you back onto him. Your body is tilted to that unbalanced angle. 

“ Obviously, I wouldn't be flaunting them around public spaces for their safety, use your head”  Gangorca scolded him as if he had been tried by a toddler.

“He does have a point,” You murmured, but this time, your comment did catch their attention.

“Whose side are you on!” shishido moves back, and you get ready to fall backward onto the bed.

“Obviously, the one common sense.”  Sakamata catches you and holds you against his exposed chest, his large hands holding on to you firmly. Where did his shirt go? You don't know…

“That's supposed to be you.”  Shishido yanks you from Sakamata, and you let out a dry ow as you get jostled back and forth

“Do you really want me to answer that…” You've got a little dizzy from  being somewhat aggressively shaken between the two men.

“Fuck…me” You huff, and the shaking of your body stops, and with that, your dizziness with it.

“That's a good idea. Then we can prove who's really the better one.” Shishido started to strip out of his clothes to become as naked as you are.

“Wait, what?” You didn't actually process what he said, and you're not too sure if you understood him correctly. What are they doing?

“This is one way to prove things.” Sakamata takes off his pants and undergarments. Are you really about to witness a literal dick-measuring contest?  You were watching the two as they had left you sitting on the bed so they could compare sizes. It was completely ridiculous. 

“You know that isn't going to prove much of anything right. Especially if your goal is to please women.”  They both seem to think about your words for a short moment.

“Guess you'll be what proves who's better,” they kind of said in a messy version of unison as they walked towards you with a new look at determination, hunger and desire.

—-----------------

“Yeah, this will show you who the best really is,” Shishido groaned as he thrusted into your mouth. Your head rested on his raised leg as he fucked your mouth at an angle.  He gave you little time to adjust before he was roughly pushing into your mouth.  Not that you were complaining,

“We’ll see about that” Sakamata held your hip as his thick but slim cock filled you up before being pulled all the way out of you.

  You were on cloud nine, if not a bit overwhelmed. Once you get used to the completely different rhythms pounding into you, they will switch something up.  They both pull away from you and flip you on your back, Sakamata crossing your legs over your stomach an fucking into your lifted cunt. With Shishido slapping his dick on top of your face before jerking on top of you. You look up and feel the need to stir the pot.

“Who's better at kissing?” You smirk and move, quickly taking Shishido back into the depths of your mouth.  

“How the hell are we supposed to do that when you're sucking dick?!” Shishido let out a cursed moan, feeling your mouth wrapped around his length.

“She wants us to decide that, obviously.”  He rams his hips into you before grabbing the other man's shoulder.

“I'll show you!” They moved closer together, which only moved them deeper into you from opposite ends.

Before you knew it, when you looked back up after being lost in your own head, you saw the two rivals locking lips. As they pushed your body back and forth, Sakamata and Shishido’s tongues twirled around each other. The kiss was passionate and heated, the kind that certainly led to third base if you ignored the fact that you all were already there. 

When they pulled apart, a string of saliva connected their lips, and you could hear their low growls. They exchanged words, each claiming that each one was the better kisser before that went back in for another, seemingly needing more judgment.

Just when you were about to come, they pulled out and jerked above you. Your hands traveled down to your cunt, teasing and circling it until your legs tensed and shook, and you released the waves of ecstasy upon yourself. A wanton moan escaped your mouth. You could hear their moans above you as pleasure coursed through your being. Warm spurts on cum decorated your body as the two pros worked out their semen above you.

After the three of you caught your breath, the two pros looked down at you expectantly, waiting for any answer to the question that had slipped your mind for a moment.

“Would you guys be mad if I said it was a tie?”

[brain-depositary]

Okay, here are Arcane spoilers for Act 2. I have thoughts on Viktor, as there's been a lot of back and forth over whether what we're seeing is really him or if he is being controlled by the hexcore/arcane. And people are missing the narrative explanations, which seem to make what happened really obvious. And the biggest sign of this is that Viktor has been hallucinating Sky the whole time. The man has clearly lost his marbles.

The show is very clear that Sky is not there physically, but she's also absolutely not there mentally, spiritually, magically, whathaveyou. Her ghost isn't in the hexcore or whatever. There's simply no way.

It's not that we know for sure there are no ghosts in the world of Arcane. It hasn't been proven one way or the other that they exist. All sorts of fantastical things exist in Arcane and maybe ghosts do, too. But we know Sky isn't one because it makes no narrative sense for her to be.

Thematically, all of Arcane has been about people handling grief and loss not just poorly, but destructively. Powder hallucinates the people she's lost as critical voices and behaves erratically and dangerously whenever they do. Both Vander and Silco twist Vi and Powder's mother's dreams of peace into more violence and oppression. Jayce can't deal with the loss of Viktor and uses the hexcore to save him which Viktor specifically told him to destroy. Caitlyn becomes a dictator after her mother's death and uses the ventilation system her mother created against the very people it was intended to help. Ambessa has gone on a rampage for her dead son who preferred bloodless subterfuge, and I have a feeling Singed's daughter would approve of all the things her father is trying to do to bring her back, had she ever had the chance to know.

But Viktor, after losing Sky and her dreams, just kind of gets her back, and fulfills them? Yeah, no, I'm calling bullshit. Viktor is not going to be the only one exempt from the Arcane pain train. This would be bad writing.

Sky isn't a ghost here. She's gone. The version of her in the hexcore is purely a product of Viktor's imagination. We don't see Sky a lot, but what little we do, she's different, much more confident. It's not her. Viktor is handling his loss badly, too, but his method of doing so is just wholesale denying that it happened. Sky isn't dead, she's right there. Her dreams aren't gone, they're perfectly within reach. It doesn't matter if he dies now because he's succeeded in his goals of helping people. The sick are healed, the hungry are fed. The commune is thriving. Everything is great.

With whatever power he gained from the hexcore, he's able to project this denial onto the real world, at least for a little while. Everything in his little bubble DOES seem great, but the cracks in the facade come early. When Salo talks to Jayce in the overflow chamber, Jayce's breath condenses, while Salo's does not, implying that he's not breathing. Also, Salo's turnover at the commune is disturbingly quick -- his original personality just does not seem to be there anymore, despite his insistence otherwise. The "no weapons" rule, while idealistic, cannot realistically be enforced -- as much as Viktor denied, reality was going to come crashing in and he was going to be unprepared for it, because he just decided he didn't have to be. Huck didn't even seem afraid at all denying a heavily armed warlord and her contingent entry without disarming first when literally his only character trait has been being cowardly. There's nothing in him anymore.

So, is Viktor being mind controlled, or is this the same Viktor we've known the whole time? Well, it's not really either. This is Viktor snapping and having a mental breakdown. This is Viktor's equivalent of Jinx's tea party at the end of season 1, except he has far more power to make it last longer, seem nicer, and drag far more people into it. Probably, the hexcore is taking advantage of Viktor's vision to build its hivemind, but the vision itself is all Viktor.

So, given all this, my prediction is: Viktor will be salvaged and revived by Singed. He will get a reality check, that Sky is really gone, that the people he healed are hollowed-out husks, that the peace he created was too fragile to last -- and he won't care, he will try to get it back by any means necessary, even if he doesn't have the arcane abilities or ability to completely deny reality that he used to have. And this will create a bitter person, similar to the character we know as the Machine Herald from League of Legends.

[darkbluekies]

edmund always makes a big deal about the fact people should care about him simply because he’s royalty. sometimes i think that he thinks without his silly titles he’d be nothing. would there be anyway to let edmund know that his most important title is not ‘my king’, but in reality ‘my precious most darling husband’??? or would it simply never quite get through his thick skull :/ (great writing by the way, sorry for spamming your notifications recently♥️)

(This got longer than I intended!! I kind of want to make an oneshot out of this now because vulnerable edmund>>>>)

this made me so sad, i haven't thought about that, but it makes so much sense

I went through some of my texts and found evidence that he uses his title to his advantage

So I think that he ABSOLUTELY would be lost without his titles. He is most likely very insecure because of the loss of a real parent figure, so this is the only thing he can rely and back up on.

I think that it would be very hard to convince him that he is more than his titles because that is what he has been fed since he was a kid: he is the future king, he is the one to rule the kingdom, he is special, he is chose, he is everything ... and so forth. Of course he believes it because he is that role. He is KING Edmund. Without the 'king' part, who is he then? He doesn't know who 'Edmund' is. That person disappeared completely when his parents died and he became the king.

Thankfully, your presence allows him to dip back into the 19 year old guy he actually is, and find who Edmund is. He can be silly, funny and do teenage shit without a care in the world.

If you'd tell him that his titles don't matter and that you see him as your darling husband, he would probably cry. He never cries since he doesn't think a king should show weaknesses, but I think that he would break down in tears, because I do think that he feels that everyone likes him because he's the king, not because of him. Just knowing that the one he loves the most isn't like everyone else would lift a heavy weight from his heart. He has been lonely and isolated since childhood, so knowing that he isn't alone anymore would make him happy.

Just be careful though, because the second you tell him this, he will never let you go. If there was a slight possibility of getting away from him earlier, there's impossible now ... because why would he let the only person that actually likes him slip away? His possessivness, jealousy and clinginess would become much, much worse, more people would die because of that, but he would be much, much happier<3

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: One Foot Out the Door (Won't You Come Back Inside?) 3/3

Hey, lookit! I finished a one-shot! Yes, I know three chapters is not a one-shot, but compared to my current WIP folder, this is positively a drabble.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (Buddie is mentioned, but one-sided in this)

Part One

Part Two

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Evan said tiredly. “Is that where the writing on the wall came from?” he asked, looking into Tommy’s eyes with that same touch of fear that was making Tommy's heart hurt. Not trusting his voice, Tommy just nodded. Evan grimaced, squeezing his hands. “I was kind of hoping you hadn't noticed.”

Tommy froze, his first instinct to pull away, to curl in on himself–protect his vulnerable points–because what the hell? Evan knew? Evan already knew Eddie loved him, had already realized? When? How? How long?!

But Evan was still standing as close as he usually did, swaying into Tommy's personal space. He was still holding Tommy's hands in his strong, steady grip, still rubbing his thumb back and forth over the rough, scarred skin of Tommy's knuckles with the same soft, feather-light touch as he always did. As though Tommy was something worth treating gently, as though he was something to be held gently and treasured.

Why wasn't Evan pulling back, babbling apologies, and promising that he hadn't meant to hurt him. Why wasn't he tripping over himself saying that he loved Tommy, sure, but it was Eddie, didn't Tommy understand? He stared at Tommy's hands with an air of exhausted, saddened resignation…but it didn't feel like Tommy had been expecting it to. Evan's sadness didn't feel directed at him. What was going on?

“I'm…I'm gonna need you to run that by me again,” he said carefully.

Evan sighed, bringing Tommy's hands up to kiss his fingers before letting go. “I know I don't always have the best, uh, situational awareness outside of burning buildings, but I'm not an idiot. I can tell when people are interested.” He lowered his voice, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture that Tommy could tell was more self-soothing than defensive. “And I know Eddie better than anyone. We're…we're working on it.”

Ah. There it was. His stomach dropped sickeningly, and he swallowed hard, reaching down deep for the focus he called on when making a particularly tricky landing or charging into a fire that was escaping control. The focus that let him concentrate only on his next move, let him take things step by step and not look at the big picture of how much danger he was in. He needed that to get through this.

He'd come here intending to fight…but he wasn't an idiot either. If Evan and Eddie were already “working on” something, then the fight was already lost.

God, losing Evan was going to hurt so damn much.

But he loved Evan. He loved Evan enough to want him to be happy. So he could do this. He could withdraw gracefully, make it as clean a break as possible for both of them. The last thing he could do for his boyfriend, before he lost the right to call Evan his anything. Maybe if he did this right, losing Evan wouldn't blow the life he'd been building around this, around them, to smithereens.

“--and Dr. Copeland's really been helping us talk through things. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you, but Eddie's…Eddie's not ready to come out yet and I promised him I wouldn't say anything unless it started causing problems for us.”

Evan was talking. Evan was talking quite a lot actually, his words coming faster and faster in a rapidly increasing stream that always signaled he was nervous, worried about not being understood. It was different from the way he picked up steam when he was excited about something, though Tommy couldn’t have told you how.

Abruptly, Evan broke off, reaching up to lay his hand against Tommy’s cheek. Tommy had to hold himself back from leaning into the touch, the calloused fingertips that were as familiar as his own by now. “I should’ve noticed this was upsetting you,” he said seriously. “That’s on me. I should’ve asked Eddie if I could talk to you sooner…he would’ve let me, I know he would. I guess—I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping we could smooth everything over before anyone figured anything out.” He shook his head, stroking Tommy’s cheekbone with his thumb like he wasn’t about to break Tommy’s fucking heart.

Gently as possible, of course. Evan was too kind to be anything but gentle. But it didn’t matter how gently you were lowered if the drop was a thousand-foot cliff.

“Babe, I promise, we already talked about it. I already told Eddie I wasn’t—well. We’ve talked about it. I’ll go on a different shift if it bothers you. I don’t…I don’t really want to move houses, but there’s plenty of places that’ll take me, so that’s an option too. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Just say the word.” Evan’s brow furrowed, his face settling into the determined cast that meant he was committed to whatever course he was laying down, be it for good or ill.

And…Tommy didn’t quite hear a record scratch in his head.

But that wasn’t far off as a description.

“What?”

Evan tilted his head slightly. “I mean. Ideally nothing changes. Eddie’s…Eddie’s my partner. I can’t really imagine working with someone else. But I, I, I get it. That’s a huge ask, even if Eddie’s your friend, too.”

“No, I—what?” Tommy was suddenly struck with the feeling that they were having two entirely different conversations.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this. I—you have every right to be angry about it. I just…I know how you feel about outing people. And I mean, me too! I’d never, I’d never do that to someone, and like I said, I was really hoping it wouldn’t be a problem.” His voice changed again, crossing the threshold into desperation, a slight quaver on the end of each word that told Tommy his boyfriend’s anxiety was ratcheting up with every passing second. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt. Or Eddie.”

This wasn’t the way this conversation was supposed to go. This sounded like…didn’t Evan understand? “Evan,” Tommy said, feeling the words scrape over his throat like broken glass. “Evan, he’s in love with you.”

He could not let himself hope he was hearing his boyfriend correctly until he was sure Evan understood exactly what was on the table here. What he’d been seeing practically from the moment he and Evan first started dating.

Evan reeled back a little, his frown deepening. And then…and then he watched all of the puzzle pieces slot into place in his boyfriend’s brain. Those pretty, pretty eyes that Tommy loved getting lost in went wide, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh…oh, no. No. Tommy. Tommy, I know that,” he said softly. “But I’m in love with you.”

*

“I…I look, I’m not going to insult you, here,” Evan sighed, burrowing deeper into Tommy’s side and throwing an arm over his stomach. The two of them were sprawled on Evan’s couch, Evan tucked as close to Tommy’s body as he could manage. Given that he was over six feet tall and pretty much solid muscle, it was pretty impressively close. “If Eddie and I had figured ourselves out sooner…or if Eddie had said something back when we were first dating, well. It would have been a different story.”

Tommy could not help tightening his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Right person, wrong time,” he said, the words barely carrying even the short distance between them. He felt Evan give a small nod, and could not bring himself to look down at his boyfriend. The man he loved. His, still, because Evan wasn’t trying to let him down gently. Wasn’t trying to leave. He couldn’t believe it.

He…he couldn’t believe it.

“Then why isn’t it right person, right time now?” he forced himself to ask. It felt stupid. Evan said he didn’t want to leave him, why was he looking a gift horse in the mouth? He had to know, though. He had to dig down to the very root of this whole mess, this single, unignorable thing that had been haunting his relationship with Evan all this time, standing in the way of the future he so desperately wanted with this man. He had to dig it out, once and for all.

Evan was silent for long enough that it started to make him nervous. Then his arm tightened across Tommy’s stomach. “Because we’re not,” he said finally. “I’m not the right person for him anymore…and he’s not the right person for me. Me and Eddie—whatever chance we had, it’s gone.” He shifted suddenly, sitting up slightly so he could look Tommy in the eye. “And I’m okay with that, Tommy. I don’t…I don’t regret that. I love you, okay? I love you. Full stop. No qualifiers.”

Evan could be insecure, sometimes. Unsure of himself. But he had never shied away from being honest with Tommy. Even when honesty was difficult, or painful. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry that Evan had hidden the fact that Eddie had told him he was in love with him…Eddie was Evan’s best friend above all else, and he’d been trying to stay loyal to both of them. It had been an impossible position. And…he hadn’t exactly been honest with Evan, either, had he? He should have talked to him about his doubts a long time ago. Especially when they became an obstacle to talking about the future.

“So Eddie’s been seeing Dr. Copeland with you?” he asked when Evan settled his head back on his shoulder. He carded his fingers through Evan’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Evan made a soft, contented sound.

“I mean, not as a patient or anything. More like…he comes and sits in on some of my regular sessions and she helps facilitate conversations. We—the most important thing is Chris doesn’t get hurt, you know? We needed to make sure any issues between us don’t affect him. But she’s also helping me set new boundaries, and just be mindful of not giving him false hope. Helping us keep communicating and figure out if we need some distance, and how that would work.”

Tommy hummed to himself, and then pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead. “That must be hard for him,” he mused out loud.

Loving Evan and not being able to have him? Tommy was probably the only person in the world who could understand exactly how hard that would be. He’d been so sure it was going to be him on that end of this equation…and Eddie was his friend, too. One of his best friends. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but compassion.

“We’ve made it through hard things before,” Evan murmured. “Eddie…Eddie’s my best friend. He’s family. We’re not letting this ruin that.” He turned in Tommy’s arms, bringing himself impossibly closer. “But I meant what I said. I’m not letting this ruin us, either. If you need me to take a step back, I will. I mean—Eddie’s willing, too, but I just finished that HazMat certification, and my heavy rescue certs are more recent than his. Right now, it’d be easier for me to transfer somewhere.”

At that, Tommy wrapped his other arm around Evan’s waist and heaved, rolling him so that he was sitting on Tommy’s lap, facing him. “You’d really leave the 118 for me?” he asked in stunned disbelief.

Evan framed his face with his hands, leaning down to kiss him. Just a brief press of their lips together, but it was full of promise. “I’m never gonna lose the 118,” he said. “I know that…better than I ever have. But yeah, I don’t…I don’t need to work there, anymore. Not the way I did when I first started. You have no idea how much you helped get me there.”

“Baby…” he whispered, everything else he wanted to say getting lodged in his throat. Evan grinned at him crookedly, not a trace of doubt in his blue, blue eyes, and kissed him again. Deeper. Firmer.

Kissing Evan was always a delight, but this felt different. This felt like forever.

And in the face of forever, Tommy found he could finally chase away the shadow that had been haunting them.

“I’d never ask you to do that,” he said when they finally broke apart. He ran his hands up and down his boyfriend’s sides, loving the way he arched like a cat into the touch. “I trust you. I trust Eddie. If you say we can get through this, then that’s what we’re going to do.” He knew Evan hadn’t just been placating him, but the brilliant grin that broke out across his face told Tommy he’d said exactly the right thing. He answered it with his own, sliding his hands further down to rest on his boyfriend’s hips. “One condition, though.”

“Name it,” Evan said instantly, tilting his head curiously.

They weren’t on a romantic trip, or at a fancy dinner. There weren’t flowers or candlelight or any of the other trappings he’d imagined whenever he let himself indulge in thinking about how he might take the next steps with Evan. Curled together on his couch, basking in the knowledge that they were going to be okay…that they’d come face to face with a challenge that would have ended most other couples and were going to come out stronger for it…he found the setting didn’t matter.

“Come live with me when your lease is up. Hell, come now. Come home,” he said.

If he’d thought Evan’s smile had been bright before, this one was blinding. “Thought you’d never ask.”

[runningfrom2am]

empty threats // LTPF

summary: you get in trouble at school, and don't want to go home just yet.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. they're just little in this one :'), so no real warnings. besides r being a little violent and threatening, but what's new lol. non-descript mentions and implications of abuse.

a/n: hi! thought i'd post this before s2 of cold nights bc,,, i'm not ready to let this series go just yet lol. this was (kind of) requested a couple of times so i do intend to write another thing ab them before the series! maybe p2 to 'the finer things in life'? lmk

(also would y'all call me crazy if i said this was based on something i actually did in middle school? yes? okay in that case that was a joke. thanks.)

series masterlist // playlist

You were having a bad day. A bad week. Bad month. The academy had not been treating you well this year- nothing really was. But school especially was kicking your ass.

You did well, consistently. A's, A+'s, and it was only at the small cost of your sanity. You hardly slept anymore- which is part of the reason your father started allowing you to wear makeup at the beginning of the year. To hide how dark the circles under your eyes were- how pale you were getting from lack of sunlight and exercise, and the bruises that happened to be visible on warmer days where you weren't required to wear your blazer.

You hadn't slept in a week, you were sure. It was hard to tell. Days and nights blurred together; you were effectively a zombie at fourteen. Even you knew that wasn't right.

"Y/N/N." You didn't realize you were falling asleep leaning on your palm, elbow pressed uncomfortably against the surface of the desk.

"Huh?" You blink rapidly, looking over to the source of your name.

"You okay?" Coryo chuckles quietly, looking you over as he almost always did.

"Never been better." You sigh, shaking your head to refocus yourself on writing the notes on the board.

"You sure about that? I'm not exactly inclined to believe you."

"Yes." You nod, having to lean to the side to even see the board. You didn't notice when Arachne finished her notes and stood right in your line of sight to talk to Livia, who was sitting in front of you.

Yes, your teacher had allowed you to discuss upcoming assignments when you were finished copying down the paragraphs on the board, but that didn't mean Arachne should block your view.

"Arachne." You say, waving for her to move when she looks down at you.

"Have you no manners?" She asks, tilting her head at you.

"Move. Please." You really don't have the patience to argue.

"No thank you, I'm alright here." She smiles, sickly sweet, before promptly returning to her conversation.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in before slowly letting it out through your nose. "I'm trying to write, and your massive head is blocking the entire board. Move, now."

Coryo snickers beside you, his notes already long done as he sits back to watch.

"We're trying to have a conversation. Some of us have lives outside of school, you know." Arachne digs her grave deeper, crossing her arms as she stares down at you.

You grip your pen in your hand so tight you're afraid it might break.

"Don't." Coryo says to you, reaching out to grab your shoulder in an effort to calm you. He knew this look on you; you looked like you were about to detonate.

You ignore him, trying to look past her again, but she takes a sidestep to the left intentionally blocking your view now. Back and forth, whichever way you lean she's conveniently moving to be right in your line of sight. You try to listen to Coryo and not cause a scene, you really do, but your patience was deteriorating by the second.

"Arachne, I swear to god I will hit you so hard with this book if you don't get out of my way that you'll have worse memory loss than usual. Move."

"Y/N/N, here, let's just switch. You can see just fine from-" Your friend suggests, already standing up to move and open his seat to you.

"Oh, is that so?" The girl laughs at you. "It's not like these notes will ever matter to you. You probably don't even know what that-"

Within a second you're standing, grabbing the textbook from your desk and swinging it at her.

It hits the side of her head with a loud crack that has her stumbling back. Other students are laughing, you can hear it, but only echoes as you breathe heavily.

You smile as she clutches the side of her head, stumbling down into her empty seat. "Thank you." You nod, moving to sit back down and resume taking your notes. Suddenly, you're feeling much more awake; refreshed at being able to channel your frustration into something physical.

Coryo stares at you, almost in shock. Almost, because Arachne should have known that coming from you, there was no such thing as an empty threat.

"Miss Y/L/N!" Your teachers voice bellows as Arachne starts to cry.

God, she's such a baby.

You aren't given the chance to defend yourself before Coryo is speaking up for you. "Sorry, Sir. She's just had a tough week." You shoot him a look and you can see the panic in his eyes, wracking his mind for a way to excuse your violence in a forgivable manner. "I'll take her down to the office." He's helping you up out of your seat before grabbing your books and your bag for you.

Your teacher clearly doesn't have the energy to get into it with you today so he nods, waving for the two of you to go.

"It's just, you know, lady problems." Coryo says as you pass the teacher on his way over to Arachne, who now has Livia fanning her face with a book as if that would help.

"Just, get her out of here." Your teacher says again.

"Of course you would know- just get your insane girlfriend away from me. I can't look at her anymore." Arachne whines, still clutching the side of her head.

You grit your teeth and jam your elbow into your friends ribs at the unnecessary comment right as you exit the doorway.

"Ow!" He winces, looking back to make sure no one saw. "I helped you!"

"I am not on my period, Coriolanus." You hiss, glaring up at him as he walks beside you. "You're such a pig."

"How am I supposed to know! I just know you assaulted Arachne and that's a hard act to excuse. I tried my best."

"You're lucky I'm not. If I was I'd gut you like a fish right now." You grumble, pulling your bag from his shoulder and giving him a shove back.

"I'll count myself lucky then." He chuckles. He never took anything mean you say to him too personally or too seriously. Your threats only ever seemed to be empty when they were directed at him.

"Coryo! Y/N/N! Wait!" You turn and cross your arms as you wait for Sejanus who's speed walking down the hall to catch up.

"Oh, you're late to the party." You grin, raising an eyebrow at him.

"He sent me to escort you guys, didn't want you to sneak off before actually going to the office." He explains as the three of you continue down the hall.

You groan, rolling your eyes. "Ugh, him too?"

"Gross." Coryo mutters.

"Excuse you, that was rude!" You laugh, bumping your shoulder against his arm. You didn't notice when he started to get taller than you, it seemingly happened overnight.

"And I stand by it." He replies, shaking his head at you as you gasp in mock offense.

"I'm wounded, Coryo. Truly."

"Yeah, you guys are never beating those allegations. Sorry." Sejanus laughs.

"True, but it would be nice if he didn't act like i'm repulsive all the time."

"I do not act like you're repulsive!"

"You guys argue like an old married couple. It's cute."

You don't know what prompted you to walk here. Anxiety, maybe, after the receptionist at the office was instructed by Dean Highbottom to call your father this afternoon while you were in the office.

You stand outside the entrance to Coryo's apartment building, pacing in your academy uniform. You stop, staring at the call panel.

"Level 12 Penthouse: Snow"

You chew your lip, looking down at your watch. It was almost five, you wasted time sitting in after school detention staring at the wall. Just press it. You didn't walk all this way just to go home anyways. Press it.

The buzzer is ringing out of the speaker before you can overthink it.

"Uh, hello?" His voice is crackly on the other end, hardly even audible if you weren't panicking over who would answer.

"Coryo, it's me. Can I come in?"

"Uh, hold on. I'll come down." His voice cuts out and you wait for the buzzer that signifies the door is unlocked, but it doesn't come.

You try the handle anyway, but it remains locked. You groan, peeking in for the first time through the large glass windows that made up the entrance to the lobby.

It was a damn mess in there. Garbage bags everywhere, it looked like the floors or the walls hadn't been cleaned in years. Why on earth was there no maintenance in his building? You knew he had a driver, a chef, maids to clean his own apartment, or so he said. Would it be so hard to have the building cleaned every week?

It's a good few minutes before you see your friend open the doors to the stairs, and looking over at the elevator while he walks up to the door you see there's a maintenance sign on it. That was broken, too. Your brow furrows as he walks up to the glass door, shoving it open.

"Y/N... What are you doing here?" He asks, and you give him a once over. He's still wearing his academy uniform, just like you, but without the skirt that drapes around his legs. The buttons are partially undone and buttoned unevenly.

"I, uh..." You start, giving a slight shake of your head. "Why are you still in your uniform?"

"I haven't had the chance to change.." He lies, eyeing you quizzically. He definitely won't be telling you that his only casual clothes are noticeably too small on him, ankles showing in the only pyjama pants he owns so he had to throw this back on in a rush. Usually, he just sleeps in his boxers and only leaves the house in dress clothes. "What's going on?" He asks, changing the subject.

You take a deep, shaky breath and shake your head. "I... was just hoping you'd want to hangout." You smile, but it's not convincing enough for him.

"Oh, uh, I'm a little busy right now..." He glances back inside.

"Of course. Yes. I'm sorry." You nod, slightly disappointed.

"But, I mean, it's just homework. If you have your stuff we could work on it together." He suggests, sensing your discomfort.

"Came straight from school!" You grin, patting your bag where it hangs at your waist.

"Uh, okay..." He chuckles a bit, checking the time on his watch before reaching past you to buzz his own apartment.

You wait for a moment before another voice rings out.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Coryo, did you lock yourself out again?" His cousin sighs.

"Again?" You gasp, covering your mouth as you laugh quietly at him.

His cheeks flush. "No, I didn't. I was hoping you could bring my school bag down to me, Y/N and I are going to hers to work on homework."

Your smile fades as he volunteers your home. The reason you came was because you didn't want to go back there. Not yet.

"I'll be right down!"

You hear the click of it disconnecting and he smiles at you. "Just give her a minute."

"We can't- Uh..." How to word this without sounding weird. "My brother has friends over, I think. They're always super loud so that's why I came here..."

"Oh, okay. Well..." He looks back inside again. "We can find somewhere else to go. My grandma'am is sleeping, that's all."

You're both lying to each others faces and neither of you knew.

"Sounds good." You nod. "My brother and his friends are just like, so annoying. I wish they would just get together and like... read or something..." You laugh nervously, rubbing your arm.

"I get it." He hums and you laugh.

"As if, Coryo, you are that younger brother."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"This is exactly how my little brother fights with me so..."

"Except I don't have siblings. So that's impossible."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't."

"You do!" You laugh. "You realize the genetic components have like... nothing to do with that, right? Tigris is effectively your sister. You live together, for christs sake. Besides, I know I'm right because of... everything." You gesture to him vaguely and he glares at you.

"That's why we get along so well." You smile sweetly at him. "I'm a big sister. I know exactly how to handle little brothers. And you're used to having a big sister around, so you tolerate me."

"Tigris is not my sister, and you are nothing like her."

You playfully roll your eyes. "I wouldn't know. But I would bet money that we have more in common than you know."

"Definitely not." He protests, shaking his head as Tigris steps out of the stairwell with his book bag in hand. She smiles and waves at you as she comes up to the door, opening it to hand it out to him.

"Thank you." He nods, and she turns to you, blocking the door from closing as she stands there.

"Y/N, how are you?" She smiles, holding her housecoat around herself. It had been a long time since you'd seen her- she left the academy before you were old enough to study in the same buildings.

"I'm well, thank you." You smile. "Yourself?"

"I'm good." She nods. "How is school treating you?"

You laugh, shrugging and reaching up to rub your eyes. "Well enough, I suppose. Gives me something to do."

She smiles, sadly, and nods. You look over at Coryo quickly. "Should we be going then?"

He nods. "Yes, we should. Thank you, Tigris."

"Of course." She grins, waving you off as you make your way back down the steps ahead of him.

Coryo throws his bag over his shoulder, rushing to follow you as he notices his mismatched buttons and quickly tries to fix it. "Where do you want to go?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Maybe the park? It's a nice day out." You offer.

He looks around. It wasn't that nice- there was a thin overcast of clouds that suggested it may start to rain, and there wasn't much time before the sun would set. "I mean, it looks like it's going to rain. Noise doesn't bother me, we could just go to your house."

You sigh, looking down at your feet as you walk in no particular direction, kicking a stone across the broken pavement. "No." You quickly dismiss it. "What about the old bomb shelter? I know how to get into the one on my block. There's an unlocked door."

Your friend wrinkles up his nose at the suggestion. "Isn't it gross and dusty and dark?"

"It's not that bad." You laugh. "Don't be a baby."

"Do you remember the bombings?" You ask, pushing aside an old curtain in the underground shelter.

"I don't think I could forget if I wished to." Coryo mutters, looking around. It was dusty, but you had found a light switch very quickly. The lights overhead flickered after years of not being used, but for some reason, power was still connected. Like they were still on standby, waiting for another flood of terrified people to swarm in during the night after years of being left untouched.

"Me neither." You hum, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. "We slept over there." You point vaguely to a far corner of the vast space of old bunk beds and tables.

"Cozy." Coryo mumbles, stepping around a crack in the ceiling where water had dripped down into a puddle on the floor.

You laugh as you place your bag down on a table, quickly removing your blazer to dust off the bench next to it so the two of you could sit. You won't get in any more trouble for dirtying your uniform than you already are for hitting your classmate.

You lay the red material down across it and use your palms to wipe the table so your friend would be more comfortable placing his stuff there. "Here, sit." You smile, patting the spot next to yourself.

"Thanks." He nods, eyes locked on the yellowing bruise that falls around your wrist. It was previously unnoticeable under the shadow of your blazer sleeve, but now with only your blue dress shirt slightly folded up, it was clear as day. To him, anyway. His eyes flick up to your face as you dig through your bag, so blissfully unaware that now he knows why you came to him instead of going home. He hadn't thought of it before.

"Well?" You turn, raising an eyebrow at him when he doesn't make an effort to move. "You scared or something? I don't bite."

He shakes himself out of his stupor of realization. Maybe one day he would say something, but that certainly wouldn't be today. "I'm pretty sure you do." He jokes, sliding into the spot next to you.

"Oh, how you think so little of me." You laugh as he starts pulling papers and books out of his bag. A small smile tugs on his lips, but he doesn't look at you. You tilt your head a little bit, watching his movements closely. He's so sophisticated for a boy who just turned fourteen.

"I was working on math before you showed up. Want to do that first?" His lips are moving suddenly, and you only notice after that he's looking at you.

"Oh, yes. Sure." You smile, quickly turning back to your own notebooks and pulling out the right one. You didn't want to work on homework, not at all, but it was better than being at home.

"What page are you on?" Coryo asks absentmindedly, flipping through his textbook to note both where he is and where you are. You didn't need his help, but he was happy to offer it.

"236. You?"

"250."

"You're fast." You giggle, shaking your head as you look at him.

"Well, I had an hour when I got home, so..."

"Right." You wonder as you stare at his blonde curls if they get poofy when he brushes it. It must. He clearly hasn't had a haircut in quite a while. You twist the ends of your own hair between your fingers. You haven't either.

Coryo's brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries to read in the mediocre lighting, copying down the equation he was working on.

"Why are you friends with me?" You ask impulsively, and his writing hand freezes for just a moment.

"Because... You're nice to me." He answers simply, resuming the question he was on.

"I'm not that nice to you." You giggle. "Everyone is nice to you, mostly."

"Yes, well, you're funny too. It seems that all our classmates have monkey brains, or something."

"So you think I'm smart?" You tease, leaning your chin on your palm.

"Aren't you?" He deflects the question back to you, not risking looking your way.

"I like to think so." You shrug. "But that's not a good reason to be friends with someone."

"Then why are you friends with me?"

You bite your lip, picking up your pencil and suddenly finding an interest in the bite marks you've left in the wood over the last week. "I don't know." You say honestly. "You're nice to me... I suppose." You laugh, seeing the irony in your response.

Coryo finally looks at you, smiling knowingly. "See?"

"Okay, fine. But I like to think we get along really well, don't you think?" You really don't want to do your homework, deciding it would be better to just talk anyway. That's why you went to him, you realize. You wanted to talk.

"Sejanus said we bicker like an old married couple." He chuckles.

"Well, yes, but he's wrong. Besides, an old couple wouldn't be married if they didn't at least get along most of the time."

He nods, tapping his pencil against his notebook. "I guess you're right." He agrees. "But we don't really fight, it's just... pretend. You know that, right?" He looks at you hopefully, trying to pick up on a sense of understanding in your eyes.

"Well, duh." You giggle nervously. "If we really fought I wouldn't be your friend. I'd hit you with a book, as we know."

He nods, but doesn't laugh at your joke. "I wouldn't hurt you on purpose. Ever." Don't look at her wrist, don't look at her wrist, don't look at-

"I know." You nod, speaking quieter now as you feel the seriousness in his tone. The smile on your face is genuine, but he can tell it's forced beyond sadness. "Maybe that's why I'm friends with you."

"That's a good reason." He says softly, matching your smile. "Trust is the most important thing."

You think he doesn't know how much that means to you, but he does. You force yourself to look away quickly, torn between the urges to both cry and kiss him. You'd never kissed anyone before, but you'd decided when other girls started having boyfriends who they only stayed with for a week that if you had to pick anyone, it would be Coryo. Something tells you he wouldn't break your heart.

"So you trust me?" You ask, blinking away tears as you pretend to focus on your schoolwork.

"Of course I do."

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