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pedrospatch · 2 months

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call it what it is

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel. fair warning, i am quite rusty.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: hi hello. i have not shared a wip in over 2 months. i was going back and forth on whether or not i wanted to share a fic with so much going on but decided i wanted to get back to doing what i enjoy. that and ofc that new footage was a boost of inspo. i am sending so, so much love to anyone who happens to see this author note, whether you read this fic or just happen to see this note in passing whilst scrolling. i know things have been tough, but i am here with you. <3

Joel wakes with a gentle start. Yawning, he rolls over from his side onto his back, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as warm, golden sunlight filters into the bedroom through the sheer, white linen curtains drawn over the window. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing slow, steady, and even. He’s still getting used to it, it seems. Waking this calmly, with a tranquil peace he had been so certain he would never in his life feel again. He knew it couldn’t be a mere coincidence the nightmares had all but stopped tormenting him in his sleep when the two of you stopped doing that awkward little tap dance around one another and began sharing a bed, a home, a life.

No more bolting upright in sheer panic in the middle of the night, heart pounding and drenched head to toe in a cold sweat. No more believing he’s failing in his sleep. No more waking up feeling like he’s lost something.

Even his dreams about Sarah had become so, so much more pleasant. Images of her in that field on that night were replaced by different memories, like watching her teammates dogpile her after she’d scored the winning goal in their soccer tournament, or the big, triumphant grin she’d flashed him over her chocolate milkshake as the pair sat in their usual corner booth at their favorite fifties-themed diner in Austin—much to Joel’s surprise, Sarah had politely declined her teammates’ invitation for pizza once the match ended, choosing to celebrate her victory with him. Just the two of them.

“Y’sure you don’t wanna go with your friends, kiddo?” he’d asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been certain she was approaching the age where she would start spending less and less time with her old man. “I wouldn’t mind, y’know.”

“Positive,” she had reassured him with a smile, looping her arm through his and leading him off the pitch. “I’d much rather be with you, dad.”

Rather than smelling metallic in his slumber, he smells the grass that stained her white and blue striped jersey. Her cheeks are smeared with dirt, not with crimson.

Stifling another loud yawn, Joel stretches his arm out over towards your side of the bed, his calloused fingers seeking the warmth and softness of your naked body—instead, all they find are empty sheets, cold and long abandoned. He turns his head, and as suspected, you are not laying there beside him. That’s hardly out of the ordinary. Out of the two of you, you were the early riser, up before the neighbors’ rooster even had the chance to sound the alarm. Joel knows how much you treasure your quiet mornings lounging on the porch swing he’d built for you as you watched the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee in hand. He often made a genuine effort to get up and join you, but lately, his patrol rotations had been all over the place thanks to a shortage of patrolmen. He found himself sleeping in whenever he had the chance, seeing as he never knew when he might have to work a damn double. Or maybe it was just his age catching up with him.

He checks the time and then rolls out of bed, groaning when his sore knees and his aching lower back protest his movement.

After taking a quick shower using whatever hot water the kid had left for him after her own shower—much to his annoyance, it was not very much—Joel brushes his teeth and gets dressed for the day before pulling on his boots and heading downstairs into the kitchen where he finds the culprit responsible for the cold downpour he’d been forced to wash himself under. Ellie’s sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her oatmeal around her bowl with her spoon as she flips through one of her comic books. Just as he’s about to greet her, he spots the clean, empty coffee pot on the kitchen counter and frowns. You hadn’t even made coffee yet?

Now, that—that is out of the ordinary.

“Where is she?” he asks.

“Well, good morning to you too, old man. Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking,” Ellie quips without looking up at him as she flips the page. She mumbles something under her breath he doesn’t quite catch, something like, and you get on my ass about my manners?

Rolling his eyes, Joel snorts in response and pads over to the coffee maker on the counter. He spoons in some of the grounds he’d traded for earlier that week into the reusable filter, pours in water from the tap, and turns it on to brew. He grabs two ceramic mugs from the wire dish rack beside the sink and sets them down on the counter. “She out back?” he questions, yanking the refrigerator door open—he tries to remember the little things, like how you enjoyed your coffee with a bit of milk as well as a dash of cinnamon, if you had the rations, or something to trade for the precious spice. He always made sure that you did.

“Nope.” Ellie shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth and adds thickly, “She went to get some eggs.”

Joel shoots her a look of disgust over his shoulder. “Jesus, Ellie! How many times do I gotta tell you? Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s bad manners,” he scolds her, shaking his head. He turns his attention back to the refrigerator. As he reaches for the glass bottle of milk, he pauses and his eyebrows pull together in confusion when he sees the wicker basket on the top shelf. “Wait a minute.” He feels her stiffen in her chair. “Why the hell would she go get eggs when we’ve got a full basket of ‘em right here in the fridge?”

She clears her throat. “Oh, uh, my bad. I got confused. Think she said she was gonna go get more honey? Uh, I used the last of it to make my breakfast this morning and she, uh—she wanted some for her toast. You know, ‘cause she really likes putting honey on her toast,” she rambles before piling more oatmeal into her mouth.

Closing the refrigerator door, he turns to her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as uneasiness settles deep in the pit of his stomach. “Ellie?”

There’s a momentary pause. “...yeah?”

This time, Joel doesn’t bother to chastise the teenager for talking with her mouth full. “Where is she?”

Ellie nervously swallows her food and holds up both of her hands. “Hey, I already fucking told you, man.”

“Look, I know you like the back of my own hand, kiddo. And I know damn good and well when you’re lying to me.” Joel crosses his arms over his chest. “Now tell me the truth. What do you know that I don’t?”

Groaning, Ellie sits back in her chair. “Ugh. She made me swear not to tell you! She’ll fucking strangle me if I do—”

“Yeah, well, not if I fuckin’ strangle you first myself,” he threatens her. “M’Serious, Ellie. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“Alright, alright! Jesus,” she huffs. “She’s with Tommy. He’s been taking her out of town to do target practice in the mornings, just the two of them. She usually gets back to the house before you get up,” she admits.

Joel’s arms fall back to his sides, his shoulders tense. “And how long has this been goin’ on?” he asks, rigidly. There’s a sudden tightness inside his chest, a feeling he hasn’t felt it in a while, but is still all too familiar to him.

After Tommy spread the word around town that more people were needed for patrol duties, you’d expressed an interest in the role, but Joel had been all too quick to shut you down, telling you he didn’t want you stepping foot outside the community’s gates.

“No,” he’d said. “Not happenin’. S’too dangerous.”

“But Joel—”

“I said,” he lowered his voice. “No.”

He hadn’t offered you an explanation as to why he was against it, refused to give you one good, solid reason as to why it was acceptable for him to risk his own life to protect Jackson, but it wasn’t acceptable for you to do the same.

Joel hadn’t known how to tell you the truth. How he needed you far, far more than you needed him, how the mere thought of losing you, the best fucking thing that could have possibly happened to him since the world ended, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.

A few weeks had passed since then, and thankfully, you never brought it up to him again. You had lost interest in patrol duty. Or so he’d thought.

“How long has this been going on?” he repeats after a minute.

“C’mon, man! Haven’t I already snitched enough?”

“Ellie,” Joel bites out her name. “Tell me. How long?”

She sighs in defeat. “Two weeks? Maybe three?” When she notices the muscle in his jaw tick, she grimaces. “You do realize why she didn’t fucking tell you, right?”

“Don’t,” he warns her, sharply.

“I’m just saying,” Ellie mutters, peering down into her bowl.

Without another word, Joel angrily storms past her and straight out the front door, snatching up his rifle on the way. He heads straight for the stables, trying to ignore the anxiety flaring inside of his chest.

Focus.

Now, breathe in. And breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe...

You exhale as you slowly squeeze the trigger.

Y’squeeze it like you love it, you had been told by your reluctant instructor.

The round fires off into the distance and you swiftly grab the bolt handle, bringing it up, back, forward, and then down again. You pull the trigger once more, then repeat and continue firing one shot after the other for a total of five rounds.

The rifle’s recoil nearly sends you flying backwards, but a strong hand on your back keeps you nice and steady. That same hand then moves to your shoulder and gives you three firm taps.

“Alright, alright! Christ,” Tommy laughs. He withdraws his arm from around you and shakes his head. “Fuckin’ calm down, Annie Oakley.”

Picking up his binoculars, he rises to his feet and looks through the lens at the makeshift targets that he’d set up for you, three empty soup cans lined up in a row on top of a wooden fence about twenty-five yards away—your longest shooting distance to date.

“Well?” You don’t even bother masking your impatience as you lower the rifle, carefully propping the weapon up against the tree stump you’re perched behind. Rubbing your sore shoulder, you hope the kickback won’t leave a bruise. You wouldn’t know how to explain that to Joel. “How did I do?”

His response comes in the form of a long, low whistle.

There is no telling if that had been good whistle, or if it had been a bad one. You groan. Now was not the time for him to dick around. “Please tell me I got at least one of them?”

“You got ‘em all, actually.” Tommy replies, lowering the binoculars and peering down at you. There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Good job, kid.”

Kid? Not exactly a nickname one wants to be called by the brother of the much, much older man that they are romantically involved with. It’d taken Tommy months to accept your relationship with Joel, especially when you moved your things out of your unit and into his over the summer. Part of you wonders if him referring to you as a kid is simply his own subtle way of telling you—no, of reminding you, that he’s still not comfortable with it.

And perhaps he never would be.

After all, you had still been a teenager when you first arrived to Jackson a few years ago, stumbling upon the town just a few months shy of the twentieth birthday you weren’t sure you would survive long enough to see.

You were indeed a kid when you’d met Tommy Miller.

Were.

Scowling up at him, you snap, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not nineteen anymore, Tommy.”

Having read your mind, he gives you a small smile and acknowledges, “Yeah, you’re right. You definitely ain’t a kid anymore.” He offers you his hand and hoists you up to your feet. Before dropping your hand, he gives it an apologetic squeeze.

You relax a little and smile back at him. “Did I really get all three?”

Tommy nods. “You sure did. You’re a damn good shot. I gotta be honest with you—I didn’t expect you to be this fuckin’ good,” he admits sheepishly.

Chuckling, you scoff, “Thanks. I think.”

“It’s a compliment, sugar.” He winks and flashes you a lopsided grin. “In fact, I’d say my work here is done.”

“Great! So when are you putting me on the roster?”

His grin instantly vanishes. “Uh, listen. About that....”

He trails off, and your heart sinks a little.

Tommy wouldn’t back out of this now—would he?

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare go back on your word, Miller,” you say, lightly poking him in the chest. “We had a deal. You said if I did well enough, you’d think about it.”

He nods in agreement. “Exactly. Said I’d think about it. And I think that puttin’ you on the roster for patrol ain’t a good idea.”

Your mouth falls open. If he never had any intention of holding up his end of the bargain, then what had been the point of teaching you how to shoot?

You didn’t understand.

“You just said it yourself, I’m a great shot! I’m a good on horseback, too. I’m stealthy. I’m diligent. What more do you fucking need from me, Tommy?”

Tommy’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “Joel would fuckin’ murder me with his bare hands if I even thought about puttin’ you on patrol duty. Hell, he’d murder me just knowin’ we’re out here and I’m teachin’ you how to shoot. It’s a damn fuckin’ miracle he still hasn’t caught onto this, y’know.”

Shocked, your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. “This is about Joel? Are you serious?”

“‘Course it is.” He pauses. “Listen, now I know the three of us had our—differences—when he first told me ‘bout you two. Still takin’ me a bit of gettin’ used to, but I can see he’s real serious about you. I know my brother, and I know he won’t risk losin’ what’s most important to him. Ain’t no way in hell. He doesn’t want you out here and you know that as well as I do.” Tommy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he shuffles his weight from one cowboy boot to the other. “Unless he’s alright with it, I ain’t gonna put you on the roster.”

For a moment, you’re at a complete loss for words.

Upon seeing the crestfallen expression on your face, he makes a suggestion. “You can try talkin’ to him ‘bout it again if it means that much to you. Ask him—”

“Ask?” You want to laugh. You almost do. “I’m an adult, Tommy. I don’t need his permission to do this. Or to do anything for that matter. Joel doesn’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Tommy smiles wryly. “Well then, if that’s the case, why are we sneakin’ around and doin’ this behind his back?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat.

Because the ramifications could be disastrous.

Joel had made his stance on the matter abundantly clear, and yet here you were, deliberately disobeying him.

“Stumped you real good, didn’t I?”

Before you can even start to think about how you can possibly respond to that, you hear the sound of hooves in the dirt behind you, followed by whinny of a horse.

Tommy’s face pales as he glances over your shoulder.

“Shit.”

There’s no need for you to ask. His grimace says it all.

Somehow, you will yourself to turn around just as Joel’s steed comes to a halt beside the mare you and Tommy had ridden out on together. He jumps out of the saddle, grunting at the forceful impact on his knees when his feet hit the ground. His rifle hangs from a worn, brown leather strap slung across his back.

He approaches the two of you looking absolutely livid, and your throat goes dry.

“The hell is goin’ on here?” He breezes right past you, roughly shoving his brother with both hands. “Why the fuck would you bring her out here, Tommy? What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Joel, c’mon. Take it easy—”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to take it easy!”

“Joel!” You reach for his arm. “Wait, it’s not his fault!”

Joel shoves him again, then takes him by the collar of his shirt and pins him against the ponderosa pine tree behind him. “You’ve been bringin’ her outside the gates behind my fuckin’ back for weeks, asshole?”

The panic begins to set in—he’s taking his anger out on the wrong person, and deep down, he knows this too.

“Joel! Stop! Let him go!” Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, you try pulling him off of the younger man. “Stop it! It’s not his fault! I asked Tommy to bring me out here!”

He whirls around, his nostrils flared, jaw clenched.

You’ve seen this side of him a handful of times before.

But his anger has never been directed at you.

“What?”

Immediately, you let go of him and take a step back. “I asked Tommy to bring me out here and teach me how to shoot so that I can start working patrol,” you explain, hoping, praying, he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. “This was all my idea, okay? If you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Not at him.”

“So you did this after I fuckin’ told you I didn’t want you out here?” Joel seethes. His neck becomes flushed, his tan skin now a deep shade of red.

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “I had to find out from Ellie? You tried to get her to fuckin’ lie to me? After all the work it took for me and her to—” Stopping mid sentence, he places his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Joel. Please.” Behind the anger in his dark brown eyes, you detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concern—fear?

Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. “Well I’m, uh—I’m gonna head back to town,” he says, touching a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ll let the two of you work things out in private.” As he passes Joel, he lightly claps him on the shoulder. “Girl’s a sharp shooter, big brother. I’d reckon she’s almost better than you.”

His effort to lighten the mood fails. Miserably.

Offering you a subtle nod of encouragement, Tommy hops into the saddle of his mare and takes off towards the commune.

Silence falls over the both of you. It feels suffocating.

Unfamiliar.

Finally, you speak. “Joel, please just hear me out—”

“What the hell were you thinkin’? Or were you just not thinkin’ at all?”

“I was thinking I want to pull my weight in Jackson.”

“You already have a fuckin’ job,” Joel reminds you.

“Making sandwiches and serving whiskey at The Tipsy Bison?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am capable of more than that, Joel. So much more. Don’t you believe I’m capable of doing more?”

“I don’t want you out here,” he grits through his teeth. “Capable or not, I don’t want you outside Jackson’s walls. I don’t want you on patrol and that’s fuckin’ final. You understand me?” Now it’s him who falters, and you wonder if you’re imagining things, or if that’s really a tear you see sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the salt and pepper scruff of his beard.

“That’s not your decision to make, Joel. It’s mine.”

“M’responsible for you. It’s my job to look after you—to protect you.”

Something about the way he is looking at you, it feels like a punch to the gut, and it’s at that precise moment when you begin to realize that he’s not angry. He’s afraid.

“Joel, I know that all you want to do is protect me,” you sigh, letting your arms fall down to your sides. “I know you do. But you’re doing me no favors by trying to keep me sheltered. By treating me like I’m defenseless. Don’t forget, I’m a survivor too.”

“You already know how fuckin’ dangerous it is out here. Clickers, raiders—”

“I can handle it,” you insist, stubbornly.

“You’d be puttin’ yourself right in harm’s way!”

You shoot back, “You mean, the way you and so many other people put yourselves in harm’s way every single day for the sake of keeping Jackson safe?”

A frustrated growl rumbles through his chest. “Christ, why are you bein’ so fuckin’ foolish? You’re just askin’ to get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself!” You realize your hands are shaking and curl them into tight fists at your sides in an effort to hide it. “Just accept it, Joel! Accept that I can take care of myself, alright?”

That is all it takes to tip Joel over the edge he’s been teetering on. “Then what do you fuckin’ need me for?” he shouts, his voice thundering over the quiet plains of Wyoming. “If you can take care of yourself, what’s the point in us bein’ together? Why are you with me?”

“Because I love you!”

As soon as the confession comes tumbling out of your mouth, you take a step back, your wide eyes meeting his own. Until now, neither of you have ever called this what it is, been bold enough to say it’s love.

Loving after so much grief, so much loss, is daunting. It’s something you thought you would never be capable of doing again, not in this lifetime. Not in this world. It’s happened, though.

You love Joel Miller.

And he loves you.

He’s never told you he does, but he’s shown you.

From the way remembers how you take your coffee in the mornings, to the way he laces his fingers with your own, holding your hand when he’s buried inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your collarbone every single night.

“You—you what?” Joel’s whisper is hardly audible.

You inch your way closer to him, your voice soft. “I love you,” you declare once more. “I’m not with you because of what you can do for me. I’m not with you because you can take care of me.” Closer. “I’m with you because I love you—because I’m in love with you, Joel.” Closer, until your chest brushes against his, and he can smell the subtle scent of your homemade, rosewater soap. “The only thing I need, and have ever needed from you, is your love in return.”

His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he lifts his hands and gently takes your face, cradling it in between his large palms, gently. His eyes search yours, immediately finding the sincerity behind your words. Leaning down, he brushes the tip of nose against your own as one of his hands travels down, his long fingers curling around the nape of your neck. His thumb lightly strokes the column of your throat.

“I love you,” Joel says hoarsely. Three words he hadn’t said to anyone in over two decades—it feels foreign to him, they ring strange in his own ears. He tries it again, clearer this time, and with a little more confidence. After all, he’s only saying what he has known from the very start. “I love you.” His other hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer to him. “M’gonna love you for the rest of my life, baby.”

He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly, at first, but he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, silently asking for more.

Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the ponderosa, kissing you deeply, greedily, like he’s a man starved.

You whimper into him, your hands sliding up his broad chest and past his shoulders until they’re tangled in his soft, graying curls. He breathes you in, like you are the oxygen he needs to stay alive.

It isn’t until you both hear the sound of rustling behind a nearby shrub that you’re forced to pull apart. “Don’t move,” Joel instructs in a hushed voice. He keeps you pinned against the tree, his hand abandoning your hip. He glances around, slowly reaching behind his back for his rifle. His tense shoulders relax when the both of you see a pair of rabbits dart out from one dried bush and straight into another. Exhaling an amused huff, Joel shifts his attention back to you and rests his forehead against yours.

Smiling, you reach up and softly graze his beard with your fingertips. “Guess it’s about time we called this what it is, huh?”

“Guess you’re right, darlin’.” He lifts his chin, brushing a kiss onto your forehead. “M’sorry for raisin’ my voice to you. For talkin’ to you the way I did. S’just, the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to you out here scares shit out of me.” Taking a step back, he pulls the strap of his rifle from around his shoulder. He chews the inside of his cheek and silently stares at the gun in his hands. After a minute, he meets your curious gaze. “Do you really wanna do this, sweet girl?”

You nod. “Yeah. I really do.”

Joel sighs. “Can I put a condition it?”

“Depends on what that condition is.”

“I’m your patrol partner. Every shift. Every rotation.”

You roll your eyes. “Joel.”

“At least for the first few weeks,” he bargains. “Last thing I need is for you to be paired up with some fuckin’ idiot who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doin’.”

Knowing that would be the only way he’d have some peace of mind, you decide to agree. “Fine. We’re patrol partners.”

“Alright then.” Joel nods and hands you the rifle. He flashes you a small grin. “Show me what you got, baby.”

divider credit to @/saradika 💛

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

#joel miller x reader #fic: call it what it is #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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markheathbarofficial · 1 year

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sooo were you born there or did you move there with sarah after you left

we actually left when Cesar and his mom moved, little over a year ago

#i bolted Sarah wanted to come with #i ended up winning custody of her lol

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nolouisprotested · 2 years

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i was just saying how one of our horses would retire soon cause she’s the oldest horsemanship mare and always injured and just now my boss texted me saying she’s on stall rest with an injury… i was cursed with the gift of prophecy i fear

#her names annie and I love her so much 😔 she has a lightning bolt on her head #if she wasn’t over a thousand pounds I’d pick her up and put her in my pocket and take her home with me #sarah

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itneverendshere · 4 months

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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18)

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛" + "def some little smut during the enemies part and a long story"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; kidnapping; smut!; violence!; rafe is a red flag; guns and blood; p in v;

word count: 8k

part ii; part iii; part iv; part v; part vi; part vii (finale)

The sun dipped low, painting the Outer Banks marshes in shades of fiery orange. Tensions between Kooks and Pogues had hit a fever pitch, and in the middle of it all? Rafe Cameron, the last person you'd want to encounter. Ever.

Every run-in with him left a bitter taste in your mouth. It was like he had a knack for getting under your skin. Arrogant, volatile, downright psychotic — Rafe was a walking disaster. Each interaction with him sucked the life out of you. You were convinced that nothing good could ever come from being around him. And yet, there you were, another Maybank, caught in the chaos of the island's most influential family feud.

You knew the risks, but loyalty drove you forward. And now? Well, now you were in deep shit.

Your plan had been reckless, driven by the desperate need to save Sarah from her deranged family and retrieve Pope's stolen cross. Everything had gone smoothly until chaos erupted, and you found yourself abruptly yanked away from the corridor by a strong grip on your arm, before you could even call out for your brother and Kie.

Another hand clamped over your mouth, stifling any attempts to scream. In a blur, you were dragged into a dimly lit cabin, the men's hold on you unyielding. Struggling was futile and stupid against his iron grip. He tossed you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

The gravity of your situation hit hard immediately – you were alone, at the mercy of the Cameron's. Ward Cameron, the man who'd silenced anyone who dared oppose him, even going as far as faking his own death, kidnapping his own daughter, and manipulating his son into committing murder. Because in his sick twisted world, family trumped everything. Even murder.

Great.

Your mind raced as you took in your surroundings. The cabin was small and sparsely furnished: a bunk, a tiny porthole high on the wall, and a single chair bolted to the floor. There was a faint hum of the ship's engines, a reminder that you were far from land and any chance of immediate rescue. You quickly checked your options but there weren't many. The door was solid, and you didn't have anything strong enough to force it open. Fuck, fuck fuck.

You took a deep breath, trying not to lose your shit. Panic wouldn't help; you needed a plan. But then, like a nightmare come to life, the devil himself stepped into the room, his eyes piercing as they landed on you. The man who had captured you stood behind him, a smug grin on his face.

Rafe was visibly surprised to see you, but he quickly concealed it behind a calculating expression. His forehead glistened with sweat, his hair damp and sticking to his temples. His shirt clung to his back, soaked through from the scorching heat, and beads of perspiration trickled down his face. He wiped his brow with a weary hand and his gun gleamed ominously in the dim light.

"Well shit,” Rafe's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Look what we have here. Didn't expect to see ya again so soon pretty Maybank.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your mind was racing with questions. Where were your friends? Were they safe? Was your brother even alive? Before you could ask, Rafe continued, his tone mocking.

"Your brother really did a number on you, huh? Left you behind without a second thought. Typical Maybank shit. Always knew you were unreliable."

Son of a bitch.

You clenched your fists, fighting to keep your composure. "You're lying," you countered, "He wouldn't leave me."

Not unless he was forced to.

Rafe chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Believe what you want. They left. Now, you're my problem. Lucky me."

“You’re lying.”

His eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint as he walked towards you.

You took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The cold, metal wall pressed against your back, mirroring the chill that settled in your bones. It felt like you were being hunted.

"Now, what am I going to do with you?" he mused, tilting his head as if genuinely contemplating your fate. The gun in his hand swung lazily at his side, but you knew better than to think it wasn't ready to be used at any given moment.

You swallowed hard, your mind frantically searching for a way out of this hellhole. He was unpredictable and volatile; years of snorting cocaine and family trauma did that to some people.

But maybe, just maybe, you could reason with him. You were always a litte too good for your own good.

“Rafe, listen. You don't have to do this. Let me go and we can both walk away from this. No one has to get hurt."

Again.

His laugh was bitter, like you were trying to humor him,"You think I'm going to let you go just because you asked nicely?" He stepped closer, his breath hot against your face. "Nah. You're going to stay right here until I decide what to do with you.“

You tried to keep your breathing steady, but all you felt was fear.

The odds were against you, as they had always been your entire life.

"What do you want, Rafe? The cross? We can make a deal."

His eyes narrowed, the amusement fading.

"You think this is about money? About that fucking cross? This is about power. Control. And right now...huh, shit, I control you." He leaned in, his voice a deadly whisper. "The cross is mine now. How do you feel about the Bahamas?”

Your top lip curled in disgust, “I’d rather drown.”

His smile twisted into something even darker. “I think you’re worth more alive, at least for now.”

You refused to show him any more fear. “To you? Or Ward? Do you only get this cocky when daddy’s not around to rein you in?”

Rafe’s expression hardened, and for a moment, you thought you’d pushed him too far. He leaned in close, his eyes cold and unforgiving.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Maybank. You don’t know anything about my family.”

You laughed bitterly, unable to stop yourself. “Yeah, no. You're right. Just that you're dad’s little lapdog, doing his dirty work while he pretends to be some upstanding citizen. And where’s your mom in all this? Oh! She left.”

The punch came so fast, you didn’t see it coming.

Pain exploded across your jaw, and you tasted blood. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t fucking talk about her, dirty pogue. Ever.”

Anger took over you like wildfire, hotter than the pain. Your jaw throbbed, but the rage was stronger. You wanted to hit him back, to wipe that smug look off his face, to make him feel the hurt he had inflicted on you. Your fists clenched at your sides, every muscle in your body burning with desire for retribution. The fury in your eyes matched the darkness in his.

You spat blood at his face, glaring up at him defiantly. “You’re just a puppet. Your sister hates you, your dad uses you, and deep down, you know it. You’ll never be more than his bitch.”

His grip tightened painfully, rough fingers digging into your flesh, lips twitching into a snarl, but you didn’t flinch. If you were going down, you’d go down fighting.

His eyes flickered with something you’d never seen in him, before he released you, stepping back. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? So tough.”

“Smarter than you,” you shot back. “At least I know who I am. What are you, Rafe?“

He stared at you, tongue pressed against his cheek, eyebrows furrowed. Then he laughed, a harsh, grating sound that sent chills down your spine. His hand reached out, and your breath stilled throat tightening as he fiddled with a lock of your hair. He’d let out another laugh, entirely dismissive of the way you’d felt.

“You’ve got guts, Maybank. It's gonna get you killed.“

You wiped the blood from your mouth, “I’ve survived worse than you.”

And you had.

If anything prepared you for violence, drugs, and pain, was living with Luke Maybank your entire life. And maybe, if you didn’t hate Rafe with every fiber of your being, after everything he’d done, you’d feel sorry for him. But you didn’t, and he sure as hell didn't feel sorry for you.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the low hum of the ship’s engines. Then Rafe turned on his heel, motioning to the man by the door. “Watch her. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Do I look like fucking Michael Phelps? Where the fuck would I go? We’re on a ship you crazy bastar—Hey! Rafe! Open the fucking door!”

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the small, dimly lit cabin. You listened to his footsteps fade away, feeling a sense of dread settle in your chest. What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? They could kill you, dispose your body in the ocean and no would care. No one would think you’d gone missing, because you were a Maybank and that’s what your kind of people did, apparently.

Your brother would probably assume you were dead, he’d try to get justice and fail in the end, because the rich always won.

The musty air of the cabin felt oppressive as you turned away from the small porthole, where the bright sun and endless expanse of blue ocean mocked you from beyond.

The days melded into one another, marked only by the delivery of meals and the sporadic presence of Rafe. You had hoped for some clarity, some hint of what your future looked like, but his visits offered nothing but insults or complete silence.

You paced the small room, your mind racing with the possibilities of what they had planned for you. The guard remained a silent sentinel, a constant reminder that escape was not an option. But then, the cabin door creaked open again, and you tensed as Ward Cameron stepped in, his presence commanding immediate attention.

He gave a nod to the guard, who stepped out, leaving you alone with the man who held your fate in his hands. A fucking lunatic with enough means to play for all the dramatics he enjoyed. Great.

"Get comfortable," Ward announced, "We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

"The Bahamas," he replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "A little slice of paradise, if you will."

"And what happens then?" you pressed, needing to know more.

Ward studied you for a moment, “Keep out of sight, stay quiet. Rafe and I have some business to attend to, and we can't afford any distractions."

"And if I refuse?" you challenged, though you knew the answer.

Ward's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. You knew he enjoyed watching people squirm around like worthless worms.

"Let's not be stupid, sweetheart. You're here because you know too much. Refusing isn't an option. Cooperation, however…”

A chill ran down your spine at his words. The answer was very clear, and you realized that your only chance was to play along, at least until you could figure out a way to escape this nightmare.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Eventually, you felt the ship slow, the engines quieting as you approached your destination. When the door opened again, Rafe was there, that stupid frown always attached to his face.

"Time to go," he said simply, motioning for you to follow, "Move."

You stepped out onto the deck, the warm, salty breeze hitting your face as you looked around. The sight of the lush, tropical landscape did little to ease your anxiety. You were led to a smaller boat, and soon you were speeding towards a secluded island, the main landmass of the Bahamas visible in the distance. You were a world away from the familiar streets and faces of The Cut. It was straight out of a postcard. Something you and JJ would fantasize about while high of your asses and writing bucklists.

God, JJ. You only hoped he made it. You’d never gone a day without each other before you were dragged into this mess last summer. It wasn’t fair. You only wanted enough money to get by, an easy fix to get everything sorted, finish college, ship your dad somewhere far away from you two. But Ward’s greedy ass had to ruin everything for you.

As the boat neared the shore, you couldn't ignore the feeling of impending doom. Were you going to die there? In between pristine beaches and swaying palm trees?

Rafe’s hand gripped your arm, his grasp tight as he led you onto the sandy beach. Ward followed close behind, as he surveyed the scene before him.

"This way," he said, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

You followed obediently, your mind racing with possibilities. Escape seemed unlikely, but you there was still a slim hope that you could find a way out of this mess. Eventually.

The path led deeper into the heart of the island, the dense foliage casting long shadows as the sun began to set. You could feel the weight of Ward and Rafe's gazes on you, watching their prey.

Finally, you reached a clearing, and your heart sank as you saw what awaited you. A small house. In the middle of nowhere. Oh god, you were a dead woman.

“This will be your home for the time being" Ward said it like he was offering you a vacation rental and not kidnapping you. A lunatic.

You wanted to protest, to demand answers, but you knew it was futile and there was little fight left in you from how tired you'd been feeling.

“Rafe will be keeping you company."

The way Rafe’s head snapped in his father’s direction told you more than what you needed to know. Once again, daddy dearest was calling the shots without taking his opinion into consideration.

Ward’s casual cruelty was suffocating, a reminder of the power he had over everyone. As he turned to leave, leaving no space of negotiations or pleadings, Rafe’s eyes bored into yours. No questions asked, only blind devotion to his father.

The door slammed shut, leaving you alone with Rafe once more. He looked at you, resentment playing across his face, like this was your fault and not theirs.

“I’m not going to make this easy for you," You hissed, “I’m not dying here. Not with you.”

Rafe chuckled, greasy bangs moving as he shook his head, “You really think you have a choice here?” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the confined space, “You think you’re special? Nah, Maybank. He’ll get rid of you eventually, don’t worry.”

“Exactly. He will, not you. You don’t have any control either and I think you hate being here as much as I do. That shit makes us both prisoners.”

He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard, “Stay out my fucking way or I’ll kill you myself.”

You were sure he wouldn't, only if Ward asked him to.

He’d fucked up enough before, when he accidentally shot Sarah and didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. You knew he wouldn’t do it again, not if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulder and his trust fund. Ward Cameron hated slips ups, hated even more the monster he raised, but he sure came in handy when he needed him.

"Empty threats," you shot back, squaring your shoulders. "I've dealt with bigger monsters than you, Rafe."

He only started at you, eyes bloodshot red, perhaps from the lack of sleep or maybe because he was high off his mind, you didn’t care to ask. But just as quickly, his usual sneer returned. "Enjoy your stay, Maybank.”

With that, he turned and left the room. Him and the stupid slamming of doors. You were alone again.

You had to get out. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were a Maybank—survival was in your blood. You took stock of your surroundings once more, this time with a sharper eye. The walls were thin, the windows barred, but there had to be some weakness, some way to exploit the situation.

You ran your fingers along the seams of the walls, looking for anything that might give. Your mind raced through every piece of advice JJ had ever given you about breaking and entering. You’d done a lot of that over the years, and while most people thought you pogues were simply criminals, they never cared enough to ask why you and your brother spent so much time in and out of the sheriff’s department.

So, what if two dirty, no-good kids were barely hanging on for dear life? No one gave a shit.

Weeks blurred into each other, each one marked by the same routine.

Rafe's visits, Ward's passive aggressive threats, and the endless search for an opportunity to escape. You watched Rafe carefully, noting his every move, his every interaction with Ward.

You noticed the way Ward belittled him, treating him more like a tool than a son. It was a toxic dynamic, one that made you wonder if Rafe was as much a victim as you were. You’d seen bits and pieces before, but Sarah had described Ward as some sort of saint up until recently.

Rafe on the other hand? Their dynamic was so different from what you were used to. You and JJ were like two peas in a pod, you’d die for him and you know he would do the same, no questions asked. If there was one good thing in your life, it was your brother.

You couldn't help but feel a little pity for Rafe, despite everything he'd done. He was a product of his environment, molded by a father who saw him as nothing more than a means to an end. It was easy to spot the cracks in his armor if you spent enough time in the same room, the secretive moments of doubt and vulnerability. The way his hands would shake every time Ward raised his voice, the way he would bite his nails to hide the embarrassment booming in his cheeks. How he never walked into his father’s space or any other room without announcing his presence.

It gave you whiplash.

You began to argue less with him, your animosity giving way to a grudging understanding. You hated feeling so…forgiving. This boy had done unspeakable things to you and your friends, to your family…and there you were. Feeling sorry for him like you didn’t know better.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the small house, Rafe brought you dinner. He placed the plate on the table, his movements tense, his expression unusually subdued. Strangely so, you’d memorized that expression. You didn’t even have to ask to understand what had gotten under his skin.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" you asked, your voice softer than usual. You didn’t understand why you did it. You regretted the words the moment they came out of your lips, but there was something inside itching you to ask.

His eyes snapped to yours, rage and something else—pain—flashing in them. "What the hell do you know about it?" he snapped, but there was less bite in his words. At this point he just sounded tired.

"I understand,” you replied, thinking of your own father. "I know what it's like to want to prove yourself, to be more than what they think you are."

Rafe's jaw clenched, his eyes dropping to the floor. For a moment, he looked lost, like a boy searching for something he could never find.

"You don't know shit," he muttered, but there was no conviction in his voice.

"I know enough," you said quietly. "You don't have to keep doing this. You don't have to be his puppet."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You think it's that simple?"

"Maybe not. But you can choose to be better than him. You can choose to stop this.”

Rafe looked at you, really looked at you, for the first time. It was borderline unnerving. The weight of his stare. The way your stomach flip-flops under his attention.

“Shut the fuck up and eat, Maybank."

But beneath it all, there was something else. Something you’d seen before, when you looked at yourself in the mirror after you took the biggest beating of your life and Luke finally got thrown into jail: hope.

He didn't say anything, just turned and walked out, leaving you alone.

Again.

The days continued to pass, but something changed. Rafe was less hostile, more contemplative. He didn't treat you as roughly, didn't hurl as many insults. It was a small change, but it was there. And you began to see a way out, not just for yourself, but for him too.

You knew what he did, knew what he was capable of, but no one deserved to rot in hell with someone like Ward. You needed to bide your time, to wait for the right moment. And when that moment came, you had to be ready to act.

Another day began with the same oppressive humid heat. The sun had just started to rise, casting golden hue over the island. You were in the small kitchen of the house, preparing a meager breakfast from the limited supplies you had that day. The routine had become almost mechanical, a way to keep your mind occupied and stave off the panic.

Rafe entered the kitchen, eyes barely open as he wiped the sleep away. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the sound of the liquid hitting the glass breaking the silence. Very healthy.

He stood with his back to you, staring out the window.

“What’s Luke like?”

You froze, your hands pausing mid-motion. It was an unexpected question, one that made you want to hurl on the spot even though you hadn’t had anything to eat yet.

“Why do you want to know?" you asked cautiously, wondering if it was some kind of trick question.

Rafe shrugged, still not turning to face you. "Just curious. You Maybanks are a tight bunch, right? So what's he like?"

Tight bunch…that was one way to put it.

You took a deep breath, trying to decide how much to reveal. "He’s a drunk, a thief. But he's still my dad."

He finally turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing. "So why do you stick around? Why not just leave him?"

You knew what he was trying to do, giving you a taste of your own medicine. You couldn’t blame him.

"Because he's family. And sometimes, family is all you have. Even when they’re terrible, even when they hurt you, sometimes you can’t just walk away."

"Family's supposed to be everything, right?" His voice carried a bitter edge, hinting at his unresolved inner conflicts.

"That's what they say," you replied quietly.

He took another sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving yours. "Must be tough, having a dad like that."

Tough? It was heartbreaking. Knowing that the one person who was supposed to love you, cherish you and protect you for life never gave a single fuck about his kids? Yeah, sure it’s “tough”.

"Guess we have that in common.”

Rafe looked away, his jaw tightening. "Yeah, we do." He set his glass down with a heavy thud, the sound resonating in the small kitchen.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, but then he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"I get it," he said quietly. "More than you know."

You watched him, the way his fingers ran along the rim of the glass. "Then why do you keep doing this? You don’t have to."

“It's not that simple," he snapped. "You think I have a choice? I killed someone. For him.”

It was the first time he had said those words out loud. And it made him sick to his stomach. That he’d been scared and high enough to do something so reckless, just so they wouldn’t take away his dad.

"We always have a choice," you countered, "Maybe not the best ones, but we can always choose to be better."

He shook his head, turning away. "You don't know anything," he muttered, but there was less conviction in his words than before.

"I know enough," you said softly, watching his retreating back. "And so do you."

He paused at the doorway, his hand gripping the frame tightly.

Without turning around, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "I'll see you later."

As he left, the kitchen felt colder, but you knew you had reached him, even if just a little. And that gave you hope.

After that, Rafe’s visits were less frequent, and when he did come by, there was an uneasy tension between you both. You couldn't tell if it was because of your last conversation or the sheer exhaustion of being trapped in this toxic cycle.

Still, every interaction seemed to chip away at the walls he'd built around himself, revealing little glimpses of the person he might have been, had his life taken a different path.

Tonight, the air is still, the only sound is the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. You have been biding your time, watching for the perfect moment to make your escape. The house is quiet, Ward is gone and you haven’t seen Rafe in two days. By now, you know how the guards outside fell asleep before 2am like clockwork.

You can it.

This is your chance, and you can’t afford to waste it.

You move silently, slipping out of the small bedroom and into the hallway. Every creak of the wooden floorboards seems to echo in the stillness, and you hold your breath, praying you won’t get caught.

Your heart races as you slowly turn the handle of the front door, wincing at the faint click that accompanies the action. Once outside, you glance around, ensuring the coast is clear, then make your way towards the small boat moored at the edge of the beach.

The plan is simple: get to the boat, start the engine, and head for the main island where you could find help.

You keep low, moving quickly but cautiously, like a cat. The boat is within reach when a noise behind you makes your blood run cold.

The crunch of gravel underfoot is unmistakable.

You turn sharply, and in the dim moonlight, the silhouette of one of the guards emerges from the shadows. The asshole who got you here in the first place. He’s closer than you had anticipated.

Your heart pounds, adrenaline moving through your veins as you break into a sprint, abandoning stealth for speed.

"Stop!" the guard shouts, his voice carrying across the trees. You don’t dare to look back, your eyes locked on the boat. A sharp crack split the night—a gunshot. You feel a searing pain in your arm, but you can’t stop. You push through the pain, your goal now just a few yards away.

Another gunshot rings out, but you are too focused to notice where it lands. You reach the boat, hands trembling as you fumble with the ropes. The pain in your arm intensifies, but you force yourself to keep moving, when suddenly, a heavy hand grabs your shoulder, spinning you around.

You struggle, kicking and thrashing, but he’s stronger. He pulls you to the ground, pinning you down as he radioes for backup. It feels all to familiar. You hate very second of it.

"Got her," he says into the radio, his terrible breath hot against your ear. You try to wriggle free, but his grip only tightens. Moments later, two more guards arrive, hauling you to your feet and dragging you back towards the house. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The sting in your arm is painful reminder of your failed attempt as they pull you inside, your brief taste of freedom slipping away. You were so fucking close.

Moments feel like hours as you sit in the chair, the pain in your arm throbbing with each heartbeat. They didn't even try to stop the bleeding.

The quiet murmurs of the guards outside are interrupted by the heavy, hurried footsteps of someone approaching. The door flies open, and there stands Rafe, disheveled and wild-eyed, a gun clutched tightly in his hand.

“What the fuck is going on?” he barks. His gaze scans the room, landing on you.

The sight of the blood staining your arm makes his expression shift from bewilderment to fury.

He storms towards you, his eyes blazing. “What happened?” he all but demands.

Before you could answer, he whirls around to face the guards who re-enters the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Rafe shouts, waving his gun erratically. “She’s bleeding! I try to sleep in peace and this is what I come back to?”

The guards exchange nervous glances, shifting uncomfortably under Rafe’s glare. “She was trying to escape, Mr. Cameron,” one of them stammers out. “We had to stop her.”

His expression twists with rage. “So you fucking shot her?” His voice drips with incredulity and disdain. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? My father wants her in once piece.”

The guard who caught you tries to explain, but Rafe cuts him off.

“Shut up. Just... shut up.” He turns back to you, his eyes softening slightly as he takes in the sight of your injured arm. Or maybe the pain is making you delirious.

“We need to get that cleaned up,” he mutters, more to himself than to anyone else. Without another word, he holsters his gun and gently takes your uninjured arm, pulling you to your feet. The guards look on, unsure of what to do or say.

Rafe shoots them a deadly look. “Get out,” he snaps. “Before I shoot you bitches myself.”

Once Ward’s men leave, Rafe's demeanor changes. His concern, which had briefly softened his striking features, making younguer, hardens back into anger. He runs a hand through his long hair, pacing the small room before finally stopping in front of you.

He looks pissed.

He sneers at you, his voice dripping with exasperation, "I thought you had some brains in that pretty little head of yours," he spats out, practically screaming in your face, "What were you even thinking? Do you realize how close you came to getting yourself killed?"

You try to speak, to defend yourself, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His words come fast, "You could've died out there! A bullet barely missed you—do you even understand how lucky you are?"

The monologue doesn't stop there.

His fists clench at his sides, "I just don't get it. Do you think you're invincible? Because you're not. You're just..." He stops himself, taking a deep breath as if trying to control his temper while he paces around th room, unable to stay put, "You're just reckless," he continues, his voice quieter but still seething, "You didn’t think about the consequences, about what it would do to..."

What?

"Don't act like you give a shit about me," you call after him, your voice trembling. You don't know if it's the pain or the weird pull in your stomach making you feel all weird and fuzzy inside.

He stops in his tracks, his back stiffening for a moment before slowly turning to face you,"I don't," he retorts, "But my ass is on the line too. You think Ward won't come down on me if something happens to you?"

You take a step towards him, despite the throbbing pain in your arm, not buying his bullshit speech.

"So this is all about you, then? Your precious ass and how it looks to Ward? Typical Cameron bullshit, only caring about themselves."

Rafe's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching. "You don't know what you're talking about," his voice is dangerously low. "You think this is easy for me? Keeping you safe, dealing with all this? It's not just about me. It's about keeping everything under control."

You scoff through your nose.

“Here we go again. Control? You think dragging me back here, shooting at me, is control? It's chaos, Rafe. You're just as trapped as I am, and you can't stand it."

His face twists showcasing his wrath, and he takes a step towards you, closing the distance.

"Shut up!” he growls. "You don’t understand the pressure I'm under. The expectations, the demands. I didn’t ask for any of this."

"And neither did I," you shoot back, a strict finger aimed at his face in warning, “So shut the fuck up.”

He takes another step, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and ragged.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. You think this is just about me? It's about keeping everything from falling apart. It's about—"

Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer, your faces almost touching.

“I don’t care about your excuses, Rafe. I don’t care about your pressures or your fucking control. All I know is I’m not staying here.”

The look he gives you was filled with enough ire to have a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, the hollow beneath his dark brows deepening as his pretty features contorted. His breath comes in short, sharp bursts. His hands come up, gripping your waist, not gently but not roughly either, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

"You're impossible," he hisses, like the snake he is.

"And you’re a coward.”

The next moment happens without much thinking. Without any thinking, really.

Rafe’s grip tightens, fingers didding into your skin and before you can process what is happening, his lips crash into yours with a ferocity that you never saw coming. His mouth is demanding, almost punishing, and you, like an idiot, kiss him back, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer even as you want to push him away.

The kiss is all rough and desperate, there's only room for anger and frustration, a collision of two souls too damaged to recognize the depths of their own pain. You should know better.

And yet, beneath the layers of animosity and resentment, there is a stupid spark—as if you are both too messed up to understand how much you need each other. Each fingertip of his leaves an imprint wherever he touches, a silent declaration of the strength he’s restraining. And some sick twisted part of you finds that attractive.

It’s like he’s fighting to contain this fury within him, to keep it from overwhelming you both. But you want it.

If someone told you you’d be kissing Rafe fucking Cameron of all people just a month ago, you’d think they were crazy. And yet…

All you want are his hands on your body, his warm skin against your own.

Oh his hands.

They roam slowly over your lower back, over your waist again. You breathe out a sigh of relief, taking the collar of his shirt in both your hands as you pull him closer, relishing in his warmth. He smells like whiskey and cigarettes. And while you grew up hating that particular combination, it worked on him.

He pulls away slowly, your lips the last to part, and blinks down at you. You watch him lick his bottom lip, swollen, wet with both of your spits, taking in the sight of you.

“’You’re bleeding—“

“Shut the fuck up.”

His blue eyes flare with renewed anger, turning almost black—something darker, more primal. Your words are like a match to gasoline. He doesn’t answer verbally; instead, he takes a half step back before swooping you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly.

With a swift motion, Rafe carries you to the dining table, and you barely have time to register the cool wood against your back before he’s on you again, his body pressing down on yours with a desperation that matches your own. There’s no tenderness there, only raw need.

He pries your lips apart again, his tongue sweeping in as he kisses you deeply, his mouth moving invasively over yours. His fingers grip your jaw with a vice-like hold. A strange sensation flutters beneath your skin, and you wrap your legs around his hips, closing the distance between your bodies as he presses flush against your center.

His hands move with such intent, slipping under your shirt, his fingers tracing every curve with a delicious blend of roughness and urgency. Your hands tangle in his hair, urging him closer as your kiss deepens. Everything around you fades into background noise as the room spins, his body so close making you breathless, his taste lingering on your lips.

You tug at his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons because you just can’t wait. He lets out a deep, sexy growl that makes a shiver run down your spine. His hands are all over you, touching your skin and leaving fiery trails wherever they go. It feels like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, wanting to claim you in a way he hadn't before.

"You're impossible," he mutters against your lips, the words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing. He leans down closer to your collarbone, to catch the scent on your skin, and he can’t tell if you are amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks round.

"And you’re an asshole,” your voice comes out breathless.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly "Drive me fucking crazy.”

"Good," you reply, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him down again. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding back on you, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

But you don’t want control. You want to lose yourself in this moment, to forget everything you've been through and just feel. Live a little and forget about your problems.

Rafe seems to sense it, his hands becoming more insistent, his touch more possessive. He lifts you slightly, positioning you better on the table, his body slotting perfectly between your legs. The friction is exquisite, a delicious tease that leaves you wanting even more.

"Rafe," you breathe, and he almost falls to his knees at the soft whimper that leaves your lips, unable to stop the jerk of his hips forward.

He responds instantly, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as he kisses you with a fervor that leaves you dizzy. The table creakes under your combined weight, but neither of you care. Your hand grab his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin exposed.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, your eyes locking with his. There’s a wildness there, and for the first time in your life, you like it.

You reach up, tracing his jaw with your fingers, feeling the grown out stubble beneath your touch as his mouth, hot and demanding, leaves a trail of fire in its wake on your neck. A noise of pleasure slips from your mouth as he palms at your breast, thumb grazing across your nipple as his teeth graze your collarbone, kissing down, littering your skin bite marks.

"I hate you," you pants, pouring as much venom into your words as possible. Your thighs tighten around his hips, feeling every inch of him against you.

“Your body doesn’t,” He replies coldly, each syllable slowly drawn from his throat.

“Fucking asshole.”

“Fucking brat.”

You open your mouth to hiss something at him, to fight back, show him that you are the one in charge, but the intention dies the moment Rafe cups you through your shorts.

A pathetic excuse of shorts due to the heat.

Heat blooms in your stomach, melting into a torrent want that floods your skin and leaves you breathless. His determined blue eyes pierce into yours, watching as he presses the heel of his palm against the apex of your thighs, his middle finger tracing your pussy and applying light pressure to the sensitive dip between your legs.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty?” He asks, lips brushing over your mouth, loose bangs brushing against your brow “Thought you had more fire in you.”

He moves your shorts and underwear out of the way and your lips part on a sharp inhale as you feel him touch you for the first time. You can't think properly while he's doing this. Your brain feels to mushy to form a proper sentence.

“Yeah, thought so.”

All that matters is the man in front of you, his relentless grip on your senses, his control over your body.

"God, I hate you," you whisper again, the words almost a prayer, a futile attempt to cling to the anger that has fueled you for so long.

But even as you say it, you know it’s was a lie. Partly.

You hate how much you need him right now, how much you crave his touch, his dominance. Perhaps you’ve been locked away from society for too long. That’s the only plausible reason for you to let Rafe Cameron touch you.

Rafe smirks, a dark, satisfied gleam in his eyes.

"No, you don’t.”

You do. At least you used to, everything is confusing now.

He teases you, his touch light and teasing, drawing out your frustration, your need. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a seductive growl that makes your heart race.

You bite back a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. But the need is so overwhelming, you nearly give in.

“Fuck you," you spit out, your defiance crumbling under the weight of your desire.

He chuckles darkly, his fingers finally slipping inside you, curling and stroking in a way that makes your hips buck against his hand. Oh, he was going to ruin you.

"That's right," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Let me hear you."

A broken moan escapes your lips, and you arch into his touch, your body writhing with need. His fingers move expertly, finding all the right spots, driving you near the edge with a skill that makes you breathless. Every touch, every stroke is designed to push you closer to the brink, to break you down until you are nothing but a trembling, pleading mess. You hate that he's so good.

"Rafe, please," you finally gasp, the words ripped from your throat by the overwhelming pleasure. "P-Please, I need you."

You'd be embarrassed later.

His smirk widens, and he pulls his fingers away, making you whimper in frustration. He doesn’t make you wait long, though. With swift, practiced movements, he frees himself from his pants, the sight of him hard and ready making your mouth water.

Without a word, he positions himself between your legs, the head of his pretty cock teasing your entrance.

"You ready for me?"

You nod, your eyes locking with his, "Please.”

He doesn’t need any further encouragement. With a single, powerful thrust, he buries himself inside you. The sensation overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that makes you cry out. Your back arches involuntarily, your lips parting as he enters you, filling you completely in a way you have never imagined.

He rolls his hips firmly against yours, and your head tips back as his cock rubs perfectly against you. You never felt so full. He doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath, giving you another firm roll of his hips, testing you out, figuring out his rhythm.

His movements are hard and relentless, pounding into you, knocking the breath from your lungs with each forceful thrust, barely giving you time to adjust. Not that you want slow.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his muscular back, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his. The table creaks and groans beneath you, but you don’t care.

All that matters is the man above you, his relentless drive, his unwavering hips. His hands grips your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. You can feel him losing control, his need matching your own.

Your eyes squeeze shut, blocking him out so you can pretend you aren’t stupid enough to let the man that ruined your life fuck the living hell out of you.

"Eyes on me,” he growls, his voice all rough and commanding. "Let me see you.”

Even though you really want to shut him out, you just can’t fight the crazy pull he has over you. His voice is like a force of nature. You open your eyes against your better judgment.

Seeing him above you, his face twisting with raw need and determination sends chills down your spine. His eyes are locked onto yours, filled with this unyielding intensity you never seen before and that leaves you breathless. No one had ever looked at you like that during sex.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. It makes you want to run for the hills, "Fucki—Oh, fuck. Y-You're sucking me in so nicely, huh?"

With each thrust, he drives you closer to your orgasm, your body responding to him in ways you can’t hold back. The pleasure is overwhelming, it leaves you gasping, moaning, begging for more. You don't even know what you're doing anymore. His name slips from your lips in a broken, desperate plea, and he answers with a renewed vigor, his movements becoming more frenzied.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice rough and strained. "You're so tight... feels so fucking good."

You can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. Your entire world has narrowed to this moment, to the feel of him inside you, to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

"Rafe," you whimper, the sound barely more than a breath. "I'm—I can't..."

He understands.

His pace quickens even more, his thrusts becoming almost brutal in their intensity. "Come for me," he commands his voice a whisper against your earlobe that sends shivers down your spine. "Let go."

His words push you over the edge, and you come with a scream, your body convulsing around him. The intensity of your release is like nothing you ever felt before, a white-hot explosion of pleasure that makes you lose it. So this was what great sex felt like?

Rafe follows you over the edge, his own release crashing through him with a force that leaves him shaking on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he rides out his orgasm, groaning as his movements slow down, until he finally stills, still buried deep inside you.

For a moment, everything is still, the only sound the ragged breaths but then he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, there is something almost tender about him.

“Y-You—“ He sighs, pausing, “Don’t pull that shit again. I’ll get you out, okay?

“Rafe...“

Before you can process his words, before you can question or argue, his lips are on yours again. Differently this time. Gentle.

Devastating almost.

“You’re still bleeding Maybank.”

Right. He'd fucked you good enough to forget about the pain. The moment of vulnerability between you evaporates, leaving you with the realization of your situation.

You just fucked Rafe Cameron. On a table. After being shot.

You push at his chest, forcing him to back off slightly, and hiss through clenched teeth, “Then do something about it."

He just stands there, staring at you as if he has never seen you before. As if he’s truly seeing you for the first time despite having known you since you were seven, despite all the moments marked by violence and terror. And you hate every second of it because your heart is practically leaping out of your chest.

No one has ever looked at you like that before.

And then he simply shakes his head, coming closer again, resting his forehead against yours, hands back on your thighs, fingers pressing as if he needs to ensure that you are real, that everything’s real.

“We’re getting out.”

You want to believe in him more than anything. In that moment, it’s the only thing that matters. Even if it sounds stupid. You need it, at least for now.

“Yeah?"

“Yeah, pretty Maybank. You and me."

“Okay.”

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x maybank!reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe x female!mc #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe smut #rafe fic #request

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maybank-archives · 7 months

Text

caught - jj maybank

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. sex. language. public sex. oral sex

word count: 1.4k

author’s notes: hi!! look who remembered the password to this blog!!! it's been a chaotic but gooooood couple of months, kinda fell out of my obx phase but I'm back and I miss writing sm!!! so to all my horny babes here's a unpublished piece (that was unfinished since october) hope yall enjoy!

masterlist | join the taglist |

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

every time you and JJ were caught.

occupied —

my back is pressed against the wall, JJ holds me tightly, his lips are pecking and biting the side of my neck as he buries himself inside of me. JJ’s hands cover my mouth as his thrust becomes faster.

I didn't even get the chance to get in the shower, my shorts were stuck on my knees, same thing with JJ. I suck him for 5 seconds before he pulls me on my feet and fuck me against the wall.

“y/n did you lock yourself?” Sarah’s voice rasped on the voice

I press my lips together concentrating on giving her an answer, but as JJ keeps pounding into me, I’m pretty sure she can hear my muffled cry.

“I’m gonna come princess, shit,” JJ whispers in my ear

“I…oh gosh, I'm good,” I squeeze out

JJ presses his body closer as he gives me his last thrusts, I look at him and see him control himself not to curse as he fills me with his cum.

“Are you sure?” Sarah insists

“YES,” that was for jj, who cupped my pussy and drew his fingers on my clit.

“for fucks sake, is JJ there with you?” I hear John B. shout at the door

He gives a little chuckle before giving the door a few thumps “Can no one get laid in this house?”

“y’all are disgusting, there's a bedroom, you know?”

“oh my god”

you hear the rest of them say outside, but my mind is far away from this reality and it's focused on JJ giving me an orgasm.

hammock —

we're both spread out in the hammock. it started with a massage, I swear.

It's a massage… on JJ’s dick.

bringing the blanket outside was an unintentional good idea. I threw on top of our lower bodies as my hand accidentally started stroking JJ's cock.

his body joint under my touch, I gave him the perfect amount of pressure, tugging his wet foreskin and sweeping up the beads of precum at the tip.

JJ gasps as I bring my hands to my mouth, giving it a nice lick and stroking him down again. but faster.

I could feel him getting closer. his eyes shut tight, his arms around me felt tense, and then…pope exited the chateau facing us, laying static on our back. too late, he realized JJ’s expression and the motion of my hands.

“Ew guys, c’mon, we all used this,” he says turning his back to us

I buried my face in JJ's neck laughing.

volume –

shoving her bikini bottom to the side, I grip her hips as y/n settles on top of me, slowly sinking. I could die watching her bounce on my cock.

I palm her tits as she rocks back and forth, using me to hit the spot that makes her whine.

speaking of whining, we're lucky that there's no one home, cause we're definitely not using our indoor voices.

her palms planted on my chest, as she supported herself. her nails buried in my skin as she moans.

“just like that baby, let me see you come,”

The dirty request makes her fasten the pace and bounce in circles. I clenched my ass trying to hold the climax.

“oh fuck, jj.” she cries while her legs shake, that's my signal.

I flip us over and bury myself deeper inside of her. groaning, I gave her rough thrusts, feeling her squeezing me.

“fuck baby, don't stop j,” her sweet moans send a bolt of heat to my balls. I rise on my knees, angling her hips watching her pussy slide back and forth as she grasps at the bedsheets.

“yes, yes,” y/n gives me one less moan as she milks my shaft. my muscles clench as she climaxes and I come right away, painting.

“oh fuck, y/n,” I grunt as my body relaxes

“ayo, glad y'all are done, 'cause I need to sleep,” we hear John B shouting as he bangs into the wall.

“oh…no,” y/n says, hiding her face with her palms.

“too late to be shy, cupcake,”

beach —

The tent was mostly in darkness, but the moon's glow peeked through. Y/N slipped in so quietly that I barely noticed. She moved around, and I could sense her doing stuff, but I was too tired to pay much attention.

I gave her a little peak and sure thing, her topless self was taking her shorts out, she was looking for something but all I could care about was the fact that she was only in her bikini, in front of me.

Yep, my dick is semi-hard.

“Can I help you, princess?”

“Sorry babe, I thought you were already asleep,” She whispers

“Luckily, I’m not, otherwise who would appreciate this view?” I told her, sitting up and trying to be as silent as her.

“Yeah, as if,”

“You’re so beautiful,”

“Thank you J” she replied still looking around

“I think what you’re looking for is inside my shorts”

“Huh?” Y/N furrowed her brows as she analyzed my expression, I shot her a malicious smile which made clear my intentions.

“Our friends are literally right there,” She whispered again

“You could be quiet?”

“Can’t guarantee,”

“But I can. Blow me, since you’re already on your knees,”

Y/N covered her mouth to stop the giggle, when she looked at me again, I could see that her mind was made and that it was in the same place as mine.

She adjusted herself in front of me and pushed me to the floor, slowly dragging my shorts out. She put her hair in a ponytail and held my cock in her hand firmly.

I could come just with the sight of her topless self in front of me. I’m leaking already, making her hand slide easily on my dick, I adjust myself and roughly remember that the sand is not that comfortable to be laid on. Still, Y/N lowered herself and closed her mouth around the tip, slowly sucking, and my hips snapped involuntarily.

She sucked me deeper into her mouth, almost to the base, I have to use all my force to not let a groan leave my lips when she chokes on me. Y/N keeps her pace slow but firm, I guess to not make any “suspect” sound.

My breath is heavy and my eyes shut, she releases me and I look down as her tongue glides along my hard-length cock.

“Fuckfuckfuck Y/N” I quietly curse

She uses both of her hands to stroke me and give my balls a nice squeeze, I can see her gaze darkening, she’s getting off and seems to be fighting off the urge to not ride me.

I know this look. I give her a signal to come closer.

“What?”

“Let’s fuck”

“No, not here.”

“I have the keys to the Twinkie,”

“Then what are you waiting for?” She murmurs, cleaning the sides of her mouth, she slid into one of my shirts and I pushed my shorts back, exiting both of us, half-naked.

We successfully sneaked out and the only sound around us was the waves, I grabbed her hand and guided us far from the sand.

As I open the doors, I look around and lock it behind us.

It all happened too fast, I slipped my tongue in her mouth and she desperately climbed on top of me, my shorts were now stuck to my ankles and Y/N’s bikini bottoms were pushed to the side.

Reaching for it, Y/N aligns my erection into her entrance and sinks in it.

Both of us let out a moan, feeling the pleasure fill our bodies, Y/N fastened her pace, bouncing on top of me, I’m too close for her, any minute I’m out, but since my girl is getting there I hold as much as I can.

“Mmm yes JJ, touch me”

I lifted my shirt out of her body and sucked and licked on her buds, she was bouncing and grinding her clit on me, it’s noticeable that she is getting there. The gasps and the nails digging on my tights confirm that.

With my free hand, I hold her waist and meet her halfway through her movements, each deep thrust sends me closer and closer to the edge. I can’t hold it any longer. Her moans are desperate and her whining is music to my ears.

“Y/n, fuck…”

Our breathing grows as our bodies slap together, and her mouth opens without making any sound, that’s my cue. I burst inside of her as her body shook on top of me. My last pound is weak leaking out of her.”

“Fuck baby, that was insane.”

“Thank God for the Twinkie.”

“More like than God for m-”

“JJ, I’m gonna kill you.” John B's voice echoes outside as he bangs the Twinkie door.

My bad, I guess.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

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shangchiswife · 2 years

Text

joel miller- the babysitter?

....

summary: sarah’s old babysitter comes to visit from graduate school and joel is surprised

warnings: smut, age gap

word count: 2140

link to part 2: part 2

....

Joel Miller stood in the kitchen, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

He was determined to get the pancakes in front of him perfect. It was Sarah’s birthday and he just wanted to show her how much he appreciated her.

He had just finished making breakfast when his daughter bolted down the stairs.

“Morning dad,” she chirped before taking a seat at the breakfast table where Joel had placed a hot syrupy stack of pancakes.

“Morning baby girl, happy birthday,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before taking a seat beside her.

“Pancakes! Thank you so much, dad!” she grinned before she immediately started to pile the pancakes onto her plate.

His gaze was soft as he stared at his little girl that was growing up so fast.

“So what’s the plan for today?” she asked with her mouth full.

“Mouth closed, Sarah, and whatever you want,” he ruffled her hair and she giggled.

“Thanks so much, dad, well I was thinking-”

Sarah was interrupted by the sound of the loud doorbell that sounded like it needed to be fixed.

The two glanced at each other with confusion.

“Were you expecting someone, Sarah?” Joel questioned, staring at his only daughter.

“No…” she shook her head quizzically.

Joel stood up, rubbing his hands on his jeans before going over to the door and opening it.

When he opened it he was shocked to see you standing there dressed in a pretty white sundress, the bright sun illuminating your beaming face.

“Y/N,” he said with surprise.

“Mr. Miller, it’s nice to see you. Is Sarah here? I have a present for her,” you lifted up a small pink gift bag in your hand.

“Yeah she is, uh…come in,” he scratched the back of his head as you came inside eagerly.

“Y/N!” Sarah screamed with joy as she abandoned her breakfast and darted over to you and immediately jumped into your arms.

“Sarah it’s so nice to see you! Look at how much you’ve grown,” you took her face in your hands and caressed it, her doe brown eyes gazing adoringly into yours.

You had babysat for Sarah during your gap year and during college, while you were at a university nearby Austin, wanting to earn some money. Then once you were done with college you were accepted into a good Graduate program outside of Texas and rarely visited due to your busy schedule.

Joel stared at you.

He remembered you asking him to read over your college essays and him trying his best to make comments even though your work was exceptional. Hell, he remembered you putting Sarah to bed even though she begged you to stay up and watch tv. You had played an important role in Sarah’s development and he appreciated that. And now here you were so mature, hardened from the city life.

“Here’s your gift, Sarah, I hope you like it,” you smiled, handing her the bright pink gift bag, watching as she threw out the wrapping paper.

“Woah a Britney Spears shirt and an Avril Lavigne cd! Thanks so much, Y/N,” Sarah marveled at the contents of the bag before embracing you once more.

“No problem. Anything for my favorite kid,” you winked at her as her cheeks glowed from the praise.

Suddenly the doorbell rang again and all heads turned to the crimson-red door once more.

“Good grief, how many more people are gonna knock on my door,” Joel muttered under his breath as you suppressed a giggle.

You had always had a little school-girl crush on Joel when you babysat Sarah. The way he was always so kind and gentle to you. It also didn’t help how handsome he was with his dark hair that was slightly greyed and his large muscular build, and serious dark eyes. All the girls your age had the same thoughts about Joel calling him a “silver fox.” Joel was completely oblivious to their comments, and if he did know he did a damn good job of hiding it.

This time Sarah ran up to the door and swung it open.

“Lily!” she squealed with delight as a girl around her age entered the house.

“Hey, Sarah, happy birthday! My mom was wondering if you wanted to go to the city mall with us and get a gift for you,” the girl said as Sarah immediately spun towards Joel and gave him her best puppy eyes.

You shook your head and chuckled.

You remembered when she used to do that when she wanted to stay up past her bedtime.

Joel scratched his facial hair.

“I don’t know…”

With that response, Sarah smacked him lightly with the Avril Lavigne cd she had just been gifted, her brown face scrunching up with anger.

“Alright, alright, easy I was just joking,” he chuckled as Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and then skipped away with Lily leaving the two of you alone.

It seemed that Joel had just realized and he turned around and stared at you.

“Oh…uh Y/N you can stay for dinner if you’d like I’m sure I can make something…” he said awkwardly.

You didn’t know why he was being so awkward, he was always normal when you were around.

“That sounds good, Mr. Miller,”

“Oh Y/N, you know you can just call me Joel,” his mouth twisted to the side which made you grin.

“Fine, that sounds good, Joel,” you smiled before plopping onto one of the sofas sprawled out in the cozy living room.

….

Once Joel had brought a warm plate of cookies, the awkwardness between the two of you was over and you started exchanging stories.

“And that was how Sarah got on the soccer team,” Joel wolfed down his cookie before you let out a hearty laugh.

“I can’t believe she got on there with no experience and a broken wrist,” you giggled.

“Yeah but now she’s carryin’ the team,” he said, putting the plate down on the table beside him.

As he moved over to do that simple action, your eyes flickered down to his jeans, they fit so snugly around his thick thighs.

Jesus Christ get a grip, Y/N you thought trying your hardest not to stare at them.

Once the man returned to his seat he spread his legs for comfort.

“Lord, this man is going to drive me insane,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as you could feel yourself growing wet from under your dress.

“You alright, there, Y/N?” the handsome man cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“I’m alright I just-”

At that moment your car keys flew off your wrist and under the sofa.

“Shit,” you cursed as you bent down under the couch and searched for them.

Joel’s eyes widened and his breath hitched the moment you bent down to reach for your keys, your pretty sundress hiked up and revealed your lacy black panties.

His cock twitched in his pants as he stared at your ass.

“Fuck,” he mumbled thinking that no one could hear him.

But you could.

You peeked at him for a second, watching as his eyes darken as they watched your every movement.

Wanting to tease him more you wiggled your ass, wanting to get a reaction out of him.

He adjusted in his seat, fidgeting uncomfortably as he rubbed his hands on his jeans.

You fished your car keys from under the couch and placed them promptly back in your purse before going over to Joel, kneeling.

“Joel, are you feeling alright?” you kneeled right in front of his thighs, placing a gentle hand on his knee as Joel held back a groan.

He did nothing but gape as you moved his thighs aside so that you could slip in between them.

“Fuck, sweetheart what are you doin’?” Joel brought a hand down to caress your cheek.

“Please,” you looked up at him pleadingly.

“Please what,” his fingers drew shapes into your cheeks as you closed your eyes with bliss.

“Please let me suck your cock,” you placed your head on his thigh, cheeks flushed as he stroked your hair.

“Are you sure?” he struggled with his words as you nuzzled into his thigh.

“I want to,”

Your words sent the blood rushing to his cock as he took one of his fingers and put it in your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded as you immediately complied, looking up at him innocently.

“Holy shit,” he said as he continued to thrust his finger in and out of your mouth watching as a string of drool pooled from your lips.

You whined, clearly wanting something bigger in your mouth.

“Alright princess, you show me how it’s done,” Joel rested his head back against the sofa as he watched your calculated movements.

You smirked as you rubbed your hands up and down his muscular thighs, then placed one hand on his clothed erection and traced it lightly.

“Uh uh, if you keep on doing that I’m not gonna be so nice,” he growled, gripping your chin roughly, making sure that you locked eyes with him.

You gave him a small smile before pressing a single kiss to his clothed cock.

Then you started working the zipper of his jeans, watching as his cock sprung out, pre-cum leaking from his tip, just waiting to be touched.

Your mouth watered at the sight.

Joel guided your head, pushing it closer to his cock as you wrapped your lips around it.

“Shit yeah that’s it, princess,” he said, his head hitting the back of the couch, enjoying the warmth of your tongue on his dick.

While you took more of him in your mouth you simultaneously stroked him and fondled his balls.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted as he raked his hands through your hair, fisting it tightly.

You moaned at the pulling, the vibrations going straight to Joel’s cock.

You sink deeper into him, wanting to please him desperately as you continued to fondle his balls and wrap one of your hands around the base of his shaft.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praised, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as you whimpered from the praise, growing wetter by the moment.

“Yeah, you like being called a good girl?” he teased, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched you struggle with his length.

Your pussy clenched around nothing as he continued to fist your hair.

You close your eyes with bliss as you continue to milk him while he lets out loud groans that go straight to your drooling cunt.

“Fuck I’m gonna-”

“Down my throat,” you breathe out as Joel completely loses it and stands up, thrusting his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace.

You moan loudly, tears leaking down your face as Joel continues to fuck you, groaning at his pleasure.

“You fuckin’ whore, having a little crush on your boss,”

You looked up at him, whimpering as tears continued to rush down your cheeks.

“Such a pretty little mouth, taking my cock so well,” he moaned as his pace faltered.

You rubbed your thighs together, wanting some friction of some sort to aid your untouched pussy.

Joel thrust one last time and released his seed, painting your throat white as he slipped out of your mouth.

He watched his cum drip down your chin and he almost became hard again at the pretty sight.

“Swallow,” he ordered as you immediately complied and swallowed his cum.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he knelt down to your cockdumb state and caressed your cheeks.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, sweetly.

“Yeah, Joel I’m amazing,” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him, threading your hand through his cropped hair.

The man’s breath hitched before he embraced you back, drawing circles on your back with the pad of his thumb.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“So damn cute,” he whispered in your ear as you giggled.

“You really think so?” your heart swelled with joy at his compliment.

“I know so,” he said as you hid your smile in his chest.

“So when can we meet again?” you asked looking up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and not serious like they usually are.

“Tomorrow Sarah is having her birthday party here and then Lily’s mom is taking em’ skating at the mall in the city so the house will be free,” he smirked as your cheeks heated up.

“I’ll be there,” you stood up, taking your purse and putting it over your shoulder.

“And tomorrow you’ll get your turn,” he said, winking.

You grinned at him before opening the front door and shutting it behind you.

You could not wait for tomorrow.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut

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kedsandtubesocks · 4 months

Text

what the water gave us

Merman!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: the fairytales were half true, the merman you found is indeed handsome but oh so grouchy

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, merman/human relationship, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older) instances of blood & injury, brief violence, Joel still being a terrifying force even as a merman, very light discussion of grief & loss of a loved one (Joel with Sarah & reader with their father) grumpy but soft!Joel, sharing food as a love language, use of nickname, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel, f!oral receiving - along with spicy moments, mentions of mating & merfolk courting rituals

word count: 7.6k

a/n: here it is - the nice final surprise for our mermay mini series, this is for all of us who would kiss fuck the handsome merman lol! Thank you to @pr0ximamidnight for letting me scream about this & to @the-wild-wolves-around-you for always being the best support - and to you, if you’re reading this, thank you so much ♡

The sun hangs low against the sky, painting the world in a soft orange creamsicle shade. Sliding your shoes off, you sink into the soft sand and walk the shoreline.

You love your aunt and uncle dearly. But having such a large get together at their house to meet the neighbors and their friends just got too much. It’s why you politely excused yourself and ended up here.

The crash of the waves, the peaceful quiet of the thankfully vacant beach, it all settles you while you walk aimlessly getting lost in your thoughts.

Until a sharp deep growl pierces the air.

The noise sounds close, electrifies your skin, and makes you stop. That’s when you notice trickles of blood in the water.

Petrified your eyes follow the trails.

Then you come across a sight you can’t believe.

By the long stretch of rocks leading out from the shore into the sea, a man sits half up on the rocks.

Older, distinguished in the wrinkles around his face and beautiful grays in his curled hair, his skin however seems drained of color. There’s also a huge gash against his side as if he was impaled.

Even though he’s partially out of the water, you notice, the skin at his hips don’t lead to legs. Your eyes go wide.

Another snarl of a growl comes and you realize it’s this man. His face fiercely stares you down in menacing terror.

“You’re hurt!” You blurt out.

“Get the fuck outta here!” He howls, even has an accent of someone from this area.

“You’re bleeding out too fast!” You don’t even know medical conditions that well to know this isn’t good.

On your walk here you noticed a few beach towels left vacant on the shore.

You immediately turn around and bolt.

The man screams out a curse, yelling at you to stop, but you don’t. Thankfully you don’t have to search too far down the beach to spot one of the forgotten towels. Quickly grabbing it you then rush back.

The strange man is still on the rocks, but it’s obvious he tried sliding down them in an escape. However it opened his wound up more.

“Wait!” Now you cry out. “I know this isn’t much but this can stop the bleeding for now!”

You offer weakly that you could maybe try to get medical attention, but even weary his eyes go wide, and he snaps out a fast sharp no.

“Then you need to wrap this around the wound or press into it.” You offer the towel.

“Y’don’t think I know how to handle this, ya dumb human?” He snarls.

Human. So he isn’t human like you suspected.

“Your wound is getting worse.” You urge now, promising you won’t get others but have supplies that can help.

“Do what ya fuckin’ want.” He snarls.

Gingerly, you place the towel down on a rock then scramble out of the water and head back to your family’s beach home. Thankfully everyone has moved upstairs, allowing you to sneak in, grab a first aid kit, then leave.

You just hope the man hasn’t left or gotten worse.

The sky grows dimmer. The sun almost vanishes beyond the horizon. And thankfully, the man is still on the rocks.

Yet his eyes flutter in and out of consciousness.

Keeping the first aid kit as dry as you can above the waves, you rush into the water towards him.

He’s barely awake, might not even fully notice you’re beside him now. But quickly you unpack things fast on the nearby rocks and tend to the wound as best as you can. The man hisses a half growl at the padding you place to stop the bleeding. Then you use an embracing amount of large bandages over the wound.

The bleeding doesn’t seep through the wraps and it’s enough for now. You’re afraid of leaving him here, but you’re more worried about moving him. So taking the towel you grabbed, you delicately drape it over his body, keeping his face open.

He seems human enough from his upper body. This mystery man is also handsome, scarily so. But the sky is getting dark, and you need to get home. Gathering your things you return to the beach house.

“Hey, where’d ya go?! And what’s with the first aid kit?” Your mom says a bit surprised.

You explain with a half lie that you went walking on the beach and helped a guy who got cut.

“Well look at you! What a hero.” She grins warm and her words feel soft.

That night you barely get any sleep and think of the man on the rocks. Earlier, when you were panicking trying to tend to his wound, you didn’t have time to fully look into the ocean at his lower body. But you caught a glimpse.

You saw a partial marine like body, a sea creature like tail even among the cloud ocean water.

A merman, you had possibly helped a merman.

Now you just hope he makes it through the night.

Scrambling awake the next morning, you make an excuse of wanting to enjoy the beach bright and early, and head to the rocks.

Of course he’s gone.

You almost knew he wouldn’t be here. A piece of you did hope, faintly hoped, he would be. Even the towel is gone.

Out in the ocean a loud splash, like someone slapping against the water, arrives.

There floating in the waves, only seen from the chest up, is the mystery man. He’s okay. He’s here. He’s alive.

“You’re alright.” You exhale relieved.

This man glares at you fiercely. It highlights his weathered wrinkles but also intensifies his handsome features. There’s an intimidating and hardened nature radiating off this gorgeous creature.

“Why did ya save me?” He flat out asks, and you’re stunned.

That’s what he came here to ask you about?

Your face even scrunches up slightly confused, but you tell him the truth.

He was hurt. You had to try and do something.

The answer does soften his features. If anything his eyebrows furrow harder.

“Y’fuckin’ tell anyone about me?”

For possibly being a mythical being, this man does speak very human. You shake your head no, promising you didn’t and won’t ever tell anyone.

He scoffs, distrusting.

With sharp narrowed eyes, he gives you one final look before slipping back into the water.

You sit on the shoreline for what feels like hours, but he doesn’t return.

A bit dejected and quiet, you head home.

Later, trying to get your mind off everything, you decide to enjoy the time you’re here and head into the water.

The wind provides a nice breeze, and the sea swirls around you. Slowly you trek deeper into the ocean letting the water rise. Eventually you comfortably float and glance back towards the shoreline. Your mom lounges in her lawn chair with the recent book she just bought. The sky, beautifully soft this morning, now seems dimmer with all the clouds moving in.

A wave crashes over you from behind.

Powerful and large it drags you under. You were so focused on watching the beach you didn’t even see it coming.

Now you’re under the water, caught beneath the sea.

The saltwater stings your eyes as you try swimming against the current. But you’re a bit disoriented and even trying to just float back to the surface seems harder.

Suddenly warm solid hands are on your hips pulling you up. You’re guided up to the surface. Sweet air fills you and you cough through the stinging in your lungs. You’re kept above the water, held up.

You whip around trying to see who helped you, but there’s no one around.

Someone screams your name frantically. Your mom and your aunt on the edge of the water shout for you.

Weary from the waves you slowly swim, practically float, back to shore before your family scrambles to help you out. They rapidly ask if you’re okay, covering you with towels.

“We saw you go under and didn’t come up for so long.” Your mom explains still very worried.

“Did you guys see that shark?!” From behind by the beach house, your uncle calls out as he comes running.

“Wait, shark?” You blurt out.

Your uncle rapidly explains how he saw the fin poking out of the water around you.

“Could have been a dolphin.” Your aunt offers.

“No, definitely looked like a shark. Thank goodness you got outta the water.” Your uncle playfully ruffles the towel over your head.

A few bystanders sitting nearby ask how you’re doing and also comment how they swore they saw the ominous shark fin swimming around you.

A shark. It doesn’t make sense. You felt strong very human hands on you. You knew a guiding force saved you.

But then the thick cotton clouds above pop and the rain comes. After heading inside and deciding to rest for the day, your gaze stays watching the harsh waves. The storm and ocean move in tandem. You wonder about the man you met, if he’s safe in the water.

Maybe it’s all the talk of the supposed shark in the water, but before you end up fading into a nap, you swear you see a fin swimming in the current.

- 𖤓 -

“You gonna be okay with us heading to the museum?”

For the millionth time you reassure your mom you’ll be fine staying back and getting more rest. The rain from yesterday’s storm stayed, a quiet downpour thankfully not as strong. After everyone heads out, you see this as an opportunity to head out to the beach.

With the rain, the shoreline is vacant. So with your umbrella you head to the beach. The murky water under the dim sky seems more mysterious and your eyes scan the waves, maybe waiting for something to appear.

“Glutton for punishment or somethin’?” The familiar twanged voice.

Immediately you snap your gaze to the side. There in the water, closer to the edge of the shore, is your mystery man.

You blurt out how worried you were about the storm and about him. His eyebrows furrow.

“Ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” He answers muttering.

“And you,” he asks, nudging his handsome chin towards you. “Y’doin’ alright?”

Your heart jumps in your chest. He came to check up on you.

Nodding firmly, you thank him gratefully. You knew it had to be him who saved you in the water.

The man simply nods.

You swallow hard then blurt out if he’s seen a shark.

His face hardens confused. It’s actually adorable with how curiously his dark eyes shine.

“A shark?” He mumbles.

“Yeah, thought I saw a fin in the water.” You don’t want to tell him your uncle did as well.

“Wasn’t a shark.” He answers gruffly, almost a scoff.

You want to press more, ask if it was a dolphin instead when your stomach instead growls loud. Your eyes go wide embarrassed.

One of his eyebrows raises.

“Sorry, need to grab some lunch soon.” You sigh embarrassed.

“Then head inside, lil’ minnow. Go get somethin’ to eat.” He says firm.

Before you can reply he’s sinking back in the water. But as he swims away that’s when you catch it faintly -

A sleek fin towering out of the water.

The shark creature is him.

Also…you realized he just called you a little minnow and for some reason, you find it oddly affectionate.

The next morning a mess of crabs clutter the beach. Even the neighbors besides your family’s place head to the shore to admire.

“It’s like the sea wanted us to have a crab bake.” Your mom laughs.

“They normally don’t wash up on the beach in this many numbers, it’s odd.” One of the neighbors explains to your uncle.

While everyone eagerly moves to get the crabs, your eyes stay on the water hoping to spot a fin among the waves.

At night, once everyone is asleep, you quietly slip out and head to the beach. The patio lights from the beach homes cast a soft illumination. The crashing waves among the abyss beyond are strangely calming even with the darkness of sea and sky stretching out wide.

Patiently you sit at the edge of the water, not even knowing what you’re truly doing here.

“Persistent one, ain’t ya?”

His voice emerges from the darkness and your soul almost jumps out of your body. This time the mysterious man flutters up from the waves and is closer than before.

“Why were there so many crabs on the beach?” You ask quickly and curious.

“Don’t know. Crabs are fuckin’ weird little shits.” He replies bluntly with a hard grimace.

A part of you thinks he does know why.

“How’s your wound?” You ask.

Gingerly he lifts himself closer to the shoreline and then goes to rest halfway upon the beach allowing you a sight of his torso.

The area where the wound is healing up nicely and you even grin relieved.

But him being half out of the water onto the shore also allows you a better glimpse at his lower body.

Tail. He has a tail.

It’s sleek, a deep stormy gunmetal gray, that in this dim lighting almost seems like a lovely rich blue. Faintly you can even see the dorsal find at his lower back.

It’s beautiful.

He’s beautiful. Lovely sun and age spots pepper his skin. His bare chest is broad and seems strong. This man from the sea is burly, solid, and aged, a force of the water that speaks of his power that’s weathered the tides

You don’t even realize you’ve said something, much less called him beautiful, until your mystery man responds.

“Y’think I’m beautiful?” He sounds terribly confused.

“Weirdest god damn human I ever met, lil’ minnow.” He adds muttering.

“I have a name.” You huff back, gently teasing.

“Yeah?”

Your lips twitch at his reply, and you give him your name. This beautiful merman stays quiet.

“And you? What’s your name?” You ask cautiously but hopeful.

No reply comes. You’re worried you’ve pressed your luck.

“Joel.”

Until he answers, and you discover this merman’s name is so lovely.

“Don’t normally see ya around here.” Joel comments.

You perk up asking if he lives nearby.

“More or less.” A cryptic answer.

You explain that you’re here for the summer. After finishing up for the semester you and your mom decided to take a break out here.

“Younger than I fuckin’ though.” Joel says harsh under his breath, and annoyance bristles in you.

“Probably not as young as you think.” You argue back, even explaining you’re just starting grad school so the break was needed.

Joel scoffs, not looking convinced.

“Maybe you’re just an old barnacle.” You fire back, teasing.

Surprisingly, this man from the water snorts amused. The sound is precious. You want to ask him more, learn more about him, but a tratorious yawn escapes you.

“Head to sleep, lil’ minnow.” Joel mumbles.

“Not tried.” You huff, but another yawn betrays you.

“Mhm.” Joel hums, and you think you see a twinkle of amusement in his deep eyes.

There’s so much you want to say, maybe even ask when you’ll see him again. But rising up off the sand, you hear a splash in the waves.

The spot where Joel rested is now empty. A wistful ache settles into your chest.

However the next morning though, an impressive mess of clams and oysters are on the beach. A bright bubble of a laugh almost escapes you.

When the night rolls in, you again sneak back down to the beach. This time you bring some of the leftover sushi from dinner.

You don’t wait for long before Joel swims onto the shoreline.

You greet him with a warm grin. His focus however is on the container on your lap. His handsome scrunched up face seems grumpier.

“What’s that?” He rumbles.

“It’s just fish and rice.” You explain opening the container. “Thought we could share.”

“It’s sushi.” He flat out says and your eyes go wide. He knows what sushi is and you even admit your surprise.

“Yes I know what sushi is.” He replies a bit crabbier. “Don’t live in a fuckin’ damn cave.”

“Where do you live?” You ask now.

“Somewhere.” He replies flatly not answering, so you don’t push it.

Instead you return to the meal before you.

“Since it’s fish, thought you might enjoy it.” You offer.

“You…brought me food?” His voice sounds steeled, cautious. You realize how suspicious it sounds and how hesitant he would be.

“It’s fine, I promise.” You reassure and even prove it by chomping down on one of the California rolls. Trying to ease the tension you ramble about the different types of sushi you like and those you don’t care for too much.

You realize now you must sound ridiculous. You’re about to clamp your mouth shut when very cautiously, slowly, Joel reaches over and grabs one.

It’s like feeding a stray cat and not wanting to scare it. You can’t help but turn to stare and see his reaction. He plops it in his mouth and cutely chews thoughtfully.

“Well?” You ask a bit hopeful.

Joel simply shrugs, almost bored, not even speaking on the taste or if he likes it.

But you do notice he reaches for another one.

In the quiet night, you and Joel simply sit enjoying this space together. You try to ask more about him and about his world. But the dry unamused look he gives his answer.

Joel instead is the one asking questions about where you live, what are you studying for, and one question that knocks you out surprised.

“Y’dont got a mate.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but you still almost choke on a sushi roll.

Stammering, you ask him what made him say that.

“Don’t have the mark humans wear that they’re taken.” Joel comments then moves to point to his ring finger where a wedding band would sit.

“Some couples don’t wear bands.” You argue back.

“Oh? Ya one of ‘em then?” He challenges.

Deflated, you mutter out a low no.

“Why?” Joel asks direct.

“Why what?”

“Why don’t ya have a mate?” He questions serious and his thick voice crawls over your skin.

You shrug, not knowing how to fully answer. Instead you half heartedly tell him you haven’t found anyone yet.

“Don’t sound like a good enough reason.” Joel replies.

Now you’re annoyed, even feel your face scrunch up at his casual tone.

“Why do you even care?” Your question comes out a bit sharper than expected.

Joel shrugs. “Just don’t make sense why a young thing like you is alone.”

Immediately you fire back that you’re not alone. You have friends and family that love you.

Now you stare at Joel hard and fully annoyed. His dark eyes scan your face while he stays composed, unable for you to read.

Your phone chimes with a text notification breaking the moment. You decide to call it a night. Joel is quiet when you move to leave.

The air hangs thick and tense. Internally, you try reasoning that you’re literally talking to a mythical being. This merman was bound to have a strange view of human customs.

You simply tell him good night and walk back.

Before you head inside, you turn around to the shore unable to stop yourself.

Joel very visibly is still in waves. His upper half floats among the obsidian sea with his dark eyes hyper focused on you. However once you spot him, let your eyes lock into his, the merman sinks into the water.

That night you dream of a man from the waves so handsome and real in your arms, but it feels as dangerous as a storm.

The following morning, instead of creatures fit for a seafood restaurant waiting, the most lovely shell sits on the sand.

“Oh that’s pretty.” Your mom even coos. It is.

Cherished and still in awe, you place the shell on your dresser.

Later that night you return to the beach again. This time time with a bag of chips.

Joel arrives hastily.

“The shell is lovely.” You tell him.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He answers simply, but his gaze stays eyeing the chip bag. Your heart warms even at his grumpy reply.

Opening the bag, Joel wrinkles his nose.

“Smells salty as hell.” He sneers.

“Says someone who lives in saltwater.” You snort munching on one of the chips.

“That’s sayin’ something if I say that shit is salty.” Joel huffs.

“They’re delicious.” You clarify holding out a chip to him. Joel’s face scrunches up even more, you laugh.

“What’s with all the sudden human food?”

You shrug. “Just a nice late night snack, thought we could share that’s all. Let you maybe just try more human food.”

With a cautious hard frown, Joel leans forward to the chips in your fingers and moves to bite it. In the process though his lips slide over your fingers.

His mouth is hot, wet. You even feel the brush of his tongue against your fingertips and try not reacting.

Joel makes a face as he chews, maybe not aware of what he just did. Your heart however rages fast and you ask if he liked it.

Now Joel’s eyes flicker to yours. You notice him swallow, notice how thick and bare his neck is and how you want to kiss it already.

He shrugs. You’re learning that’s a very common Joel answer and can’t push for more.

“Your mother. She seems nice.” He suddenly says.

You’re surprised he noticed her earlier out here. She’s been enjoying reading while you stayed inside enjoying a nice nap.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” You admit with a soft smile.

“Just you and her?” He presses and you agree happily.

“Where’s your father?”

You didn’t know you’d be discussing this with him. But you explain gently that your dad passed away when you were younger.

“Oh.” Joel’s voice pops a bit. “I… I apologize.”

You reassure him you’re alright. You were young, a child then, and appreciate his sympathy.

“Besides my mom always told me if I ever missed him, I just had to look up.” You tell Joel.

“What?” He asks and you turn your gaze up to the sky.

The stars are faintly out but so sweetly twinkling in the dark.

“My mom said my dad sits with the stars now, watching down and always shining bright to remind me he’s always with me, even when I can't see him.”

The words still warm you to this day.

Joel stays silent.

“And you? What’s your family like?” You ask returning your eyes back to earth, back to this son of the sea.

Joel continues to stay quiet. His focus now falls to the sand where you sit. You should’ve known he wouldn’t respond to something so personal.

“Got a brother, but he doesn’t live too close. He’s gotta pod of his own now.”

He has a brother. And they call their families pod. This information warms you, feels precious and rare.

“I had a pup.” Joel admits.

He had a child.

“Lost her many years ago.” He mutters soft.

Your heart shatters deep in your chest.

“Joel, I’m so incredibly sorry.” You tell him earnestly and sympathetic.

You gently ask him what her name was.

“Sarah.” A lovely name.

You glance back up at the sky. You don’t know anything about merfolk culture, how they honor those who have passed. But you can at least honor her the way you know how.

“Sarah is definitely up there too among the stars, watching over you.” You say reassuring.

The stars seem to twinkle back.

Again, Joel stays silent. You’re worried you might have stepped too far.

“Thank you.”

But in the soft breeze of the night, you almost miss his kind soft whisper of a reply back.

You and Joel sit in a soft silence for the rest of the night.

Waking up the next morning, from the view of your bedroom window, another shell sits on the beach.

This goes on for a little over a week. You sneak down to talk with Joel, even teach him how to play tic tac toe in the sand and discover he’s a sore loser.

Then beautiful trinkets arrive on the beach the following mornings.

Some were dazzling sea glass pieces you want to find a way to make into a necklace. Once he even left you a weather and a very old waterlogged broken compass.

You cherish it all.

But then one night, Joel doesn’t show. You wait, and wait. But no appearance of your merman. And no new seashell or trinket sits on the beach the morning after.

Again you head down to the beach at night. Still no sign of Joel.

You try not to get wrapped up in worry. But soon a week passes.

Now you’re worried, fully wondering what could have happened. You don’t even know where he lives to say you can simply go check on him. You feel a bit helpless, frustrated.

At the week’s end, your aunt wants to take you and your mom to a nice dinner in town. That night enjoying the nice meal, your eyes still drift to the view of the sea. Watching the soft waves, the dreamy sea, you simply hope Joel is okay.

When you get back, you head straight to bed and wonder if you’ll see your merman again.

In the morning, you almost don’t look out the window, like you’re trying to slowly detach yourself. But you do.

On the beach sits a new shell.

You practically fly out of the house and down to the shore.

Later that night, Joel this time rests on the edge of the water - waiting for you.

He’s never looked more beautiful in the moonlight.

You exhale relieved, welcoming him back. Joel’s eyes seem endless as he stares at you nodding

“Sorry, had some things I had to sort out.” He explains, even apologizes. You don’t even want to press why or get upset that he simply vanished.

He’s here and he’s alright. That’s what matters.

“I know it might be too personal, and you can tell me no,” you begin weakly. “But where do you live around here?”

You rationally explain it’s simply to see and make sure he’s alright. You even vow to keep it a secret.

“Worried about an old ass barnacle like me, lil’ minnow?” Teasing, he’s faintly teasing.

But you do worry about him. Even tell him that. Joel doesn’t reply for a moment.

“Tomorrow, come ‘ere early. And I’ll show ya.” His voice is as steady as a river.

You barely get any sleep that night. Before the sun even reaches over the horizon, with the sky faintly showing signs of waking up, you head down to the shore.

Joel already waits for you. He’s ethereal in the morning light. The soft cotton candy sky paints him in a delicate glow.

You walk along the shore while he stays in the ocean and you follow his lead. The guide of his fin from the waves would look menacing, the sign of a terrifying shark in the water. Yet you follow it without hesitation. Thankfully the pace is easy and you enjoy the fact that you simply have him by your side in his own way.

Slowly you walk further away from the familiar beach homes and down towards a more secluded part of the coastline. The houses begin to dwindle. Those still standing houses seem older in their style, rickety and abandoned.

Compared to your family’s beach home that sits further back on the land, these homes sit right above the water.

Weathered from their location, they seem like ghosts watching you. Eventually Joel leads you to a home that’s collapsed.

Halfway in the water, halfway in the sand, it is a cluster of debris and scattered remnants of a home

You watch Joel swim into it from the sea.

So this is where he stays. You find a small alcove to duck under and then step in. Surprisingly, the beach house had collapsed into a father cozy like alcove.

The echoes of the ocean softly swirl all around. When you glance out the opening, it gives a clear sight to the sea where Joel must freely swim in and out hidden by the cover of this remnant.

He’s made a home out of these hollow bones. He emerges out of the water, and his freshly slicked back hair has always made his face seem sharper. But here in the soft atmosphere he seems even more dreamy.

You earnestly thank him for showing this to you and even admire its coziness.

“Y’like it?” His voice is gruff as you continue taking in the space. Yet you feel eyes on you the entire time.

“I do.” You admit truthfully.

That’s when you spot the towel you gave him. It’s crinkled up in a ball, still covered in some dried blood. But he kept it. That reality gets logged in your throat.

You go to sit down on the sand and slide off the bag you brought. You didn’t know how long the trip was going to take and trying to add to the lie you told your family about going to search for sand dollars, you added the bag.

Now it proved handy as you pull out the box of assorted fruits you packed.

Feels like it’s been so long since Joel and you have done this.

Handing him an orange slice, he bites down on the whole thing not even letting you finish explaining not to eat the peel. You shriek a bit panicked, but he mumbles about you worrying too much.

“Well, someone’s gotta worry for you.” You huff back.

In this seemingly short yet expansive time you’ve known him it’s like you’ve become completely bonded to this strange man.

In very common Joel fashion, he settles into silence. Playfully taking an orange slice, you put it in your mouth then smile at Joel.

He snorts a faint type of laugh and it’s everything.

This time you also notice how close he rests on the sand next to you now, closer than he’s ever been before.

“Y’know…” Joel begins soft. “Never got to thank ya for savin’ me.”

His tender low rumble almost mixes in with the crash of the tide. You think of the blood stained towel still here.

“It’s okay. And you’re welcome. Plus I think we’re even now at this point.” You gently tease.

A deep hum comes.

“Ain’t like any human I’ve ever met.” He says even lower than before.

Something indescribable claws in you, and you glance at him. Joel is undeniably gorgeous, the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.

His usual slicked back curls are starting to dry, highlighting their light fluff, and you ache to brush back some of his strands. However his intense gaze bores unflinchingly into yours. It’s like his eyes spark a fire in your chest burning everything in its wake.

Before anything can be said, Joel suddenly snaps up sharply glaring out to the sea.

“Need to get ya home, lil minnow. Gonna storm soon.”

The sky looked so clear on your walk here. Even now it doesn’t seem like a storm approaches. But you trust Joel. The minute you reach the beach house, thunder rolls in the distance.

Later, in the shower, your mind drifts to Joel. Your thoughts have been with him so much. But now they cross into a more sticky territory.

Joel resting beside you earlier was the first time you had ever seen him fully out of the water. Your eyes snuck as many glances as you could trying to commit the sight to memory.

You knew his golden skin bled into the color of his tail. But his tail, now that you fully saw it, was magnificent. Strong, sleek and sturdy, it speaks of how much power he holds as a son of the sea. Yet you can’t stop wondering where his reproductive organs were.

You knew he had a daughter but you also don’t know if maybe he adopted her. You didn’t want to ask about merfolk procreating, but your mind swirls with thoughts of it. Thoughts of something slippery slick, simply Joel’s, slithering in between your legs clouds your imagination and your throat goes dry.

You’re so caught up in those thoughts, you don’t even head down to the ocean that night.

Instead you dream of merman and the taste of saltwater on your lips.

-𖤓-

The beach is crowded today. You should’ve known the weekend would bring in more crowds. The amount of people must have deterred Joel away from leaving a gift.

You admit you were a little heartbroken when you didn’t see anything on the beach this morning, but you understood.

Now you sit peacefully in the water and search for more shells in the sand to add to your growing collection.

Eventually a soft beach ball gently bumps onto you.

“Sorry!” The splashes come, and off to the side are a pack of three frat boy like guys.

“Kinda got away from us.” One of them says bashfully.

“It’s okay.” You reassure.

“I like your swimsuit.” The guys smiles, and you thank him.

“You wanna come hang with us? You look lonely.” One of them asks then takes a swig of his beer.

Politely you decline, but thank them for the offer.

“Aww,” another says, swimming a bit closer. “C’mon. Gotta be better than just sitting here doing nothing.”

“I’m fine.” You kindly try to stay composed, but you already don’t care for how persistent they are.

“Man just leave her, she looks like a fuckin’ prude anyway.” One of them laughs, and your gut feels uneasy.

Fucking pieces of shit.

You don't even reply, not knowing what else they can do. Skin feeling tight, you want to get out of the water now, and hope they leave soon.

They snicker and laugh with each other, talking amongst themselves. It makes your skin crawl even more. Now you really decide to leave.

Suddenly a horrified scream comes.

It’s male, pierces through the air with pure agony.

You whip your gaze around and find blood spilling into the water. One of the guys that was just speaking to you is the one screaming, holding his leg swearing something attacked him. Another one of the guys then collapses into the sea as he screams. More blood colors the waves.

“There was something in the fucking god damn water!” One of them yells.

Off to the distance someone yells ‘shark!’ and terror fills you fast. The panicked commotion arrives. You frantically scan around.

The fin barely moves above the waves, but you catch a glimpse before it dips below the water.

From the shore, your mother screams your name begging you to get out. You return to land but are determined to find Joel.

“I’m gonna take a walk, clear my head.” You tell your mom.

“There’s a shark in the water! Just stay inside for the day.” She urges.

Promising you won’t get in the water you even reassure her you’ll have your phone on hand. With an apprehensive sigh, she nods.

You practically fly down the coastline.

Even in the middle of the day, no one pays you a second glance. Thankfully further down the beach the commotion trickles down until it’s just you and the sea. Approaching the decayed and vacant homes, this time they feel like guards keeping you safe.

Immediately you slide into Joel’s alcove. You’re not sure it was him, but something inside just whispers it was.

You discover a sight.

Joel sits halfway out of the water and snaps his face up to you. His eyes are what you notice first. Even with how dark they are, his pupils are now slits, reptilian like. Then when he spots you, they expand and dilate as his face crumbles.

He mutters out your name.

You spot his hands - now instead claws with faint traces of blood staining them.

Before you is an apex predator, a true hunter of the waters. And he’s glorious.

The blood seems to confirm it was him in the water. He attacked those guys.

“Go home!” He barks, a fierce growl.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask softly, approaching him with hesitant steps.

He repeats his words, roaring at you to leave, but you don’t. Even with how fierce and terrifying his voice rages, you move, almost possessed, to kneel on the sand beside him.

“Are you hurt?” You repeat again gently.

He pauses before barking out a quick no.

“You were in the water?” You question low.

“I…” you’ve never heard Joel hesitate like this. Your eyes stay on his claws.

A moment passes.

“Always try to swim nearby when y’get in the water.” Joel admits, like he doesn’t even register yet that he's speaking.

Your heart gets tangled in your throat.

“Normally I stay far away and deep enough, but those fucking boys… the things they said.” He snarls disgusted and vicious.

He attacked them because of you. That reality rearranges your soul.

You now gingerly reach down to the water and gingerly grab his hand. Reflectively he almost draws away.

“What’re y’doing?” He mutters sharp.

“There’s still blood.” You whisper back then start pouring water over his hands, cleaning him.

The emotions surging in you feel too deep and strong to describe, but they consume you. You rinse his hands, being cautious of the sharp edges, watching the water fade away the crimson more and more.

It’s quiet in the alcove. Just you, him, and the soft sound of the waves. When his hands are free of blood, you gather one in your grasp. His talons are sharp. He’s dangerous, and you adore him. You gently draw it up to your face.

He doesn’t stop you. You even worry this might be too much, possibly overstepping. But this feeling in your chest is so raw you can’t stop.

You lean into Joel’s palm and gently kiss the center of it as your eyes close.

“Thank you.” You speak, barely recognizing your soft voice.

Suddenly you’re jostled. Your eyes snap open petrified thinking he’s shoving you away. Only to find he’s instead swiftly pulling you closer.

You’re only allowed to process that in a blink before his lips crash into yours. You inhale sharp but eagerly scramble to grab onto him now.

He tastes like the sea, of something deep and ancient but beautifully Joel, and your mouth opens up to him wide and greedy.

You can tell he hasn’t kissed recently, or maybe kissing other merfolk is different, but he’s messy. Teeth clink and crash, but it’s fierce, truly him.

Like the surge of a wave Joel moves against you unleashed, and you draw him closer now moving to rest back against the sand.

Joel shifts moving over your body with a clumsy but earnest ease as he continues kissing you fervently.

Your hands run up his broad and strong shoulders while his hands, claws no more, now map your body out.

“So god damn soft.” He says hoarse and deep against your lips. Then Joel burrows his face against your neck and inhales.

“Smell s’good.” His voice trails off while his lips begin kissing and nipping against your skin.

Your body reacts, rising up to grind against him.

“Joel.” You whisper out his name and he growls. The vibrations of it rumble against your skin rattling your bones.

“Wanna mate ya.” He mutters low, as if smoke leaks into his voice. “Wanna make y’mine.”

“Please please please.” You beg him dizzy and clawing at him.

Joel licks at your skin, and your eyes close in bliss.

He’s a force, dizzying and consuming like the sea itself, and you happily fall under his current. Your swimsuit top is discarded and Joel makes quick work diving down your body to your bottoms.

Without warning he shoves his face into between your legs, flat against your pussy and inhales deep. The most powerful groan rattles the air and you whine.

“Wanna taste, want more.” He mutters possessed, clawing at your bottoms that you shimmy out of.

Now you squirm a bit self aware, very hyper aware, of how intently Joel pokes and strokes around your folds with eyes focused.

You even shift your legs hoping to close them when he growls.

“Don’t hide. S’mine.” The possessive nature leaking out of his voice makes you drip.

That first lick he takes against you, you almost come especially when he groans debauched.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, knew y’d taste so fuckin’ good.” Joel mumbles.

What he lacks in his full knowledge of your body, he makes up for that in how fervently he lets his tongue explore and dive into you. It drives you mad, and your hips trash trying to press into him more.

When you come, he moans loud.

Lips wet with your essence Joel crawls up your body in a daze kissing you as much as he can.

Now he grinds down into you and you feel a very new sensation, a hard bump against your core.

Joel draws back and you now fully see the new raised area against his front torso. His hand palms it, the same way a human would, and he hisses. You ache to touch him.

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You mutter.

Joel blinks back at you, still hazy in his dark eyes. But he leans down and bumps his head against yours soft.

“Starlight, y’sure you want this?” You sure you want me, is what you hear.

You nod and kiss him soft on the lips.

A part of you wanted to be afraid, to not face the growing desire for this creature of a man. But when Joel and you become one, it feels as if the world becomes whole. Like this is what it’s always meant to be, you and him.

Your legs sliding against his tail, his teeth biting into your neck with an aching promise wanting to break the skin, you discover a crescendo of passion like no other, a crashing of the land and sea.

He is yours, just as much as you as his.

Now curled against him on the sand, your merman keeps you in his arms tracing his fingers against your shoulder. Every inch of you feels sore but in a delicious way. You enjoy resting against his sturdy frame.

“You’re still so warm.” Joel mutters a bit in awe.

“And you feel nice and cool.” You smile wiggling closer to him even while being practically glued to his side.

“Can I ask…” you begin hesitantly, and he hums a rumble of a noise that sounds like he’s giving you the okay.

You ask him why he suddenly vanished for that week.

Joel sighs, dreary and deep.

“Didn’t wanna face how… close I was gettin’ to you.” The reveal makes your heart flutter.

Softly you rub against his solid chest then lean to kiss it.

“Glad you came back.” You tell him, and he simply nods.

However even in this soft afterglow, a small doubt trickles now in.

“Joel.”

“Hm?” He sounds as if he’s falling asleep against you.

“Is this… Are you sure this is okay?” You ask delicately.

Joel snorts.

“Yeah, s’okay.” He reassures you. “Been practically courting ya this entire time anyway.”

He says it almost casually, like if it’s an afterthought. Your mind however skips over itself.

You bolt up to look down at your merman still lounging on the sand. His face scrunches up pouting at the loss of your body next to his.

“Wait? Courting?!” Your voice shrills.

Joel rolls his eyes and tugs at your arm trying to get you back into his embrace.

“What do you mean courting?!” You continue sqwuaking.

“You sound like a seagull.” He deadpans. You swat at his shoulder urging him to please explain.

You even stare at him determined. An adorable almost bitterly bashful expression colors Joel’s handsome face. Those deep eyes of his dart away from your stern gaze.

“S’nothin’. Been takin’ care of you same way you’ve been takin’ care of me, that’s all.” He replies gruffly still seeming embarrassed.

Suddenly it all clicks.

A few semesters back you took an ecology course for a science credit. You faintly remember a lecture about how different species mating behaviors. Your professor even made a comparison of a man winning a game of billiards against another guy to establish himself as a strong opponent.

In essence, sometimes mating rituals were about proving you were a strong provider and protector.

Joel had been doing this all along. The way he protected you on the beach, the various seafood critters left on the beach, the way you also fed him, along with the beautiful seashells and trinkets he left -

It had all been his own way of showing his affection and intentions.

Your merman opens his mouth to say something, but you pounce on him quickly. You kiss him pouring in all your devotion you can, and Joel welcomes you greedily.

Eventually a text from your mom comes asking if you’re alright and it gently bursts the bubble you’ve been happily sheltered in. Begrudgingly you kiss Joel many times goodbye. He of course swims by your side the entire walk home.

Later that evening, you sneak back out to the shoreline and kiss your handsome myth of man so many times under the moon's watchful eye.

“So you’re mine?” You ask quietly among the crash of the waves.

Joel nods firm and steady. “Just like you’re mine.”

You float in a dreamy bliss and wish more than ever you don’t have to leave him for the night.

“Don’t worry, lil’ minnow.” He reassures you with one last soft kiss. “I’ll be in the water.”

It’s a promise, a vow, as true and beautifully ancient as the sea.

#if you’re reading this thank you so much me and merman Joel are giving you all the underwater treasures #joel miller x reader #merman!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #Joel miller fic #under the water series #Joel 🤎#pedrostories

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irb-pascalito-99 · 6 months

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Catch Me If You Can

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Smut, teasing, unprotected p in v, come play

Summary: Joel’s girl can’t stop staring at him while he’s fixing the table they broke.

A/N: This is an excerpt from Chapter Thirteen of my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more of this pairing visit a03.

I lean back and watch the muscles in Joel’s back flex as he drills new bolts into the table. Beads of sweat roll down his arms and create dark patches on his t-shirt. I crawl toward him and kiss his neck as he puts the drill down.

“I think you should do this with your shirt off,” I mumble against his skin.

My hands slide underneath his shirt, trailing up his stomach and chest. Joel chuckles. He leans back slightly to give me better access.

I grab the hem of his t-shirt and pull it over his head. He lifts his arms as I do. Joel allows me a couple more kisses before he starts to work on the table again.

I chew on my bottom lip while I watch him. Joel doesn’t have defined abs or the form of a bodybuilder, but there’s no mistaking he has muscles. His arms and back flex as he picks up another table leg to screw into place.

I offered help when he started, but he wouldn’t allow it. Now, he focuses on the task at hand. His eyebrows crease as he bolts the leg into place. He shakes it firmly to assure it is strong before moving on to the next one. He looks over his shoulder to see me still staring at the definition in his arms and back.

“Careful now, I’ll start thinkin’ you only want me for my body,” he jokes with a wink in my direction.

“I like you for more than your body,” I lean back against a nearby wall while Joel searches for the bolts for the next leg.

“Oh really, like what?” He asks. I roll my eyes at his obvious attempt for compliments, but happily play into it.

“Well, turns out you’re good at making furniture,” I joke. He laughs and shakes his head before screwing in the next bolts.

I could think of a million reasons why I like Joel. He’s unbelievably generous. He’s smart, but he doesn’t rub your face in it. He’s amazing with Sarah, and so understanding with Ellie. He’s the kind of man who fucks you so hard against a table it breaks, and then spends the next afternoon putting it back together again. When he pauses with the drill again I continue with an honest answer to his question.

“You make me feel safe,” I say. He puts the drill down and turns his full attention to me. “I don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I can fall apart a little around you. You make me feel safe.”

I keep my eyes on the ground. I don’t want to see Joel’s reaction to my statement. I don’t want to know if it’s too much too soon. We sit in silence until he picks up the drill again.

“You make me feel safe too,” He says. I lift my eyes from the floor. He fumbles with the screws in his hands. “I’ve been focused on Sarah for so long. It’s nice to be able to let go a little sometimes, have somethin’ for myself you know?”

My heart flutters at the notion of being something he holds for himself, that I could be as important to him as he is to me. I know Joel loves deeply, and Sarah will always be the biggest thing in his life, but I hadn’t thought of how lonely it must have been for him over these last several years.

Obviously Sarah’s mom leaving had left a hole in their family, but Joel lost more than a co-parent. He lost a partner, a wife. He’s never talked about her in a romantic sense. He hasn’t mentioned her at all since the hospital. I haven’t wanted to push him into opening up, but something about this conversation feels different. It feels as though he’s offering me something here.

“Did you have that with Annie?” I ask. Joel’s shoulders tense, and I fear I may have misread things. “Was it ever just easy?”

Joel focuses on drilling the screws into the final leg before he answers me. My heart thumps in anxiety. I shouldn’t have pushed. The weekend was going so well. Why did I have to push my luck?

“I guess it was for a minute there, when we were just young kids livin’ our lives,” He examines his work, shaking the table legs again as he continues explaining. He doesn’t look at me while he talks. “She got pregnant so early into our relationship though, so it didn’t stay like that for long.”

I debate on leaving it like that. Joel is clearly uncomfortable, but I want to know him better. I hardly know his past at all.

“Why? What happened?” I ask.

Joel rubs his face and then wipes his hands on his jeans. He doesn’t shy away from the topic, but I can tell he wants the conversation to be over. From what I can tell after conversations with Tommy and Sarah, Joel doesn’t talk about Annie with anyone these days. I find that strange coming from a man who’s been so adamant that I open myself up to others.

“It was just a lot of pressure,” Joel grabs one end of the table and turns it back over to stand on it’s legs. “Neither of us knew what we wanted or how to handle it. Our parents were furious. We thought marriage was the best answer but neither of us were ready for it. It was a giant dose of real world issues shoved into our teenage romance, so no it wasn’t ready for long.”

“Tommy mentioned you guys were on your own with all that.” I respond. Joel turns to me with a slightly angered look on his face.

“It’s not Tommy’s place to be sharing that,” he says. I shrink back into the wall slightly. Joel’s anger immediately dissipates after seeing my reaction. “Sorry it’s just, a part of my life I don’t want you to have to deal with.”

I try not to be angry that he chooses to hide that part of his life from me, but I find myself wondering why he doesn’t think he can trust me with it. He seems so keen on knowing my secrets and holding my darkness. I wish he’d let me do the same for him.

He doesn’t give me any more room to press him on the topic, choosing instead to bring the energy in the room back up. He picks me up and carries me over to the table. I squeal and kick my legs in the air, caught off guard by suddenly being thrown over Joel’s shoulder.

When he sets me down he places me on the finished table and stands between my parted knees. He places his hands on the surface of the table bracketing my hips. His lips come forward to meet mine, pulling me in for a deep kiss when he shakes the table roughly again. It stays firm on the ground, no creaking or concerns that it might collapse.

“Now that’s a proper table,” he says with a grin. He pulls me in for another kiss, immediately deepening it and bringing me closer to the edge of the table. As the kiss gets more heated I push him away. “What?”

“We are not fucking on the table again Miller, you just fixed it.” Joel’s big brown eyes morph into a sad pleading expression, but I refuse to cave. Instead I shake my head and cross my arms.

“Oh come on,” He kisses my neck, biting down enough to leave a mark on the skin.

“Joel” I moan and throw my head back. When he moves to the other side of my neck I shake my head to clear it and crawl across the table to the other side.

He stands with his hands still on the table. I grin at him while he gives me a grumpy look on the other side of the wood.

“Not on the table,” I say cheekily.

When he starts to round the corner toward me I run off in the opposite direction, heading for the stairs. I giggle as I hear him start to run after me. I’m halfway up the stairs when I feel his hands grip my waist and pull me off my feet. I kick my feet in the air and squeal.

Joel places my knees on the ground. I grab the edge of the steps in front of me and gasp when he grabs the waistband of my leggings and underwear, pulling both down my thighs. The material gathers at my knees as he fumbles with his belt.

“Joel,” I whine. The tension pulls in my center so much it almost hurts. I can feel the center of my thighs becoming slick as my wetness drips down the inside.

“I know baby. I know, I’ll make it feel better.” Joel yanks his own pants down enough that his cock springs out.

His hard length presses against my back causing me to moan as I press back into him. What started out as playful banter has turned into overwhelming need. Joel runs his fingers along my folds, groaning loudly when he realizes how wet I am.

“Oh darlin’, you need it bad huh?” He mumbles huskily into my ear. I nod my head, pushing myself back against him again.

He chuckles in response as he brings his hand back to his cock. He pushes his length through my folds slowly. I push my body back into his hoping that he’ll begin to fill me. I let out a hiss when the head of his member brushes against my clit before he pulls back again.

After a couple thrusts his cock notches at my throbbing entrance. I’m panting as I wait for him to press forward, on the verge of tears from anticipation. He kisses my shoulder while he pushes just the tip inside and freezes again.

“Please, please, please, plea-” I beg, cut short from the delicious stretch of his cock inside me. I throw my head back on his shoulder as he thrusts forward. His hands grip my hips to hold me still while I tremble around him.

Once he’s filled me to the brim he pauses to let me adjust. My pussy flutters around his pulsing length. I could probably come just from this, but he soon retreats and slams his hips back into mine. He keeps his pace slow, but his thrusts hard and deep. Each one pushes the breath out of my lungs.

“Fuck, Joel.” I moan as he thrusts in again. “It feels so good, you feel so good inside me.”

“Yeah?” He pants. His hands slip on my hips as he struggles to maintain his grip through the combined sweat of our bodies. Words are becoming increasingly more difficult as the pleasure builds so I nod my head in response.

I feel my core tighten and clench around Joel’s cock. He groans and starts to thrust harder and slightly faster. His hand slips around my front to start making small circular motions on my clit. The coil inside me starts to tighten even more, causing me to lurch forward on the stairs.

I rest my forehead on the stairs as I call out for Joel, no longer aware or in control of what I’m saying. Whatever it is, it spurs him on more. My fingers pull at the threads of the carpet on the stairs, undoubtedly pulling chunks out as well, while Joel’s fingers speed and supply more pressure. Something snaps inside me. I scream as I let go. Joel grunts as my pussy throbs around him, and continues working me through my climax.

When I come down my body sags against the harsh angles of the stairs. The only thing keeping my hips from the ground is Joel’s hand wrapped around my waist. I can tell he’s close. His thrusts become sloppier as he moans louder with each one. I feel him pulse inside me and he grunts.

He quickly pulls out and turns my body around on the stairs. Joel’s hands grab the front of the shirt I’m wearing, his shirt I stole off the bedroom floor this morning, and yank it open. Buttons clatter along the walls and railing of the stairs as they fly away.

With my chest and stomach exposed to the open air, Joel brings his hand to his cock. He pulls it rapidly. I watch him through hooded eyes while he moans. His eyes wander over my figure splayed out in front of him. Once he looks up to see my face he lets go with a loud growl. His seed decorates my body in ribbons, continuing to pump his length until he has no more left to give.

He grabs the wall with one hand and the railing with another as he breathes heavily with his head hung. I commit the sight to memory, certain that this is what all the greatest painters in history saw when they decided to capture the beauty of man.

His breathing begins to slow down when he opens his eyes again. He brings them up to me and remains frozen as I trail one hand down to the mess he’s left on my skin. I collect his spend on my fingers and lock eyes with him as I bring it up to my mouth and suck my fingers dry. He looks about ready to collapse from the sight alone.

When I pull my fingers from my lips he leans down and kisses me gently. His tongue licks along my bottom lip before slipping inside my mouth. As he pulls away a string of saliva connects us and then splits, seeking in the coarse hairs of his beard.

He stands up first, pulling his pants back up, and then helps me back to my feet. Joel pulls my leggings and underwear back up for me as I wobble on my legs. I keep my grip on the railing so I don’t fall. Over half the buttons on the shirt I was wearing are now hidden in the carpet of the stairs, so it remains open while I attempt to climb back up the stairs. Joel lets me try for a minute before picking me up and carrying me to bed for a nap.

To read more visit a03.

#pedro pascal #smut #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller smut #a03 fanfic #a03 writer #joel smut #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #wip #pedrostories #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

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barefoot-joker · 7 months

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Put a Ring on It~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! Welcome back to another Yandere!Lucifer fanfiction. I went a bit of a different route than I normally do, so bear with me. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2438

Warnings: Kidnapping, Unorthodox way of getting a partner

I hummed as I walked about the antique store, dusting some of the cases. Today was a bit of a slower day so I tried to find things to occupy my time with. I had already swept, cleaned the windows and moved some items around so dusting everything was my next option. My coworker Jessica meanwhile sat behind the counter polishing some of the glassware our store had to offer. “And so then he got down on one knee and proposed to her in front of the whole restaurant! Can you believe it?”

“And you and your boyfriend were just sitting there and watching?”

“Yeah. It was so romantic, Y/n!”

“It sounds like it was. Were you dropping hints to your man at that moment?”

“Well of course! We’ve been together for six years for crying out loud!”

I chuckled and began dusting one of the jewelry cases. “So how about you, Y/n? Anybody in your life?”

“No, unfortunately. Love isn’t really up my alley right now.”

“I get it.”

Ding! The bell above our front door went off.

Jessica and I both turned our heads towards the door to see an older woman standing there. She was in a red floor length dress and had a grayish brown fur shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She looked on the wealthier side not only because of her clothes but because of all the jewelry she had on. Rings decorated each of her fingers and pearl and gold necklaces draped around her front. She looked around and then spotted us. “Excuse me. Is Sarah in?”

“No, the owner isn’t in, unfortunately. What can we do for you,” Jessica replied.

The woman walked over and set a dark red velvet bag on the glass case. Opening it, she pulled out a gorgeous gold ring that looked like a snake wrapped around a medium sized ruby. The cut of the gem made it appear like an apple. “I was looking to sell this piece of jewelry. I no longer need it in my collection.”

The woman kept glancing around the store, almost like she was paranoid someone was following her. “It’s very beautiful, ma’am. How much were you looking to get?”

“It doesn’t matter. What’s your best offer, sweetie?”

Now that surprised me. I would have thought the woman would have asked for quite the chunk of change considering her appearance, but hey, this job still surprises me sometimes. “We’ll have to look at it and check out if it’s real gold or not. Plus we’ll need to check the karat of ruby you got.”

“You know what, nevermind. Just keep it, sell it, I don’t care!”

Suddenly the woman bolted out of the store despite Jessica and my protests. The slam of the door shook us out of our shock. “What was her problem? It would have only taken us a minute or two to evaluate the ring.”

“I think she had a lot more going on then we could have helped her with, Y/n.”

I hummed. Jessica picked up the ring and twirled it in her fingers. “It is quite the beautiful piece. The old gal could have probably gotten $200 for it. Oh well. You better clean it up and put it in the case. I’ll be on my lunch break.”

“You got it.”

Jessica stood from her perch and went into the back room as I placed the duster back in its proper place. Grabbing some jewelry cleaner and a rag, I picked up the ring and began to clean it. As I rubbed it down and made it shiny the more I felt drawn to it. It was almost like a small voice in my head was telling me to try it on. Eh, it couldn’t hurt could it?

Slipping it onto my ring finger, I admired it by the sunlight coming through the front window. It was quite the stunning piece with the ruby becoming slightly transparent and the gold of the snake shining. “Okay, that’s enough.”

I went to pull off the ring but surprisingly it wouldn’t give. Confused, I pulled again, only to grit my teeth when the ring felt like it tightened. “What gives?”

I pulled at it once more but pulled back when it felt like a fire from Hell grazed my fingertips. “Ow!”

I sighed and stared at the ring, the snake seemingly winking at me. “You’re coming off whether you like it or not.”

Heading into the bathroom, I splashed my hands with hot water before grabbing some soap. Scrubbing my ring finger, I pulled and pulled at the stupid piece of jewelry but it would not come off. I kept at it until my finger was bright red from how hard I was pulling. “Y/n, are you okay?”

I turned to see Jessica behind me, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “I’m fine. It's just this ring won’t come off!”

I showed her my hand and the brunette tutted. “It looks like it’s jammed on there real good. I see you tried soap and water but to no avail. Have you tried oil yet?”

“No.”

“Well I seem to remember there was some vegetable oil in the break room if you want to try that. What made you try it on anyway?”

“I figured since we try jewelry on all the time it wouldn’t hurt. I guess I was mistaken this time around.”

“Just go try the oil and I’ll Google if there’s anything else we can do.”

“Okay.”

I dried my hands on the towel and then made my way to the break room. I opened all of the cupboards until I found the bottle of vegetable oil. Opening the cap, I splashed some onto the ring and around the finger before I began to rub. I did this for a few minutes and then attempted to pull again. Once again the snake tightened and it felt hot to the touch. I growled in frustration and pulled a few more times. Getting nowhere, I put the container of oil back and slammed the cupboard shut. I went over to the sink and rinsed off the excess oil before returning to Jessica in the main room. “Did you find anything useful?”

“No, but listen to this. I just did a general search on the ring and found an interesting article. Apparently a ring just like yours was said to have been crafted back in the Renaissance. A rich man was trying to court a young woman but she would have nothing to do with him. Summoning the Devil, the man and Lucifer made a deal that at the next masquerade ball the man would have the young woman. The Devil then crafted a ring and said that is what the man will propose with. If the woman denied his affections then she would become Lucifer’s. At the ball the woman denied the man’s affections and right then and there, the horned demon took her. It is said that whoever puts the ring on next will belong to Satan himself.”

“And where was this article found?”

“Somebody posted it on Reddit.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop trying to scare me with fairy tales. I’m already anxious that the stupid thing won’t come off.”

“Yeah, but can you imagine Y/n? You might now be the Devil’s next wife!”

We looked at each other deeply before we both burst into a fit of giggles. “OMG as if that article is true, am I right?”

I laughed. There was no way it could be true…right?

Jessica came up to me and spun me around in a twirl. “We’d better look for your wedding gown while we’re here. We wouldn’t want Lucifer to be disappointed would we?”

“No, we wouldn’t.”

We giggled as we ran around the store finding all the pieces to make me the perfect bride. When we finished, we stood by the full length mirror. I held the white gown up to my chest and Jessica draped a veil over the top of my head. “Look at you! I’d say Lucifer is one lucky man!”

“You think so?”

“Oh I know so! So you couldn’t catch a human’s romantic affections but hey you got the Big Boss of Hell on your side!”

I set the dress down and the two of us began to dance. Jessica hummed a tune as we waltzed through the store, laughing the whole time. “Okay, okay. We’d better get back to work.”

I pulled the veil off and picked the dress back up. Returning them to their spots, Jessica and I continued our work day.

Later that night, Jessica and I were finishing locking up. The brunette clicked the door shut and turned the key. Pulling out the key, she turned to me. “I hope you have a good night, Y/n. And if the Devil does end up marrying you, don’t forget to send me an invite.”

“Will do. Have a good night, Jessica.”

The two of us waved at each other before heading off in opposite directions. The night was slightly busy as several cars drove on the road and people were out and about. As I was walking down a quieter street, I heard a slight humming. Curious, I looked around and couldn’t find anything that created the noise. I ignored and kept walking. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see bright golden specks fly up around me. Probably just fireflies.

Suddenly I couldn’t feel the ground below me and I was free falling. I screamed and quickly closed my eyes, my limbs sort of flying about. Just as sudden as I started falling, I stopped. The air in my lungs flew out as I sat on the hard ground and slowly but surely I opened my eyes. I gasped as my surroundings were completely different. I appeared to be in a hallway, red and light red striped wallpaper with white filigree decorated the walls, golden lights hung from the walls, and a red carpet lay atop the dark reddish floorboards. “There you are!”

My head snapped in front of me and my eyes widened. A small demon with a pointed tail and suit stood in front of me, his yellow eyes staring me down. “We’ve been wondering when you’d arrive, Miss. Please, come with me.”

I stood and backed away from the creature. “W-where am I? How’d I get here? Who are you?”

“All questions will be answered in due time, my lady. However, we need to get you ready. His Majesty will be here very soon and he’s expecting to see you.”

The demon grabbed onto my hand and led me down the corridor to a room on the right. We appeared to be in a walk-in closet of sorts as there were clothes hanging everywhere and a variety of dressers. The butler let go of my hand and had me sit at a vanity. The lights around the mirror were very bright so I found myself squinting. I watched as the little demon went to a couple of the different dressers, pulling out various things. He came to me a few moments later and stood behind me. Taking my hair in his claws, he petted it a few times before putting in a golden snake barrette. He repeated this action on the other side of my head. He then went to my neck and clicked a pearl necklace into place. Smoothing out the shirt I had on, the demon glanced over me before deciding I was fit enough. Grabbing my hand once more, the two of us walked down the hall and to a grand staircase. Going down to the first floor, he led me to a large room with two black thrones. The red eyes on the chairs stared me down as suddenly a poof of red smoke made a man sit on the left seat. He was on the shorter side and wore all white with a splash of red here and there. Our eyes locked onto each other and a big grin made its way to his lips. “Ah, darling! I’ve been waiting for you!”

The demon butler pushed me forwards and bowed. “Your Majesty. Will there be anything else you need?”

“No, but thank you, Dorian. Let us be.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

The little guy walked out of the room and with a click of the door, my heart began to pound loudly. I turned back to the blonde man and he motioned me forward. I gulped and went up the three steps to be near him. “I’ve been so excited to see you, my dear! Looking at you through a magic ball doesn’t do you justice.”

I could feel skin heat up at his comment. “Um, w-who are you?”

“How rude of me! Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell and your soon to be husband.”

I choked on my spit as he wiggled his eyebrows. “W-what?!”

“Oh did you not listen to your friend’s little story? We are to be wed, my dear.”

“I thought it was just some-”

“Fairy tale? Not at all! You slipped on my ring and are therefore mine. Oh, Dorian made you look so cute!”

I couldn’t believe it. Jessica’s story she read was real and I was going to be the Devil’s wife. Lucifer patted the throne next to him and I sat, still in shock. “Oh we’ve got so much to plan, sweetie! After all if we’re to be married next month-”

“Next month?! Are you crazy? I don’t even know you nor do I want to be in this situation!”

“It won’t be that bad, Y/n. We can get to know each other even after the wedding. Many couples get married and find love with each other after.”

“Look, I don’t want this. So you can just take your ring back and let me go home.”

I stood up and made my way down the stairs when suddenly I was flown back into Lucifer. He held me on his lap and nuzzled into me. “Ah, ah, ah! I can’t take the ring off even if I wanted to. It’s bound us together, you and I. Besides, you’re too cute to pass up.”

He booped my nose and I wanted to die right then and there. “I promise we’ll be happy together. I’m a very attentive lover and I can give you whatever you want. I am the Devil after all.”

He gave my cheek a kiss and all I could think of was Lord get me out of here.

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lilyarchived · 1 year

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behind closed doors [simon "ghost" riley]

a/n: URGH this idea literally came from a silly twitter picture, PLEASE SEND ASKS YOU CAN SEE HOW DESPERATE I AM FOR IDEAS!! Also thank you for the love on my first post, you guys are awesome!

warnings: gn! reader, reader has a breakdown, jealousy, cursing, angst (to fluff), 0.7k words.

summary: you overheard a conversation that included you, and it wasn't a positive talk.

"Ghost, please. leave me alone." you whimper as you walk away from your lieutenant just following behind you. “Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” he replies in that same old gruff voice since the day you met.

You were wandering through the base, having done all the tasks Price had assigned ya. Hearing a familiar deep voice in one of the rooms, you were about to enter but a flash of hesitation hit you once you heard your name. “[mumbled] and what [scrambled] about [scrambled] [Y/N]?” muttered soap, his voice an unserious tone. You gulp, wondering if the context was negative or positive. “What about them?” your heart drops, did he really think nothing of you? Of course not, you were overthinking, you assure yourself this was just ghost being ghost. “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and [mumbled] have something going on?” your smile reappears after soap’s suspicion. You were about to burst in, smiling, before hearing ghost’s voice once more. “What? No. There was never ‘anything’ between us.”

Oh. Tears blur your vision before hearing soap say “Ah. So you’re pretty serious about this one you’ve been talking to, huh?” You run away before your heart shatters even more.

“Don’t bullshit me Simon. I heard you in there with Johnny.” You finally turn around once you’re out in the training field, only this time it was empty. You’ve never seen it this empty. What a strange sight. You bring your hands up to your head, fuzzying your hair as you scoff and fold your arms, waiting for ghost to respond. He just looks at you with those same deadpanned eyes, only this time it was laced with a confused look. “What?” he voices in a hushed manner.

You could only fall to the rough ground as you broke down in an out-of-breath manner. Hearing Simon's footstep’s rummage through and leveling with you to hold you in his arms, his grasp tight as he hushes your cries.

“[Y/N], did you get those files i asked yo-” he barely got to finish his sentence before you dropped them at his hands and began to make your way out. “Gotta go, I'll see you later, Kyle.” you utter, quickly shutting the door behind you. “What’s up with them?” Simon asked Kyle, eyes wide with how the normally-clingy [Y/N] was now being avoidant. “You cannot be that fucking stupid, LT.” Kyle remarked. “What?” ghost asked, voice slightly raised now. Gaz scoffs, “You shit talked them to Soap, you think they wouldn’t find out?” he added. “I never said anythi- fuck. I wasn’t-” Kyle just raised an eyebrow, letting his lieutenant explain himself. “I was telling Johnny how much i like them.” Kyle drops his pen whilst smirking, clearly intrigued now. “Go after them, idiot!” he yells, as Simon bolts outside, in search of you.

And now here you were, in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. ‘How pathetic.’ you think. “Do I mean nothing to you? All those nights, those- stupid breaks I spent with you, getting to know you, nothing?” Simon’s heart aches as he hears your broken voice, feeling immense guilt creep up. “[Y/N], I was telling Johnny how I wanted to be with you.” your sobs quiet down, trying to process what he just said. “There’s no one else?” you whisper, silent cries slipping.

“Really? And what about that gyal you were talking to, Sarah? still want [Y/N]?” – “I don’t mean to pry ya, lad. Don’t you and Sarah have something going on?”

He was denying ever having ‘something’ with a different girl. It all seems foolishly funny now. You laugh through your tear stained cheeks as you punch Ghost on the chest playfully. "i hate you." your voice softer than before, if that were even possible. “It’s you, it’s always been you.” he explained, in that same old gruff voice since the day you met. Only this time, it held more emotion than ever.

#lily writes #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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spookyserenades · 8 months

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Fourteen (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; 22.3k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

HELLOOOO BESTIES!!! I'm so so so excited to share this update with you all. We've got the angst, the fluff, the feels, the conflict, and... SMUT! I've worked really hard on this update, and I'd love to know what you all think 🥺 Thank you for supporting me, sending me wonderful messages, and HAPPY ONE YEAR OF TROUVAILLE AHHHH!!!! 💕💕

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!

Much love from Dana, enjoy!!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek raw, gawking stupidly at Seokjin and Hannah tearfully embracing several feet away. The moment felt so private, so intimate, that every instinct in Y/N’s body was screaming at her to look away or bolt back to her car. Under the awkwardness she was feeling, itchy envy was crawling all over her skin, the sherpa coat she was wearing beginning to feel stiflingly hot.

She watched as Hannah gracefully touched her feet back to the ground, the cat hybrid’s hands frantically roaming over the front of Seokjin’s lavender puffer jacket, her light eyebrows pulled together, almost as if she was checking to make sure Seokjin was truly in front of her.

“You were bleeding…” Hannah murmured, Y/N realizing that she was probably trying to find lingering injuries from the Cirque Mystique incident many months ago. “I thought you were…”

Seokjin grasped at Hannah’s wrists gently to halt her hands from tracking all over his coat, a look of regret on his face as he began to recall the night of the tent fire, without a doubt.

“I didn’t know what happened to you, either,” Seokjin appeared to be squeezing Hannah’s wrists tightly, the two of them in their own little bubble.

“Han, sweetheart, why don’t we head inside? It’s freezing out here,” a young woman emerged from behind a silver SUV, approaching Hannah and Seokjin with a kind smile. Y/N assumed the woman must be Sarah, Hannah’s adoptive guardian, and upon her interruption of the moment between the two hybrids, Y/N regained the ability to move her limbs again.

“Oh, you’re right,” Hannah broke away from Seokjin sheepishly, burying her hands in the pockets of her peacoat. “Jinnie doesn’t like the cold, I got a little ahead of myself.”

Something about the way Hannah used the nickname “Jinnie” rubbed Y/N the wrong way, no matter how unfounded her jealousy seemed to be. Seokjin was always irked whenever Hoseok called him that, but he didn’t seem to mind it coming from Hannah’s mouth. Physically shaking the thought from her head by plastering a friendly expression on her face, she approached the three who appeared to have forgotten Y/N was even there.

“You must be Y/N! Nice to meet you,” Hannah was the first to spot Y/N after she delicately sniffed the air and turned to her, the cat hybrid brushing past Seokjin and surprisingly pulled Y/N into a hug. “Thank you for taking care of Jinnie!”

Y/N willed herself to not be stiff as a board, immediately hugging Hannah back as she was aware she was being watched by Sarah and Seokjin. Hannah smelled like spring flowers and fresh laundry, and her silky strawberry-blonde hair tickled Y/N’s chilled cheeks. She could feel Hannah purring with Y/N’s palms pressed to her upper back, Y/N certainly not expecting Hannah to react to her presence in this way. Perhaps Hannah could trace Seokjin’s scent lingering on her, even though it had been several months since Seokjin had last given her a bite.

“O-oh, don’t thank me, Hannah. I think most times, he takes care of me,” Y/N was embarrassed, Hannah pulling away with a chuckle. “It’s nice to finally meet you, too!”

“That’s Jinnie for you. Like a mother hen,” Hannah bit her lip, Y/N being unable to do anything but silently agree. “Let’s go inside before we have to defrost him!”

Y/N nodded quickly, peering over Hannah’s shoulder to see what Seokjin was doing– he was talking to Sarah shyly while blowing warm air into his fists.

“Come on, Jinnie,” Hannah skipped back to the jaguar hybrid, Y/N soaking in how tall and lithe Hannah was, looking like the perfect match for beautiful Seokjin.

When the cat hybrid hooked her hand around Seokjin’s elbow to lead him towards the entrance of the brewery, Y/N desperately hoped she wasn’t filling the parking lot with the scent of jealousy like toxic gas.

“Y/N, I’ve heard wonderful things from Ben Alpin. I’m so glad we could get these two together before we move,” Sarah began to walk in-stride with Y/N, trailing after the two hybrids in front of them. “Hannah was so excited, she hardly got any sleep last night.”

“Same for Seokjin. I think he must have texted me six different outfit options in the middle of the night,” Y/N glanced at Sarah, who appeared to be in her early thirties, closer to Hannah and Seokjin’s ages than her. She had curly brunette hair, shocking gray eyes, and a sort of confidence that she had only really seen Ben possessing before. Maybe it was a lawyer thing.

Y/N made small talk with Sarah from the time they walked into the brewery to when they were seated in a booth, not wanting to disturb the hybrid’s conversation. Y/N paused before the booth that the hostess led them to, not knowing where to sit until Seokjin promptly slid into the spot beside Hannah, Y/N’s heart in her throat. She tried not to look too weirded out when she took her seat across from her jaguar hybrid, who usually fought tooth and nail to get a spot beside her in any other scenario.

Though Seokjin had assured her that whatever romance he had with Hannah was long since over and done with, Y/N couldn’t help but analyze every single interaction between them with unease. She knew she was being ridiculous, possessive, and a bit selfish– for Christ’s sake, Seokjin didn’t even know how Y/N felt about him, but her emotions were impossible to rein in and control. Hannah was bubbly, funny, sweet, and absolutely gorgeous; freckles smattered across her cheekbones and button nose, a full, pretty mouth with a deep cupid’s bow, and her eyes were a paler version of Seokjin’s copper penny irises. It was impossible to not feel a little jealous of the cat hybrid.

“Have you been here before, Jinnie, Y/N? Any recommendations?” Hannah flipped through her menu, bottom lip between her teeth as she scanned it.

“We came here a little while ago, with the others and Y/N’s friend Alice,” Seokjin replied, his looking so pleased Y/N swore his cheeks were rosy with delight. “I like the soft pretzels, and the house burger was pretty good!”

All Y/N wanted was a fat pint of beer. She was going to need it if she was going to get through that lunch without having to excuse herself to the bathroom to have an anxiety barf.

“Y/N, you should get that citrusy beer again. You liked it so much last time,” Seokjin read her thoughts, Y/N feeling like strolling to the bar and opening her mouth under the nearest tap.

“Mm, that’s what I was thinking, too, honey,” Y/N murmured, gluing her eyes to her menu.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Salem’s, can I get you started on something to drink?” Their waiter appeared, and thankfully it was an older gentleman with a pot-belly, rather than handsome Lindsay-Buckingham-lookalike from last time.

With drink orders in place, Y/N opting to stay away from the beer flight lest she become drunk and bold by ordering a simple pint, she fished around in her brain for some kind of conversation topic that would occupy everyone until the beers arrived.

“So, Y/N, Jinnie told me that you used to work as a veterinarian, that’s how you knew how to treat his injuries,” Hannah broke the ice first, though it seemed that Y/N was the only one actually feeling the iciness. The other three at the table looked merry and at ease, and Y/N could only hope she didn’t look as rigid as she felt.

“Yeah, I was. Right before I adopted him, that same night, in fact, I took my leave from the hospital I was working at. I wasn’t sure at the time if the job was the right fit for me, so I wanted to take time to sort out my feelings…” Y/N rambled, Hannah’s pretty face open and kind as she nodded along to her words. “Seokjin wasn’t in too bad of shape, he had a fever that had spiked and a gash on his side, but both were treated quickly before he got an infection.”

“Hannah, weren’t you hurt too? That night…” Seokjin took the attention off of himself, a blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.

“I was fine. Just a sprained ankle, miraculously. The company was only going to let me take two nights off, and that’s when Donovan gave me Sarah’s card. I called her right away,” Hannah patted Seokjin’s shoulder fondly, using her free hand to gratefully accept her beer from Y/N across the table.

“Donovan?” Sarah cocked her head quizzically. Y/N wondered if Sarah was as much in the dark with her hybrid’s past as she was– with all seven of them, nonetheless.

“Donovan is one of the only members of the company that actually cared about us. Even though he worked there with ticketing, he always made sure that we had as many comforts as he could smuggle in for us. Extra blankets, food, books. He even got us an old TV with a stack of DVDs one time. He helped a couple of us out when we’d get injured, I guess he caught wind of your office and you in particular around the city, how you take on cases for hybrids free of cost,” Hannah’s fingers danced around the wooden table as she explained, before landing on top of Sarah’s hand and squeezing with a wistful smile.

“We owe him a lot,” Seokjin added quietly, tracing an index finger around the rim of his beer glass.

“I’d like to think our new lives, a chance at happiness, is repayment enough for him,” Hannah shook her head, Y/N once again feeling like she was intruding, the gravity of the conversation making her squirm in her seat. She took a steady gulp of her beer, and thankfully the waiter had returned to take their food orders.

“Hannah and I were thinking,” Sarah began after the waiter ambled away, stirring her gin cocktail with a little black straw. “Once we’re settled in New York, perhaps mid-spring, you and Seokjin can come to visit? There’s a hotel right by our new apartment, so please feel free to bring the rest of your family, too. Maybe we could go see some live music in the area, get good food? What do you think?”

Seokjin immediately made eye contact with Y/N, hope rounding out his sunset stare, and she felt everyone at the table waiting for her response. In all honesty, it was a nice idea– a little getaway would be a lot of fun for both her and the hybrids, and there was really no excuse to disappoint Seokjin by saying no. While she was certainly jealous of the close relationship between him and Hannah, it would be cruel to separate them indefinitely.

“That sounds like a great time! Maybe around the middle of April? I’d have to give notice to my boss, but I think a trip would be lots of fun,” Y/N perked up, thinking about all of the activities she could focus on during their vacation rather than the fact that she had a little green monster raging around in her stomach.

“April would definitely work! I should be settled in my new office, and Hannah will have her routine with the gymnastics team, as well, by then,” Sarah shaking Hannah’s hand excitedly, Y/N realizing that they had been holding hands for quite some time. The sight had her thinking about how Seokjin always threaded his fingers through hers, almost constantly.

“It’s settled, then. Can you send me the information about the hotel, please? I’ll book rooms as soon as I get the time off for the vacation,” Y/N couldn’t help but grin fondly at the way Seokjin and Hannah’s shared gleeful expressions, Hannah leaning her shoulder into Seokjin’s.

After a bit of discussion surrounding activities in the town Sarah and Hannah were planning to move to, the food arrived, Y/N giggling when Seokjin cut half of his steak to divide into three, delivering a slice to each woman at the table with a concentrated pout.

“See? What did I say? Mother hen,” Hannah remarked, popping a French fry into her mouth with a smirk. “I always used to say Jinnie’s love language was sharing his food.”

“You shouldn’t tease your friend when he has food in his mouth, Han,” Sarah scolded, but there was no real reproachfulness in her tone. Seokjin was in the middle of trying to wash down a piece of steak that got lodged in his throat with a swig of beer, taken off guard and apparently very embarrassed.

“Y/N and I are going to a cooking class next month,” Seokjin quickly changed the subject after he recovered, his eyes still slightly watering and ears pressed flat against his head.

“Really? That’s something you’ve wanted to do forever,” Hannah set down her burger, looking from the jaguar hybrid to Y/N, Seokjin furiously nodding.

“She got me tickets for my birthday,” Seokjin confirmed, now staring at Y/N with an expression on his face that had her heart racing. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Hannah casting a look at Y/N’s chest, one of her peachy triangular ears flickering. “One of the other hybrids we live with, Yoongi, has been teaching me some basic cooking skills.”

Y/N fumbled for her phone in her purse, preparing to show Sarah and Hannah some pictures of her other hybrids when they asked about them. Ben, evidently, hadn’t told Sarah exactly how many hybrids Y/N had adopted.

“Wow, Ben wasn’t joking! You’ve got a big family, here,” Sarah exclaimed, grinning at a picture of Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin feeding the chickens in the backyard– the rooster nipping at Hoseok’s heels and the other two pointing and laughing at the fox hybrid. “You all get along?”

“For the most part,” Seokjin answered honestly, dabbing his mouth with a napkin as he polished off the last of his entree. “Hannah, you’d like Hoseok. He’s a lot like you.”

“Oh, a clown?” Hannah cracked a self-deprecating joke, Seokjin rolling his eyes but nodding in response.

“Oof, that wolf hybrid… he’s a doll,” Hannah pointed at a picture of Namjoon Y/N had snapped of him outside by his van; wrapped up in a scarf with the tip of his nose pink from the cold and snowflakes dusting his hair and ears. Seokjin snorted, muttering under his breath.

“Joonie? Yeah, he’s handsome,” Y/N agreed without thinking, zooming into Namjoon’s face, able to make out tiny snowflakes clinging to his long eyelashes. “All of my boys are.”

Sarah and Hannah chuckled, Y/N handing over her phone to let the two of them scroll through her camera roll by themselves, returning to her meal with a warm feeling spreading in her chest. At that point, since the adoptions, she had well over a thousand pictures of all of the hybrids, and she had half a mind to get a bunch of them printed for a scrapbook.

The odd sensation of being watched washed over her suddenly, Y/N taking her attention off of the two with her phone to look for the source of it– finding Seokjin studying her carefully, appearing deep in thought. She smiled at him, tentatively, considering she wasn’t used to Seokjin eyeing her in such a serious way, and he snapped out of it quickly, grinning cutely back.

The four of them ordered another round of drinks after the entrees were cleared away, Y/N wanting the lunch to last a little longer than normal for Seokjin and Hannah’s sake. It would be a few months until they’d get to see each other again, Y/N taking a sip of her beer calmly as she noted the two hybrids exchanging phone numbers. Sarah was in the middle of sending Y/N all of the information she needed to book hotel rooms for her and her hybrids in April. Y/N supposed the issue of how many rooms she’d need to book and who would room with who would be a headache for much, much later.

“Let’s split some desserts! Want to share the lava cake, Y/N?” Hannah flipped through the small dessert menu, her speech a little loosened from the two pints of beer she had drank. Hannah was pretty slight, so apparently it didn’t take much for her to get tipsy.

“We got that last time,” Seokjin informed her, Y/N giggling at the way Hannah rolled her eyes at Seokjin. “I wanna try something else.”

“Then try something else. I was talking to Y/N,” Hannah slid the menu towards Y/N, a smirk on her face.

“I split it with you, Hannah. It was really good,” Y/N lightly nudged Seokjin with her foot under the table when he began pouting pathetically. “Get anything you want, honey, if there’s leftovers you can just bring it home for later.”

Y/N encouraged Seokjin to order whatever he wanted, Hannah snorting at how much Seokjin perked up after Y/N spoke. Y/N could see why she and Seokjin had become so close over the years; there were several similarities Y/N had noticed Hannah had to Hoseok, and that was likely why Seokjin was able to become such good friends with the fox hybrid right away. Y/N could even see Hannah fitting in well with her own friend group, with her, the Santos twins, and Ben… Y/N found the longer she sat in the booth and got to know the cat hybrid, the more she liked her. Whether or not that placated or heightened her jealousy, Y/N couldn’t decide.

“Keep in touch, until April, alright?” Sarah placed a friendly hand on Y/N’s forearm, as they stood outside of the brewery’s bathrooms. “I’m going to use the bathroom before we hit the road, can you stay with Hannah?”

Y/N nodded, comfortable enough to be alone with the cat hybrid by now, considering Seokjin had also disappeared to wash his hands in the men’s room. Y/N turned, lingering around the hostess’ booth with Hannah, the young woman already looking at her– in a similar way Seokjin was studying her earlier.

“This place is pretty good, huh? Isn’t that lava cake delicious?” Y/N began, Hannah nodding with a soft smile on her face. “It was really nice to meet you. Seokjin told me so many wonderful things.”

Hannah chuckled, though she still looked a little serious, her shoulders squared with importance. Y/N could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket with several texts, but ignored them once she realized that Hannah had something to say, unease curling in her gut.

“Y/N, I want to thank you again for taking care of Seokjin. He seems really happy with you,” Hannah took up one of Y/N’s hands, her skin like warm silk. “I should tell you though. He has a soft heart, please be careful with it.”

Y/N blinked stupidly, torn between being offended and grateful. Hopefully masking those emotions, Y/N simply nodded, wondering if it was obvious to Hannah how Y/N felt about Seokjin.

“Seokjin had a lot of… um, incidents with fans of the circus. People who claimed to love him, bringing him gifts, making him promises. He was always let down in the end. It chipped away at his confidence, I think. I’m not saying you’re like that, but I don’t know if he’ll survive another heartbreak.”

Y/N felt the smile melt from her face, soaking in what Hannah had to say with nausea beginning to take over. She didn’t even know what to say in response to that, and Hannah’s expression was guarded as she caught the agitation coming off of Y/N in waves.

“I’d never… treat him like that. Seokjin is safe with me,” Y/N composed herself, understanding where Hannah was coming from, and all at once feeling sad for Seokjin. “I care about him, about all of my boys, more than anything.”

Hannah’s guarded expression softened a tad, hearing the fierce sincerity in Y/N’s words, squeezing her hand once before letting go.

“Thank you. I believe you,” Hannah murmured, Y/N nodding once and trying to steady her galloping heartbeat. “You’re a good person, Y/N.”

With that, Hannah looked over Y/N’s shoulder, a blush forming over her cheeks as she gave Y/N one last hand squeeze, Sarah returning from the bathroom wrapped up in her coat and scarf. The fondness that she’d sometimes see lighting up her own hybrid’s faces was mirrored in Hannah’s expression when the cat hybrid saw Sarah, which had Y/N forgiving her for being so forward with her. Truthfully, she was just trying to be protective of Seokjin, in her own way, and Y/N couldn’t be too upset with Hannah just for that.

Seokjin appeared moments later, and Y/N was confident he didn’t hear her and Hannah’s conversation considering he was in sky-high spirits, zipping Y/N’s coat for her with a grin and making sure the collar covered up the vulnerable skin of her throat.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the four of them were saying their goodbyes, Sarah leaving to warm up the car while Seokjin and Hannah shared their last few moments together. Similarly, after bidding Hannah a goodbye, Y/N made somewhat of a beeline to her car to avoid watching the two hybrids emotionally embrace again, grumbling at the way her phone was blowing up in her pocket. Once in the icy cab of her car, jacking up the heat all the way, she fumbled for the device, squeaking at the messages crowding her screen.

Before she could check to see who was trying to reach her so desperately, her phone started ringing– and it was her boss, Judy, who never typically bothered her on a day off. Promptly, she picked up, keeping an eye on the blur of lavender making up Seokjin’s coat.

“Hi, Judy, is everything alright?” Y/N cleared her throat, which was rather dry after the interaction with Hannah.

“Everything’s fine, dear, I was just checking up on you. About your decision, have you talked to your two hybrids about doing the investigations and cleansings?”

Shit. Between everything with Yoongi and tip-toeing around, finally solidifying that day’s plan at the brewery, and the holidays, she had forgotten to ask Namjoon and Jeongguk about how they’d feel about making a little cash on the side with her. Exhaling slowly, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry, Judy, I haven’t gotten around to it yet. The holidays were a little overwhelming. I can talk to them this evening, though.”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Our holiday season this year was quite busy, as well… relatives coming from all corners of the country. I’m only asking, however, because there’s a young mother who has contacted me about an entity in her home, bothering her children. She’s desperate for a consultation, and I think that you’d be able to help her.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling her phone vibrate against her cheek with yet another message, starting to worry there was some kind of emergency back at home.

“Oh, I’ll talk to them tonight, then. When I come in on Monday, I’ll hopefully be bringing good news,” Y/N conceded, feeling bad that she hadn’t given that conversation with Namjoon and Jeongguk too much priority. “If there’s children involved, I want to be able to help right away.”

“Alright, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, I’ll forward you the mother’s email that was sent to me.”

Hanging up, Y/N thought about how to round up Namjoon and Jeongguk and try to convince the latter to break away from his free time enough to travel around the state with her and Namjoon. Sighing, she opened her messages with her eyes squeezed shut, thankful for the long-winded goodbye Seokjin and Hannah were in the middle of.

Yoongi 👼🏻: We’re going to have to talk, soon

Yoongi 👼🏻: Sweetheart… I think some of them are starting to figure it out

Yoongi 👼🏻: Namjoon won’t let me out of his sight. I think he can smell you on me or something

Yoongi 👼🏻: Tonight, you and I have to talk, music room. Midnight

Yoongi 👼🏻: We’ll figure it out together, we can’t hide it from them forever

Yoongi 👼🏻: You can’t hide from them forever, either

Y/N felt the bile that was already boiling in her stomach from earlier rise to her throat, picturing Namjoon’s wrath, the idea of having to break the news of her and Yoongi’s relationship to her other six housemates, and dealing with the aftermath of that. So caught up in possibility, Y/N swore loudly when Seokjin yanked the car door open and hauled himself inside, pressing a hand over her chest.

“Whoa, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Seokjin panicked, hands shooting out to cup Y/N’s face with urgent, concerned hands. In consequence, Y/N’s phone clattered to the floor mat, and thankfully it was locked when Seokjin freed one of her cheeks to scoop it up for her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just startled by the noise, that’s all,” Y/N replied a bit breathily, leaning into Seokjin’s palm heavily, breathing in his eucalyptus body wash in order to soothe herself. “Sorry.”

“Please,” Seokjin scoffed, tucking hair behind her ear and rolling his eyes. “You know how I am with loud noises. If anyone gets it, it's me.”

With that, Seokjin pulled Y/N in for a hug across the center console of the cab, using a hand on the back of her head to direct her winter-chilled face into the crook of his neck. Heartbeat stuttering a few beats, she felt herself go limp in his strong arms, worries dissolving into nothing as he held her tightly.

“Thanks for arranging the meet for today. Hannah really likes you,” Seokjin mumbled into her hair quietly, Y/N able to feel the upturned corners of his mouth pressed into the tresses. “Just like I thought she would!”

“I like her too. She does remind me of Foxy, a little bit,” Y/N admitted, trying her best not to let her lips brush against Seokjin’s throat, though she had been harboring a desire recently to sink her teeth into the strong expanse of it. “April will be here before you know it, and we’ll get to visit her.”

“Mmph,” Seokjin returned noncommittally with his lips buried in her hair, tightening his hold on Y/N.

“What was that, honey?” Y/N giggled, pulling her face out of Seokjin’s neck, mouth still slightly watering with the idea of biting marks into his flesh. “Aren’t you excited to take a trip?”

Seokjin made a sad little purr when she maneuvered herself out of his arms, the bright color of his irises flashing once she leaned across the cab to buckle him into his seat securely. With a click, he was belted in, Y/N booping his nose that was still cool from the outside air.

“Yeah, but I think I’ll probably miss home while we’re gone,” Seokjin admitted quietly, surprising Y/N as she backed out of her space and threw the car in drive. “I never really liked traveling.”

Y/N processed that statement, thinking about how Seokjin had been dragged from coast to coast for years. It was likely that he enjoyed having some roots in place after essentially being a vagabond, and that was yet another similarity between him and Hoseok.

“We’ll make it fun, I swear. I’ll rent some kind of camper van that we can drive up, we can get greasy breakfast sandwiches, make a road trip playlist…” Y/N thought aloud, picturing Namjoon in the passenger seat with an old-fashioned map, Jimin passing out snacks to everyone with his bright smile, and the eight of them crammed into a camper.

“Why don’t we take Namjoon’s van?” Seokjin suggested, capturing Y/N’s right hand as soon as she moved it off of the gear shift, his palm warm despite being outside for quite a while.

“It’s not big enough to fit all of us, and besides, there are about a hundred books in there. I’m not sure how Joonie and Jeongguk even hang out in there together, there’s nowhere to sit,” Y/N felt Seokjin lace his fingers with hers, the jaguar hybrid humming in acknowledgement. “Regardless, we’ll have a good time.”

“As long as I’m with you, it’ll be okay,” Seokjin sighed, squeezing her fingers gently. Y/N stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, a tiny smile on his lips as he gazed out of his window, Y/N’s heart threatening to break through her ribcage.

“What, no take out for me?” Hoseok opened the door for her and Seokjin, a deep frown on his face once he realized Y/N wasn’t holding any bags.

“No, Yoongi is making chili tonight. Pub food doesn’t travel well, anyways,” Y/N shrugged off her coat while kicking off her shoes, using Hoseok’s shoulder to balance while he grumbled. Y/N knew that he was just pretending to be annoyed, judging by the merry sway of his tail. “How was your afternoon, Foxy?”

“God, you’re calling me that now, too?” Hoseok narrowed his eyes, Seokjin snickering while he hung his and Y/N’s coat in the closet.

“What? I think it’s cute,” Y/N replied, poking one of the little dimples above the corners of his mouth when his lips were flattened into a line. “Are Joonie and Jeongguk outside? I have something to discuss with them.”

“Yeah, they’re in the van. Probably talking about bigfoot or some shit,” Hoseok said, Seokjin’s snickers turning into full-blown squeaky laughter, Y/N dragging both of them into the kitchen where Yoongi was dutifully chopping celery.

At the sight of him, Y/N’s chest squeezed, sensing his stress simply by noting how his shoulders were tensed up. She wasn’t looking forward to their chat at midnight, but at least she’d have some alone time with him. Promptly, Seokjin reached for his set of knives on the counter, Yoongi pointing to an onion for the jaguar hybrid to chop. After Y/N gave Yoongi a quick cheek kiss to greet him, she shuffled outside in her slides, ignoring Seokjin’s complaints that she wasn’t wearing a coat.

In the driveway, she could see exhaust coming from the tailpipe of the van, Y/N skipping up to the side door and knocking three times. In two seconds flat, Jeongguk cracked open the door, hissing as he yanked Y/N into the toasty van with his hand wrapped around her wrist. There were old reruns of The X-files playing on Namjoon’s tiny little TV, and there were snack-sized bags of chips littered all around.

“Are you fucking crazy? It’s like 20 degrees outside,” Jeongguk scolded, Y/N smacking his hand off of her wrist with an eye roll.

“Says the one in a tee shirt,” Y/N shot back, glaring at the Metallica concert tee he was wearing with disapproval. “Nice to see you, too. Hi Joonie!”

Namjoon was seated in one of the only spots free of books and tapes, the booth by the kitchenette, appearing startled that she swung by to talk to them. He offered her a wave, setting the pen he was using down and straightening up from his slouchy position.

“So, you met up with Seokjin’s girlfriend?” Jeongguk returned to his own seat across from Namjoon after he took a disinterested sniff in Y/N’s direction. Irked, Y/N used her foot to push Jeongguk further into the booth, plopping down beside him.

“Ex-girlfriend,” Y/N corrected, Namjoon lifting an eyebrow at her and leaning back in the booth. “What are you two up to? Is this the headquarters for a secret club?”

“The wolf has a pretty decent collection of books about the occult and shit. Got nothing better to do,” Jeongguk shrugged, fiddling with the sword pendant around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have something to ask you, brat,” Y/N seethed, the elk hybrid’s attitude not a very good indication that he’d be willing to hang out with her more than necessary. “I have a proposition.”

Namjoon’s ear flickered, leaning forward on his forearms so he could listen closely. His gaze lingered on her throat, where the necklace he had given her was still clasped around securely.

“The answer’s no,” Jeongguk smirked lazily when Y/N stared daggers at him, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. “What do you want?”

“My boss, Judy, remember her? She actually offered me a new opportunity, I’ll end up making more money and doing things that don’t require me to sit on a stool all day bored out of my mind,” Y/N began, eyes on the paper Namjoon was writing on– he must have been taking notes from the book she had gotten for him on his birthday, judging by the occultish doodles amongst his notes.

“You’re asking for career advice?” Namjoon asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Well, let me finish, Joon,” Y/N chuckled, teasingly nudging his shin under the table. “Basically, she wants me to take over the consultations and cleansings for customers who come in and have issues with the paranormal. She asked me if you two would be interested in helping me with that, and you’d get paid, too.”

Namjoon froze, before his expression dissolved into pure excitement, something Y/N hardly ever saw on his face unless there was some kind of pastry in front of him. Like she predicted, Namjoon seemed to be totally on board, the van filled with the sound of his tail thumping against the cloth booth they were crammed into.

“So… we’d go to work with you?” Namjoon inquired, gripping the table with white knuckles and stars in his eyes. “Three times a week?”

“Well, no, just when we’d have cases to work on. I suppose I could talk to Judy about you coming with me during my regular hours, though, you could help me shelve inventory if you want,” Y/N replied, noting that Jeongguk had yet to offer any sort of response. “What do you think?”

“Jeongguk, it’s like what you did before, with that investigation team,” Namjoon pointed out, Jeongguk drumming his fingers against the table contemplatively. “You were just complaining that you had nothing better to do.”

Jeongguk looked from the wolf hybrid to Y/N, both staring at him expectantly, Y/N unable to decipher exactly what he was thinking due to the blank look on his face.

“I need more information before I agree to anything,” Jeongguk cleared his throat, angling his body so he could face Y/N better, scratching one of his tapered ears with a grimace.

“Sure. Judy said we could pretty much run the whole ‘operation’ however we wanted. We’d probably take the car from house to house, do the consultations with the client, and then brainstorm together to make a tentative plan for cleansings. Anything we’d need for rituals we could get from the shop,” Y/N felt the van rock as Namjoon squirmed in his seat.

“Don’t you think we’d need to do an investigation before we’d be able to come up with how to get rid of the haunting?” Jeongguk asked in an almost condescending manner, Y/N sucking her teeth in annoyance.

“Thought that went without saying, but yeah. I figured that’s the part you’d be the most interested in, with your new camera, your experience, and all that,” Y/N kept her cool, concluding if Jeongguk didn’t want to help, she’d still have Namjoon. “Joon, you have a wealth of knowledge, too, and all these books to consult. I think the three of us make a good team, and we’d be helping people.”

Namjoon stood, beginning to pace around the tiny van with his hands on his hips.

“Let’s say after a consultation, we have a night where we investigate the property with the client elsewhere. After the investigation, we review findings, come up with a plan on how to best correct the situation, and then we execute it within the home,” Namjoon thought aloud, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater as he paced. “As for transport. Let’s use this van. It’ll be easier to transport equipment and tools, and be more comfortable for longer trips.”

“Whoa, wolf. You’re serious about this?” Jeongguk gaped, and Namjoon looked deathly serious in response, so the elk hybrid changed tactics by addressing Y/N. “I don’t know, kiddo. Aren’t you worried about things that might attach themselves to you again? We just got rid of that hag.”

Both Jeongguk’s concern for her and the nickname he had begun to use on her every once in a while had Y/N nearly swooning into his lap beside her, but she managed to keep it together somehow by biting down hard on the inside of her cheek.

“I’ve been on top of my protection magic lately, you know that,” Y/N nudged Jeongguk’s shoulder with her own, significantly softened after his display of concern. “Whatever happens, I know we can handle it. We’re like the supernatural dream team!”

With that, Jeongguk scoffed with a head shake, but the way his frame sagged Y/N knew that he was moments away from giving in.

“Fuck it, let’s do it,” Jeongguk put his head in his hands, Y/N excitedly grabbing one of his forearms and shaking it in triumph. “I’m not starting a fucking podcast with you two, though.”

“Of course not. The world needs less podcasters anyways,” Y/N snorted, getting up from the booth with a grin. “We already have a ‘case’, Judy’s sending me the woman’s email with the complaint. I’ll keep you two updated and I’ll find out more on Monday.”

“You’re leaving?” Namjoon halted her by the door, and Y/N could have sworn there was a whisper of disappointment in the downturned corners of his full mouth.

“Ah, yeah. I want to shower before I have my call with the twins,” Y/N became sheepish, shriveling up under the weight of the wolf hybrid’s gaze. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Joon, okay? Thank you two for being on board with this, too. I think we’ll learn a lot from one another, maybe even have some fun!”

“Unless The Nun comes for you,” Jeongguk drawled sarcastically, yanking one of the van windows open so he could light up a cigarette already poised between his lips.

Giving him the finger, Y/N smiled warmly at Namjoon as she exited the vehicle. Both optimistic and excited to be able to spend quality time with her two more bristly hybrids, she hurried inside before she could totally freeze to death.

Yoongi wasn’t in the kitchen anymore, nor was Seokjin or Hoseok, but the chili simmering away on the smelled heavenly and had Y/N’s mouth watering, even if she was still full from her lunch with Seokjin. She tried not to pout too much that nobody was looking for her on the way to her bedroom, and with that, Y/N wondered if she was becoming too codependent; and further, she wondered why she didn’t give a shit if she was.

Y/N found herself waiting around for midnight that night so she could have her secret meeting with Yoongi, and because it was only a Wednesday, her and the hybrids took it easy with the nightly cocktails– so she was waiting anxiously and fully sober. By 11 PM, she was practically vibrating, gnawing on her nails until they were jagged and unsightly, and she decided to just crawl up to the music room and wait for Yoongi.

Everyone else had gone to bed already, between those who had sports the next day, and Jimin so he could get up early for the animals. Y/N wasn’t worried about bumping into anyone, but she still felt like she was creeping around like an intruder. Once she was up the stairs, her mouth dropped open in surprise seeing light spill from the threshold of Seokjin’s bedroom door. Unfortunately for her, on her way to the music room, Seokjin must have caught her scent, his door creaking open and his head popping out into the hallway.

“What are you still doing up?” Seokjin whispered into the air, Y/N having no choice but to let Seokjin usher her into his bedroom, the soft pink walls lit up with gentle lamplight.

“Oh, I just felt like listening to some records before I go to bed. I haven’t tested out the new system yet,” Y/N fibbed, Seokjin easily buying the lie and tugging her further into his bedroom.

Getting a good look around, she breathed in the familiar scent of Seokjin’s body wash perfuming the room, a neat collection of books from the library book club lined up on his dresser, folded laundry sitting on the chair by the window, and his stuffed alpaca sitting on his bed. It looked like she caught Seokjin while he was reading in bed, The Silmarillion sitting on his pillow and the pink quilt pulled back.

“You can’t sleep?” Seokjin questioned further, manhandling Y/N by her shoulders and getting her to sit on his bed. He was purring, the sound deeper than normal, and Y/N noticed a sort of wicked gleam in his vibrant eyes.

“No, that’s not it,” Y/N breathed, Seokjin looking unfairly amazing in just a pair of plaid pajama pants and a simple white tee shirt. “Just not ready for bed y-yet.”

Y/N stuttered when Seokjin sat beside her, his tail automatically wrapping around her waist possessively and his expression growing more dangerous by the second– like he was going to eat her alive.

“I liked the dress you wore today,” Seokjin leaned back on his palms, dragging his eyes up and down her frame. “Pretty.”

“Um, thank you?” Y/N had no idea what was going on, stiff as a board sitting on the edge of Seokjin’s bed, while he toyed with her emotions. “Guess you like the color pink, huh?”

Giggling nervously, Y/N forgot all about meeting Yoongi in the music room, getting lost in Seokjin’s heady gaze, his tail curling lazily behind him. Desperate to escape his scrutiny, she scrambled to find something to talk about, fisting her hands in his quilt.

“Wow, you’re a-already on The Silmarillion? How did you like the original trilogy? We should watch the movies together soon–”

“Y/N,” Seokjin purred, using a fingertip to trace a line up the inside of her wrist, watching with interest as goosebumps followed his path. Before she could squeak in response, Seokjin pounced, knocking the wind out of her as she was pinned to his mattress in the blink of an eye.

“Oof–” Y/N wheezed, eyes wide as she processed what was happening, hands scrabbling on the quilt as she registered Seokjin’s knees framing her thighs, keeping her put as he stared down at her hungrily. “Jin!”

A low growl came from the back of his throat as Y/N whimpered out his nickname, an elbow coming down beside her shoulder so he could bring his face closer to hers, his minty breath washing over her face as she stared at him owlishly. Regaining some of her motor functions, her hands grasped onto his broad shoulders, preparing to push him away before she lost all sense and kissed him, but as if he sensed this, Seokjin swiftly grasped her wrists in one of his hands. Tutting, he held her wrists above her head easily, his eyes becoming lidded as Y/N’s heart began pumping frantically. Then, as he was using his free hand to graze his fingertips under her jawline, it dawned on Y/N.

Unable to break free from the ironclad grip on her wrists, Y/N could only watch Seokjin above her, his cheeks flushed and his mouth slightly parted, adrenaline coursing through her veins as he settled his weight on top of her. The way his hips were flush with hers had a strike of white-hot heat flashing over her skin, but Seokjin didn’t seem to notice as his thumb traced over her pulse point, a satisfied look on his face as he felt it racing under his touch.

Last time Seokjin scented her– the first and only time– he was overcome with a fever, desperate, and shaky. This time, he was coiled, predatory, and dangerous, Y/N’s breath coming out in pants as he assessed how quickly he reduced her into a mess. Suddenly, his face was in the crook of her neck, Y/N squealing when she felt Seokjin lick a graphically long stripe up the side of her neck, his lips bending into a smile at the sound.

“Smells so good,” Seokjin mumbled, nudging his nose along the dampened flesh, his tail thrashing behind him as he soaked in her scent, his chest rumbling with purrs as he kept her pinned to the mattress. “Pretty girl.”

Y/N’s half-closed eyes shot wide open, her stomach flipping over at the growled pet name, her captured hands aching to reach out and touch the jaguar hybrid. Mouthing at her throat, Seokjin’s tongue periodically swiped at her pulse point, Y/N’s eyes rolling into the back of her skull as she prayed she wasn’t filling the room with the scent of her arousal. It was difficult not to arch into him, and distantly she was grateful that he was keeping her pinned down.

“Stay still for me, pretty, okay?” Seokjin whispered into her ear, his voice thickened with honey, Y/N squeezing her eyes shut and going absolutely still obediently, egged on by the pet name.

With a gentle kiss to her throat, Seokjin bared his teeth, swiftly sinking them into his chosen spot with a hum. Y/N felt the edges of her vision go fuzzy, not even feeling the pain of his incisors in her neck, instead focusing on the way Seokjin’s grip on her wrists tightened, his other hand bracing his weight beside her face.

Floating to the ceiling, Seokjin pulled his teeth from the mark, loopiness taking over Y/N as the jaguar hybrid cauterized the wound, catching stray droplets of blood with his tongue. Finally, he let go of her wrists, Y/N immediately diving her fingertips into Seokjin’s hair, the jaguar hybrid purring loudly at the sensation. With him still very much on top of her, Y/N didn’t move an inch. If it weren’t for the fact that she still had to talk to Yoongi at any moment, she probably would have gone to sleep with a smile and the jaguar hybrid laying on top of her like a weighted blanket.

Nuzzling his face into her neck, he gave the bite one last goofily loud peck, making Y/N giggle deliriously. Wrapping his arms around her middle, Seokjin rolled sideways with Y/N pressed to his chest, and Y/N couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in her chest due to the post-scent haze.

Pulling away a few inches, Seokjin’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he watched her dissolve into hysterics, cupping her face like he did earlier that day, and to Y/N’s astonishment, began planting loud kisses all over her face, heightening her delight. Seokjin was affectionate, but never to that degree, and once again she felt herself growing shy under all of the attention.

“Aw, look at you. Blushing,” Seokjin cooed after placing one last kiss on the tip of her nose, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sorry if I caught you off guard. I needed you to smell like me again.”

Blinking, Y/N watched Seokjin become bashful, scratching the back of his neck as he helped Y/N sit up, one of his arms still hooked around her waist securely.

“What do you mean, honey?” Y/N felt like she had cotton stuffed in her mouth, leaning into Seokjin as he smoothed her hair back into place.

“My scent on you. It was almost completely faded, so I would have had to do that soon anyways, but I wanted to get rid of what’s left of Hannah’s scent from earlier today that was still clinging to you,” Seokjin explained, Y/N’s mouth dropping open.

“Oh,” Y/N blurted, Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound. “Why?”

With this, Seokjin frowned, ducking his head so he could make eye contact with her, apparently confused that she would even ask such a thing.

“You already smell like six other hybrids. I don’t want to add a seventh to that bunch, besides my own,” Seokjin said seriously, Y/N’s skin on fire. With that statement, her jealousy towards Hannah earlier that day all but disappeared– the sensation replaced with butterflies soaring in her stomach.

“Oh,” Y/N repeated softly, Seokjin’s grin returning as he helped her to her feet.

“Speaking of scents. I smell Yoongi, I think he had the same idea as you,” Seokjin kept an arm around her as they headed to his door, Y/N’s knees like jelly as she remembered the conversation she was about to have. “Maybe he’ll play you a lullaby before bed!”

“That would be nice, Seokjinnie,” Y/N sighed, thankful for the calmness that came over her post-bite. “You should get some rest, too. Your eyes are almost completely shut!”

Facing him before she departed, Y/N felt her love for the jaguar hybrid almost completely drown and overwhelm her, him seemingly so at peace and soft around the edges at that moment. And in that moment, she allowed herself to pretend they were together, and all of the messiness was long behind them.

“Mmm. I forgot how much that can take out of me,” Seokjin blushed pink like the walls of his room, shifting from foot to foot. “I had a nice day with you today. Get some sleep after Yoongi plays that lullaby for you, alright?”

Unable to help herself, Y/N gently yanked on the front of Seokjin’s tee shirt, pressing her face into his chest and squeezing him around his middle. Deep, relaxed purrs vibrated against her cheek, Seokjin squeezing her back with equal amounts of force with his arms clasped around her hips.

“Okay, goodnight, honey, see you in the morning,” Y/N mumbled into his chest, reluctant to let him go. However, she was running a bit late to her meeting with Yoongi, and if she stayed in Seokjin’s room any longer, she’d never leave.

“Goodnight,” Seokjin whispered, releasing her and watching her shut his door as she left, her heart still galloping and vision a little fuzzy post-bite. The last thing she saw was the feline glow of his eyes in the darkened hallway.

Slipping into the music room, nothing indicated that Yoongi was in there besides the battery-operated candles littered around the room, illuminating his form by the window, looking out into the backyard. Y/N had managed to compose herself during the short tip-toed walk from Seokjin’s room to her original destination, securely locking the soundproof door with a small expulsion of air,

“Angel,” Y/N hummed, sitting heavily on the loveseat and waiting for him to join her, the leopard hybrid moving noiselessly from the window to the couch, Y/N barely able to make out his features in the low lighting.

“You’re late,” Yoongi scolded, though there wasn’t much force behind the words as he sat beside her. “And you’re covered in Eau de Seokjin.”

“Um, sorry?” Y/N offered, Yoongi shrugging indifferently as Y/N cuddled up to his side indulgently.

“No you’re not,” Yoongi teased, one of his arms draping over her shoulders as she curled into him, rolling her eyes. “Lucky for you, he’s dense.”

“So, he’s not one of the ones you’re worried about? Don’t think he’s caught on to… anything?”

“I’m not sure. If he has, he’s not letting me near enough to come to that conclusion,” Yoongi replied, letting Y/N snuggle into his shoulder. “It’s Namjoon you need to worry about. He’s watching me like a hawk. If he flies off the handle and gets in your face again, I’ll break his fucking legs.”

“You absolutely will not. I’ll make you foot the hospital bill with your earnings from Daisy’s lessons if you do,” Y/N poked Yoongi in the chest, the leopard hybrid growling as if in warning. “Joonie’s softened up anyways. I’m worried about Tae. You know how he follows me around, how he can close himself off.”

“Yeah, me too. He’s really attached to you, I don’t see him reacting well,” Yoongi sighed, pinching his nose bridge delicately. “On the bright side, I don’t think any of those idiots are aware you’re in love with them.”

Y/N flinched, that being the first time Yoongi didn’t beat around the bush when it came to her feelings about the others, gawking at Yoongi with alarm. His expression was neutral, like he had just given her a 10-day forecast.

“Jesus, Yoongi,” Y/N breathed, pulling away from him so she could rub her arms that were now covered in a chill. “Way to cut to the chase.”

“Well, it’s late. I don’t want to keep you up for much longer, so it’s better to just say things plainly,” Yoongi deadpanned, tugging her back into his arms by her shirtsleeve. “Come here, love.”

“What should I do, then?” Y/N redirected the conversation, Yoongi playing with the ends of her hair.

“Just… talk to them. If you don’t want to confess your feelings yet, fine. But they have to know about us before we get caught.”

Y/N grumbled, tracing her fingers along the silver chain around Yoongi’s neck contemplatively. She was preparing herself for a total shitshow; Namjoon could go either way– furious or indifferent– Taehyung could withdraw, her easy friendship with Hoseok may become strained and awkward. The whole situation had her sick to her stomach with worry, and there was no way she could come up with to break the news that wouldn’t cause a glaring rift.

“What do you think about Jeongguk, Jimin? How do you think they’ll… take it?”

“I don’t think Jeongguk will give a shit, to be honest,” Yoongi responded after a pause, shivering when Y/N’s fingertips grazed the sensitive skin of his throat. “Jimin is another one who has caught on, I think. Haven’t you noticed he’s sort of been avoiding the two of us?”

Y/N stilled, going over her memories of the past few weeks. Jimin had been outside more than usual, going on long rides around the property’s trails with each horse they had in their stables, clearing away brush in the area he wanted to place the garden beds in the spring, and repairing the old greenhouse in the backyard. Y/N could only remember him being indoors at night, usually with a book, and he definitely didn’t put up with mindless chit chat with Hoseok like he used to. Worrying her lower lip with her teeth, Y/N felt like talking to him in the morning would be a good idea.

“I think Seokjin will be fine, too. You could smack him across the face and he’d still dote on you,” Yoongi pointed out, Y/N grimacing at his amused expression.

“I’m glad you’re finding this all too amusing, angel,” Y/N frowned, crossing her arms over her chest while Yoongi’s rumbled with laughter behind her. “I’m gonna have a nervous breakdown.”

“Hey, don’t worry too much. It’ll all work out eventually, you know. They can’t resent you for being in love,” Yoongi turned off the theatrics, smoothing a hand down her back. “Besides. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Y/N murmured, reaching up to cup one of his cheeks and kissing the other gently. “I’ve got you too.”

“Talk to them this week,” Yoongi pressed his forehead against hers, his hand coming up to wrap around the wrist that was still beside his face. “You have to, alright, love?”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna sneak around anymore,” Y/N’s expression turned wicked, hand moving from Yoongi’s cheek to the back of his neck, tugging on the long locks of his hair.

“Impatient little one,” Yoongi chided with a snicker, giving her a chaste kiss on her mouth, Y/N thinking that wasn’t nearly enough. “Go to bed, now.”

“Can you play me a lullaby first?” Y/N used her best doe-eyed expression, Yoongi melting instantly, grabbing her hand and letting her lean her head on his shoulder while he played her a gentle, lilting tune.

Even though she went to bed late, Y/N got up weepingly early, wanting to catch Jimin before he disappeared into the backyard the entire day. Bundling up in her warmest sweater and jeans, she covered up Seokjin’s mark on her throat with a scarf, following the scent of coffee into the kitchen. Yoongi wasn’t up yet, but the coffee maker was on an automatic timer, so Y/N helped herself to a to-go cup, feeling cozy and warm in the coat Hoseok and Seokjin got for her. No one appeared to be awake yet, and all Y/N could hear beside the whistling wind outside was movement coming from down the hall where Jimin’s bedroom was. Deciding to just wait for him, Y/N perched herself in the breakfast nook, admiring the crystalline frost covering the grass in the backyard.

It was the coldest winter Y/N had experienced in a while, the sky gray almost every single day, the pond in the backyard frozen solid and icicles clinging to the eaves of the roof. Sipping her coffee, not even bothering to stir cream and sugar into it at that point, Y/N heard the heavy thunking sounds of Jimin walking through the foyer in his steel-toed boots, the sound stopping when he was in the threshold of the kitchen. Y/N tore her gaze from the backyard, smiling at the coyote hybrid brightly, pure astonishment on his face when he saw her sitting there in her coat and boots.

“Good morning!” Y/N greeted Jimin cheerfully, his yellow eyes wide with shock, Y/N trying not to giggle as he attempted to disguise his expression.

“What are you doing awake so early, Y/N?” Jimin asked, his voice still rough with sleep as he composed himself, tentatively reaching the coffee carafe with his ears alert and cautious. “I thought you liked to sleep in on your days off.”

“I wanted to help you out with the animals this morning. You know, earn my keep,” Y/N joked, Jimin snorting softly. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Jimin spun on his heel, cocking head with color in his cheeks, Y/N unable to help the smirk growing across her face. Jimin was very easy to tease, no matter how much of a smooth talker he could be.

“You’ve been trying to figure out where to put the garden beds too, right? Maybe I can help!” Y/N continued, getting up from her seat to get closer to the coyote hybrid, who was pushing a hand through his blonde hair with a nod.

��Yeah, that’s a good idea. I know you wanted to talk to me about what you want to grow, too,” Jimin replied, appearing torn between wanting to hang out with her and being a little jittery about it.

“Okay, let’s go then!” Y/N hooked her elbow with Jimin’s, fingers grappling with the soft suede of his jacket as she pulled him outside, Jimin able to take about three sips of his coffee before she was dragging him away from the warmth of their home.

Following the paving stones towards the back of the property, Y/N clung as close as she could to Jimin’s warmth, both of their breaths making clouds in front of them in the frosty air. The sun was low in the sky, truthfully still rising, but it looked like another overcast gray January day.

“Looks great out here, Jimin! I can’t believe you were able to clear out all that brush in front of the pond. Now we’ll be able to see it when we have lunch on the picnic table in the spring,” Y/N squeezed Jimin’s arm, the coyote hybrid’s ears flattening bashfully.

“Well, Taehyung helped, of course,” Jimin admitted, his boots making the grass crunch beneath his steps. “He filled in that mud pit with the gravel, too.”

“It’s shaping up back here! I’m going to call a contractor and see what they can do with that little guest house. I think it would be nice to turn it into a place to watch movies in the summer, like a fort! What do you think?” Y/N nudged Jimin’s hip with her own, crossing over the little bridge over the brook, the stable in her sights.

“I like that idea,” Jimin grinned down at Y/N, one of his pointed incisors flashing at her. “Why call a contractor though? I think we have renovations down to a certain science.”

“Fair,” Y/N agreed, breaking free from Jimin once they reached the chicken coop, the hens coming out of their little house like they sensed Jimin’s presence, the rooster squawking loudly. “Eek, Bandit scares me. I think he wants to eat Hoseok.”

Y/N pointed at the black rooster, the thing squawking at her again out of spite, Y/N thought. Jimin laughed heartily, turning on the tap so he could fill the chicken’s water trough with a hose. After blowing hot air into her fists, Y/N reached for the bag of chicken feed, giving Bandit a wide berth as she scattered food around the pen, humming merrily.

“Y/N, here’s the basket for the eggs. I’m going to check in on the horses, alright?” Jimin reached over the fence of the pen with a wicker basket in his hand, encouraging her to take it. “Watch out for Bandit, he’ll go for your ankles when you least expect it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Y/N mumbled, watching Jimin stroll away with a smirk on his face, taking it upon herself to stare at the way Jimin’s jeans hugged his legs.

She felt around the coop for eggs, gently nestling them in the basket as she went, using a free hand to shove Bandit away when he came snooping around her pant leg. She thought about maybe making a frittata for breakfast with the sheer amount of eggs she was pulling from the coop, fist-bumping the air when she placed the final one in the basket. Urgently leaving the pen before Bandit could chase her into a corner, Y/N set the basket down, gazing around the backyard curiously.

The brand-new exercise pen was made up of wood that was still a pale, power-washed color, and Jimin had stacked materials to construct the garden beds nearby, where the old-fashioned green copper penny greenhouse was several yards away. Jimin had certainly kept himself busy in the past few weeks, stacks of bagged soil already beside the greenhouse and rakes strewn about. He had even replaced the milky, cracked glass on the greenhouse, the new windows shining in the early morning sunlight.

Clicking her tongue, she made her way into the stable in search of the coyote hybrid, the building a few degrees warmer than the outside air but still drafty. Jimin had once explained to her that horses didn’t need space heaters, which Y/N wanted to get for them, with barely-contained amusement on his face. Shivering, she spotted Jimin with Vista towards the back of the stable, placing a blanket over her back.

“Whatcha doing?” Y/N eyed the bridle he was holding, giving his horse a pat on her neck.

“I was going to take her out and practice her jumps. It’s been a while, and I don’t want her to be bored,” Jimin expertly placed a saddle on her back, eyes flashing to Y/N making a tiny braid in the horse’s mane. “Why don’t you tell me what kinds of things you want to grow in the garden, so I can order seeds?”

“Ooh, let me think…” Y/N continued braiding Vista’s mane, hoping that Jimin didn’t mind. “We’ll have to do things seasonally, some things grow at different times of year, which I’m sure you know.”

“Actually, I don’t have too much experience with gardening. I’m better with animals and general landscaping, I think,” Jimin chuckled, leaving Vista clipped to one of the straps on the wall that kept the horse in place, grabbing a pitchfork to shovel fresh hay into Willow’s stall. “We’ll do some research, just snowball some basic ideas for me.”

“Hmm… cabbage, definitely. It’s hardy, we can make kimchi and stews with it. Leeks, peas, those are early spring veggies we can grow, too. I know Yoongi really loves tangerines, and Jeongguk likes bananas, but we don’t exactly live in a tropical environment so we can’t do that. Later on, though, we can grow strawberries in the summer, maybe even some blueberries, tomatoes. Carrots, celery, and onion for soups?” Y/N rambled, gazing towards the lofty ceiling of the stable as she went. “Ooh, and I want to make a smaller garden bed for all kinds of herbs, so we can use that for cooking and my practice. I think it would be nice to plant some flowers in one of the beds, too, to attract pollinators and butterflies!”

“Sounds like you’ve given this quite a bit of thought,” Jimin said, surprise coloring his tone. “I’ll have to get started on the beds. Thankfully we can use that greenhouse to sprout the seedlings.”

“Will you let me help you make the garden beds, Jimin? I know you’re worried I might injure myself with a hammer or something, but I did renovate all of your bedrooms prior to even knowing you. And the kitchen. A simple garden bed will be nothing for me,” Y/N jut her lower lip out, wondering if pouting worked on Jimin like it did with Yoongi.

Jimin blinked, placing the pitchfork back in its spot, approaching her and Vista again. By then, she had braided half of Vista’s dark mane mindlessly, the horse placidly letting her do what she wanted.

“If it’ll make you happy, then sure,” Jimin conceded, pulling his jeans up by his belt. “I don’t underestimate you. I apologize for making you feel that way, Y/N.”

Taken aback, her pouting working a little too well, Y/N put her hands up in alarm.

“Oh, shit, Jimin. You don’t have to apologize, you’re well aware that I have clumsy tendencies. I’m not insulted or anything, I swear,” Y/N blurted, Jimin’s eyes going wide as soon as an expletive left her mouth. “Sorry for swearing. I regret to inform you that my mouth is just about as filthy as Jeongguk’s…”

After a beat, Jimin’s shoulders started shaking, his eyes turning into slits as he laughed at her, Y/N spellbound by his joy as always.

“I know, Y/N. It’s funny though, you’re always trying to watch your mouth around me. I grew up with ranchers, remember? Crude as they come,” Jimin’s voice was strained in between his laughter, unclipping Vista from the wall as he spoke.

“So you’ve been letting me act like Anne of fucking Green Gables for months for your own amusement?” Y/N exclaimed, Jimin’s laughter growing louder and more untamed. “You all love to fuck with me, huh?”

“What does Hoseok say?” Jimin gathered Vista’s reins in one of his fists, guiding her forward towards the stable’s exit. “You make it too easy.”

Muttering, she followed Jimin outside, realizing the only hybrid she adopted that didn’t tease her whenever he got the chance was Namjoon. Even Seokjin had begun to show his cheeky, prankster-type side, but the wolf hybrid was a bit too stiff to crack jokes at her expense.

“It’s all fun and games until I start making cowboy jokes,” Y/N threatened, Jimin lifting an eyebrow at her as if to dare her. “I didn’t even notice those hurdles, did you make them yourself?”

Y/N watched Jimin unlatch the gate to the exercise pen, eyes on the freshly painted hurdles scattered around the area, all with varying heights and widths. The coyote hybrid was certainly making use of the Home Depot gift certificate he got in his stocking for Christmas, as well as the company’s delivery service. With a swish of his sandy tail, Jimin led Vista in the pen, Y/N unsure if she should follow or hang out by the fence and simply watch.

“Yeah, I learned how to make those when I was a kid. Simple enough,” Jimin replied, the morning sun crawling higher in the sky, making his hair look even more honeyed than usual. “Here, take a seat.”

Jimin let go of Vista’s reins, the horse obediently staying put as he approached Y/N casually, and before she could ask where exactly she should sit, she was hauled into the coyote hybrid’s arms, feet dangling pathetically in the air. Yelping, she struggled in Jimin’s grip on her body, the hybrid promptly placing her sideways on Vista’s back, Y/N immediately beginning to quake.

“Jimin!” Y/N hissed, instinctively swinging one of her legs over the horse’s back so she was seated in the saddle properly, arms around Vista’s neck in a desperate attempt not to fall off.

“Relax, Y/N,” Jimin snorted, gathering the reins and offering them to her. “You’re fine.”

“The closest I’ve ever gotten to riding a horse is when my dad made me get on a donkey at the zoo when I was seven,” Y/N protested, taking the reins like they were a lifeline. “Is this payback for the cowboy joke threat?”

“Relax,” Jimin repeated, using a stirrup to expertly hoist himself up, Y/N growing even stiffer when the coyote hybrid settled himself behind her, arms coming around to place his hands over hers on the reins. “Straighten up, lean back, if you’re nervous. I won’t let you fall.”

Doing just that, Y/N pressed her back into Jimin’s solid chest, shakily squeezing her thighs on either side of the horse’s body, Jimin’s hands rough but gentle on top of hers.

“Good. Progress,” Jimin murmured into her ear, a note of smug satisfaction in his tone. “You mentioned that you wanted to learn how to ride. Better to catch you off guard before you talk yourself out of it.”

“Right,” Y/N replied weakly, Jimin giving her simple instructions on how to get the horse to move forward, turn in certain directions, and stop. “You know, this reminds me of that picture of you and your sister. What’s her name? You never told me.”

They were making slow circles around the exercise pen, Jimin’s presence behind her protective and soothing, his rugged voice in her ear.

“Her name is Seonmi, she’s three years younger than me. About your age,” Jimin replied softly, Y/N feeling his hand’s squeeze over hers. “She was nervous about riding at first, like you. But now she does the bulk of the horse training.”

“Seonmi is a pretty name. I bet you miss her lots,” Y/N said, Jimin sighing behind her.

“Of course I do,” Jimin started, the two making their fifth lap around the pen. “But like I said before, I don’t have any regrets.”

“We could visit your family soon, if you’d like. I had Ben do some digging, and there’s nothing that says you can’t visit with them, as long as I’m with you and we bring your adoption certificate,” Y/N proposed, thankful for Jimin’s warmth as a biting breeze rolled by. “What do you think? When’s the weather nice in Montana?”

Jimin fell silent, nothing but the sound of Vista’s hooves clomping away on the beaten-down earth emphasizing the lack of Jimin’s response. Y/N gave him time to process, as she pretty much dropped a bombshell on him, his left hand retreating from the back of hers and his forearm curling around her middle snugly.

“July, it’s the warmest and when the park looks the most beautiful,” Jimin’s voice was throaty, his hold on her tender. “I– didn’t know that you were looking into that for me. You’re serious, we can visit?”

Y/N craned her neck to the side so she could get a look at Jimin’s face, and it was much closer than she thought it was, the coyote hybrid seeking eye contact with her through his light eyelashes. Able to smell his lavender shampoo from such a short distance, Y/N found herself staring right at Jimin’s mouth, his lips tempting and nearer than ever.

“Of course I’m serious, it’s your family! We’ll go whenever you want, however frequently you want, too,” Y/N insisted, her thighs beginning to ache from straddling Vista for so long. “Just say the word, I’ll get us flights.”

Jimin cleared his throat, staring straight ahead, appearing to try and push down overwhelming emotion.

“Want to try a jump?”

“Huh? Jimin, I’ve barely learned how to steer her, you want me to try a jump?” Y/N spluttered, surprised that he changed the subject so abruptly.

“I’m behind you, nothing will go wrong. I’ll tell you exactly what to do,” Jimin’s easy confidence made a comeback, Y/N picturing a smirk on his face as he squeezed her around the middle.

With that, Jimin told her how to lift herself out of the saddle, lean forward, and stay in position during the jump, Y/N feeling less nervous with Jimin behind her and his clear expertise. Besides, there was something freeing about the idea of sailing through the air, so Y/N began to get excited as they approached one of the hurdles, her heart racing.

“You can do it,” Jimin encouraged, giving her hip an encouraging pat, Vista speeding up and Y/N lifting herself out of the saddle with her back still pressed to Jimin’s chest, whooping loudly as Vista successfully flew over the hurdle. “That’s it! You’re a natural.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t behind me, though, I would have fallen on my ass,” Y/N was riding the high of his praise, enjoying every second of her time with Jimin even if she was frozen solid.

After a few more jumps, Y/N’s thighs were truly starting to go numb, humbling her by how out of shape she was. She knew she should probably head back into the house soon to have some breakfast, her stomach growling loudly once they landed a final jump.

“Ah, you should go in now. Don’t want you to get frostbite, and by the sounds of it, you’re famished,” Jimin brought Vista to a halt, swiftly and gracefully sliding off of the horse, his hand outstretched for Y/N’s.

“Are you going to come with me?” Y/N asked, trying to keep the whine out of her voice at the thought of parting with him, his citrine eyes twinkling with amusement as she placed her hand in his.

Using his free hand, Jimin hooked his forearm around Y/N’s lower back, lifting her gently off of the saddle and setting her down on her feet, keeping his arm in place as she shook the feeling back into her legs. His ears were perked up as she groaned softly, the blood rushing to her stiff muscles and giving her pins and needles.

“I’m going to take the other horses out for exercise, too. It won’t take too long, I’ll come in for lunch later. Have a few more windows to replace on the greenhouse,” Jimin scratched the back of his neck, again looking a bit conflicted. Yoongi was right, Jimin was definitely trying to get some distance, using tasks outside as excuses.

“Oh, alright,” Y/N watched Jimin pat Vista’s neck distractedly, his nose twitching. “I’ll see you then. Thanks for the riding lesson, it was a lot of fun!”

“Anytime, Y/N. In the spring, we can take longer rides on the trail together,” Jimin’s nose was still twitching, Y/N wondering if he could smell her suspicion that he knew something about her and Yoongi, but his sweet smile gave nothing away. “Head in now, don’t forget the eggs.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Y/N watched the coyote hybrid usher Vista back into the stable, scooping up the basket of eggs by the coop before she started back to the house.

Y/N thought that she’d be able to tell right away if Jimin knew anything, as he typically was easier to read than a book with his earnest expressions. The only indication that something was awry was his insistence on hanging outside for hours on end. Thankfully, she thought, he was just as laid-back and friendly as he always was, and if he did know something, it wasn’t preventing him from treating Y/N normally.

As she approached the house, she saw that Taehyung and Yoongi were in the kitchen, the former changing out the lens on his camera for a different one. Yoongi, however, was in the middle of stirring coffee in two separate mugs– one of them, she assumed, for her.

Monday night, Y/N came home with a packet of information about the haunting her, Jeongguk, and Namjoon were going to investigate, sighing blissfully as the scent of homemade pasta sauce filled the house. Kicking off her shoes and hanging up her bag, she was too beat from helping Judy with the busy sale they had that day to discuss more mystical subject matter with the two hybrids, so she kept the packet in her bag. All she wanted was to sink into the couch with a bowl of pasta, numbing her brain with whatever show the hybrids were binging that day.

“Hi, angel,” Y/N padded into the kitchen, finding him by himself, stirring the pasta sauce with a wooden spoon. “How was your day? The lesson with Daisy?”

“Good. She learned Twinkle Twinkle faster than you,” Yoongi winked at her, Y/N tugging on a lock of his hair in retribution. “You? You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, we had a pop-up sale today. 60% off on crystals, 30% on jewelry. Place was jammed with ladies that look like my mom,” Y/N complained, mouth watering at the scent of tomato and basil. Or perhaps it was the smell of Yoongi’s spicy vanilla cologne. “Where is everyone?”

“Taehyung’s in his darkroom. Ghostbusters are outside, Foxy and Jimin are sawing wood for whatever project the coyote cooked up this time,” Yoongi hummed as Y/N wrapped an arm around his waist as he cooked, leaning her chin on his shoulder tiredly. “Seokjin’s in his room.”

“It’s getting dark, I’m worried that someone is going to lose a finger sawing,” Y/N peered over her shoulder to look outside, but she couldn’t really make anything out with the waning sunlight.

“Don’t sweat it. They can see better than you in the dark, silly girl,” Yoongi set down the wooden spoon, turning on his heel and grabbing Y/N by her hips, threading his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans. “Missed you.”

“Oh, did you?” Y/N pushed hair out of his face, tucking a strand of it behind his ear, playfully flicking one of the hoops threaded through it. “Careful, baby…”

“It’s fine, no one’s here,” Yoongi pulled her closer, Y/N bracing herself by placing her hands on his chest, his voice gravelly and quiet.

Blushing, her eyes fluttered shut, secretly thrilled that he was being so bold, and maybe by the possibility of being caught, even if it caused a total shitshow. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she sighed softly at the feeling of Yoongi’s lips on hers, sweet and soft. One of his hands cradled the side of her face as he kissed her, Y/N’s arms looping around his neck as she attempted to deepen the kiss by swiping her tongue over his lower lip.

Things came to a shattering halt when the slider to the backyard was yanked open, Y/N springing apart from Yoongi with utter horror. Apparently, throwing caution to the wind had thoroughly fucked her.

“Oh shit, wolf, you called it. How much do I owe you?” Jeongguk strolled into the kitchen cockily, arms crossed over his chest as he looked from Y/N to Yoongi. “Twenty bucks?”

Namjoon was behind the elk hybrid, his expression made of stone as he watched Y/N grapple for the countertop so she wouldn’t pass out. Neither of them seemed pissed, but Y/N had absolutely no idea what to say.

To make matters worse, Jimin was leaning against the coffee bar after slipping inside behind Namjoon, and Hoseok was standing in the doorway with huge, shocked eyes and letting frigid air into the house.

“I– I,” Y/N panicked, noticing the slight disappointment all over Jimin’s face, and the way Hoseok was standing so stiffly, it was like he was being electrocuted. “Um, I, we–”

“Were kissing as friends?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, wrestling a beer from the fridge. “Please.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Yoongi hissed, Y/N stiffening as he put an arm around her waist, squeezing tightly.

“Y/N… you… do you like him?” Hoseok snapped out of whatever was keeping him stationary in the doorframe, hastily shutting the slider.

There was silence, Jimin looking at the floor, Namjoon simply watching with a neutral expression, and Jeongguk sipping his beer with an amused smirk. Feeling bile crawl up her throat, there was no escaping her current situation, the only thing holding her upright being Yoongi’s strong arm around her. Through her embarrassment, though, she was comforted by the leopard hybrid’s presence, and it was enough to spark some bravery.

“I love him,” Y/N admitted, her voice wobbly but sure.

“Jesus,” Jeongguk shook his head, picking his nails and glancing at Namjoon across the room. “I guess I owe you forty bucks.”

“I’m sorry, you two made bets?” Hoseok composed himself, looking absolutely incredulous. “What the fuck? How did you even know this was going on?”

“You’re not very perceptive,” was all Namjoon said, still not giving Y/N any idea how he was feeling. “I noticed weeks ago.”

Quaking, Y/N felt her lower lip tremble, not knowing if she was going to cry or not.

“So, what. Are you two just gonna be together from now on?” Jeongguk inquired, Y/N astonished that Yoongi was completely right– Jeongguk didn’t give a shit about the two of them being romantically involved.

“That a problem?” Yoongi spoke up, a growl low in his throat.

“Not for me,” Jeongguk drained the rest of his beer, getting up from the barstool he was sitting on and walking by Namjoon, tossing two twenty dollar bills at the wolf hybrid’s chest. “Let me know when the food’s ready, I’m gonna shower.”

With that, the elk hybrid left the room, leaving Y/N reeling.

“Um, the rest of you?” Y/N chewed on her lip, glancing at the other three hybrids scattered around the kitchen. Jimin had a difficult time looking at her, and Hoseok was being weird, rolling an apple from the fruit basket on the countertop back and forth.

“Do what you want, Y/N. It’s your life,” Namjoon answered smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk about the case later, though?”

Completely caught off guard that Namjoon, too, didn’t seem to care, nor did he fly off the handle, Y/N blinked at him, shakily nodding her head. Once that was confirmed, Namjoon took a seat in the breakfast nook, pulling out a book from his hoodie pocket and taking himself out of the conversation.

Hoseok shrugged, returning the apple to the basket, heading towards the foyer with his sunny grin back on his face– always managing to bounce back.

“I second what the wolf said. None of my business, and if you’re happy then that’s all that matters. Keep the making out in front of me to a minimum, though, I don’t wanna see you like that, Yoongi,” Hoseok jabbed, whistling his signature tone, leaving the room. Seconds later, Y/N heard the TV turn on in the parlor.

Jimin, out of the four who walked in on them, was definitely the most perturbed. Gently, she eased Yoongi’s arm off of her, approaching Jimin slowly, and finally he made eye contact with her.

“Jimin, are you upset?” Y/N asked tentatively, and he shook his head after a short pause.

“No, Y/N, I’m not upset,” Jimin placed a hand on her forearm, though his lips were still downturned at the corners. “I just wish you had told me sooner. You didn’t have to sneak around.”

Flinching, she hardly recognized the hurt in his voice. Y/N realized he must have taken the “sneaking around” as not trusting him enough to divulge her feelings, and with a pat to her forearm, Jimin made a move to leave the kitchen, too, but not before adding one last statement.

“You deserve to be happy, Y/N,” Jimin offered her a half-smile, and with a swish of his tail, he was gone.

“That went remarkably well,” Yoongi broke the silence, Namjoon snorting from his spot at the breakfast nook, rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d be pissed, wolf.”

“I learned my lesson the first time beating the shit out of Taehyung. Solves nothing, and I’m not about to tell Y/N how to live her life.”

Blushing, Y/N was impressed by how much progress Namjoon had made in regards to taming his temper, sheepishly trudging back over to Yoongi. Yoongi, for the first time in weeks, looked relieved, giving Y/N a kiss on her forehead.

“But… Seokjin, and Tae. Still have to tell them,” Y/N was embarrassed that Yoongi kissed her in front of Namjoon, but the wolf hybrid was absorbed in reading The Secret History and didn’t appear to notice.

“No you don’t, they definitely heard,” Yoongi grimaced, Y/N flinching again. “Everyone knows now.”

Over the course of the week, everything… pretty much went back to normal, for the most part. Y/N refused to engage in PDA with Yoongi in front of the others, being far too shy for that, but Hoseok was back to his normal self, Jimin had forgiven her for the deception, and Namjoon and Jeongguk acted like nothing had changed at all.

As for Seokjin, things were a bit awkward, at first, and Y/N noticed that he wasn’t as clingy anymore. Yoongi theorized it was because Seokjin didn’t want to come between him and Y/N, but Y/N didn’t wholly agree. When he came down for dinner on Monday night, he didn’t say anything about her and Yoongi, and he said nothing when Yoongi took the jaguar hybrid’s normal spot beside her.

Taehyung was an entirely different story. He acted indifferent, but he stared at Yoongi with so much contempt, Y/N thought the somewhat new friendship between them pretty much went up in flames. While Seokjin wasn’t as clingy anymore, Taehyung stopped clinging altogether, going from his photography club to mealtimes to his bedroom. He had been avoiding Y/N all week, much to her dismay.

Thursday, after work, she corralled Namjoon and Jeongguk into the wolf hybrid’s van to discuss the paranormal case, packet in hand. Trying to push down how weirded out she was that Seokjin and Taehyung were being so distant, she focused on the two hybrids that treated her the same as they did before walking in on her and Yoongi.

“So, I told Judy that next week we can travel to the family’s house for our first consultation. I’ll make sure it isn’t on a Monday, so it doesn’t conflict with the book club meeting, Joonie.”

She handed Namjoon the packet of information, his grip eager, while Jeongguk lazily lounged in the booth beside her, playing a phone game.

“The Sanders family. Single mother Erika, her 13-year-old daughter Julie, and 10-year-old son Thomas,” Namjoon read off the top page of the information Judy gave her, waving cigarette smoke out of his face with annoyance. “Do you have to smoke in here?”

“She’s blocking me in this booth, and I don’t want to move,” Jeongguk replied, tapping the ash off of the cigarette into the glass ashtray Y/N had bought for him at a thrift store. “Keep going, I don’t wanna be here all night.”

“The activity started in December. Knocks on the walls, doors opening and closing on their own. The daughter reported seeing a shadow in the shape of a man in her room one night. Odd smells tend to linger in the air, seemingly coming out of nowhere…”

“Demon,” Jeongguk commented helpfully, turning off the phone game he was playing. “Sounds like a script from a movie.”

“I haven’t even read it all, yet. You think everything is a goddamn demon,” Namjoon snarled, tossing the packet at Jeongguk’s face, his ear twitching in agitation. “It seems that most of the activity is surrounding the daughter.”

“Further proves my theory. Demons tend to prey on adolescents,” Jeongguk flipped through the packet, using a highlighter on various sentences printed out on the paper. “Maybe she was messing around with a Ouija board, or hanging out with her friends in a cemetery or something.”

“We won’t know until we interview her,” Y/N pointed out. “I agree with Jeongguk. It Sounds like it might be a demonic haunting. We’ll have to do a cleansing of the entire property, do protection magic on each family member, and put up wards for them.”

“Good, a tentative plan,” Namjoon relented, using a legal pad to jot things down. “I’m gonna make a list of materials we might need.”

After an hour spent with the two hybrids coming up with a plan of attack, Y/N headed back into the house, hoping to catch Taehyung when he arrived back from the photography club. Her mother took him, Hoseok, and Yoongi to the rec center for their activities, and would be dropping them off any moment.

Hanging up her coat, she took a seat on the staircase, spotting headlights pulling up to the front of the property. Squirming in her seat, she hoped that Taehyung would allow her to talk to him, and as the front door swung open, Hoseok bolted inside, smiling brightly at Y/N and ruffling her hair, cheekily grabbing her hand to haul her to her feet. Though covered in sweat, he still looked handsome, the ends of his hair damp on his forehead.

“How was it today?” Y/N let go of Hoseok’s clammy hand, the fox hybrid whistling.

“Hard. Ran like four miles. I gotta shower, Yoongi said I reek,” Hoseok complained, though Y/N could tell he had a good time.

Next though the door was Taehyung, his eyes going wide once he realized Y/N was blocking the way of both of his hiding spots. Smirking, Hoseok ditched her, skipping down the steps to the basement while whistling a tune.

“Hey, Tae,” Y/N tried her best to act natural, Taehyung’s fist tightening on the bag containing his camera. “I’ve been missing you, lately. Working hard on photos for the next expo?”

Taehyung didn’t reply, shifting from foot to foot, relief washing over his face as Yoongi appeared in the foyer, dressed in his athletic wear and similarly as sweaty as Hoseok was. However, once Taehyung realized it was Yoongi, his face became screwed up with an unreadable expression.

“Hi, baby,” Yoongi went right up to Y/N, Taehyung going stiff as he watched Yoongi plant a chaste kiss on her mouth with a devilish smirk, pulling her in for a very sweaty hug.

“Ah! Angel, you’re all sweaty,” Y/N exclaimed, her fingertips slipping against the damp flesh of his biceps. Once Yoongi pulled Y/N into the embrace, there was enough space for Taehyung to squeak by her, and he did, bolting up the stairs like he was on fire.

“You did that on purpose,” Y/N accused, eyeing Taehyung’s form disappearing into his bedroom.

“What, can’t kiss my girl?” Yoongi blinked innocently, though the corner of his mouth pulled upwards gave away his mischievous intentions.

“Go bathe, I’m making dinner tonight,” Y/N muttered, poking his shoulder and gesturing to the stairs.

“Okay, baby,” Yoongi shot her a wink, Y/N’s mouth drying up at the sight of his arms flexing as he gripped the stair’s bannister. “Try not to burn yourself in my absence.”

Giving him the finger while his back was turned, she watched him slouch up the stairs, butterflies in her stomach.

The next day, Friday, Y/N had off, and she nervously checked her appearance in the mirror before she worked up the courage to meet Yoongi in the music room for her lesson. She was unsure as to why she was feeling jittery, as she swiped some berry-flavored lip balm on, she had had dozens of lessons with him, but that day, circumstances were different. Now that everyone knew that they were together, they didn’t have to hide. They could…

Shaking her head, she tossed whatever dirty thought that was beginning to form aside, jerkily adjusting the elastic band of her loose fabric pants. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, making her take her attention off of her reflection.

Yoongi 👼🏻: coming?

Unable to put it off anymore, Y/N left her room, scampering upstairs. With mostly everyone else either outside with the animals or hanging out in Namjoon’s van, Taehyung editing photos in the downstairs office, she didn’t bump into anyone on the way to the music room. Like always, she promptly shut and locked the door behind her, gritting her teeth at the sound of Yoongi snickering from across the room.

“You’re always laughing at me,” Y/N griped, turning to get a good look at her leopard hybrid. He looked amazing, even though he was in simple gray sweatpants and his wine-colored henley. “I just don’t want a repeat of Monday night.”

“Hmm… I get it,” Yoongi put his hands up, using a couple of crooked fingers to beckon her to him. “Though, all things considered, everyone seems to be taking the news well.”

“Yeah, except for Tae,” Y/N said. “Thanks, by the way, for scaring him off yesterday. I really need to talk to him.”

“He’ll come around. I think he wants some space,” Yoongi responded, plopping down on the piano bench. “What do you want to learn today?”

“You’re letting me pick?” Y/N gasped dramatically, getting comfortable beside him. “Wow, you’re not trying to butter me up or something, right?”

“Just pick a song and stop being dramatic, sweetheart,” Yoongi groaned, lifting the fallboard off of the keys.

“Um… okay, how’s this?” Y/N began seriously, Yoongi reading her features with curiosity. “Bella’s Lullaby.”

“Oh, come on,” Yoongi lightly shoved her by her shoulder, Y/N giggling like a maniac. “I said be serious!”

“If you don’t want to teach me, I could just Google the score,” Y/N sassed, a frown growing on his face.

“Don’t be a brat,” Yoongi snapped, grabbing Y/N’s phone from her and tossing it on the chair across the room. “If that’s what you want to learn, I’ll teach you.”

Y/N was busy trying to get her stomach to stop from flipping over when he called her a brat, praying he didn’t notice her thighs involuntarily pressing together. Grumbling, Yoongi started to scribble notes on blank sheet music, his tail mindlessly curling around her hips. Y/N took her time studying him while he worked, his hair falling into his face and his lower lip tucked between his teeth.

Continuing her visual perusal of her leopard hybrid, her eyes dropped lower, skimming the elegant column of his neck, the shiny chain clasped around it, lowering her gaze even further to gawk at the way his shirt hugged his biceps. Licking her lips, she focused back on the sheet music, watching the way he gripped the pen, his other hand, she realized, gripping her knee gently. Yoongi’s hands were beautiful; pale, veiny, and strong. Without thinking, she began to trace the veins with her fingertips, Yoongi purring in response.

“You have pretty hands,” Y/N complimented, fiddling with his index finger as Yoongi shook his head with a smile.

“Thank you, baby,” Yoongi squeezed her knee, Y/N humiliated that such a simple action sent an electric shock of arousal through her. This time, Y/N was positive Yoongi could tell she was turned on, subtly sniffing the air and eyes darkening a shade. “That’s all?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N shivered at the sound of Yoongi’s deep voice, flames licking her cheek as she felt Yoongi’s hand slide upwards a few inches on her thigh.

“Nevermind, then,” Yoongi’s tone turned teasing, withdrawing his hand from her thigh, rolling his wrists to warm them up. “I have the first few bars. I’ll have to look up the rest later.”

“Stop teasing me,” Y/N ignored the sheet music he placed on the piano, squirming on the bench. “Yoongi.”

Going still, Yoongi cocked his head at her, ears flattening to his skull as she swung one leg over to straddle the bench, fully facing him now. His sight dropped down, the sound of his purring cutting off as Y/N hoped he got the hint. She was tired of waiting, she wanted him now.

“Baby,” Yoongi cooed softly, almost in warning, setting his pen down and leveling a charged stare directly in her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Want you,” Y/N answered immediately, without hesitation. “Don’t wanna wait anymore.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s gaze turned sharp, feline. “But you were being so patient.”

The leopard hybrid’s touch returned, both of his hands settling on her thighs heavily, Y/N’s breathing beginning to come out in short pants. It was pathetic, truthfully, how quickly she was dissolving into pure want, but she didn’t care, not when he was looking at her like that.

“My patience has run out,” Y/N hardly knew what they were talking about anymore, tugging Yoongi closer by the collar of his shirt. “I want you.”

Growling, Yoongi’s mouth was on her’s in a heartbeat, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as she wound her fingers into his hair, using the locks as an anchor to prevent him from pulling away. Not wasting any time, Yoongi tilted his head, his lips parting, Y/N mirroring the action to deepen the kiss urgently. Whimpering when she felt his tongue slide against hers, she drank in his taste; sweet from the tangerines he had with his lunch. Tongue sweeping over her gums, exploring, Y/N pressed her chest into his, desperate to be as close as possible. Before long, Yoongi pulled away, Y/N gasping for breath as one of his hands traveled to her lower back, making her spine arch in his grasp.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Yoongi grunted, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down the length of it. “Want you, too.”

Mewling into his mouth when he dove back in, her flesh tingled where his fingertips were crawling up the back of her shirt, seeking. She was swelteringly hot and freezing cold at the same time, trying to keep up with the way Yoongi was kissing her so thoroughly. By now, she could feel her underwear starting to stick to her, Yoongi no doubt being able to tell, judging by the way he was groaning against her lips.

Accidentally, her grip on his hair slipped when he moved to attack her throat with equally passionate kisses and nips, grabbing onto one of his ears. Yoongi hissed against her skin, biting down particularly hard on her collarbone but not breaking the skin. Crying out, she tugged on his ear again in response, Yoongi moaning into the crook of her neck, his heart pounding so fast Y/N could feel it against her chest. So hybrid ears were sensitive, she thought distantly, using her thumb and forefinger to rub a few circles against the silky fur. Meanwhile, Yoongi was busy sucking a bruise into the base of her throat, Y/N’s thighs clenching around the bench, and she wondered if she had already soaked through her panties and her pants.

Abruptly, Yoongi pulled away, a feral look in his eyes as Y/N’s grip was lost on his ears, her hands reaching to tangle into the fabric of his shirt before her wrists were gathered in one fist, Yoongi lifting them in the air. Confused, she whimpered in protest, wanting to touch him, but Yoongi caught her by surprise by reaching for the hem of her sweater, peeling it upwards quickly and tossing the garment across the room as soon as it was off of her.

“Yoongi!” Y/N squealed, the leopard hybrid ignoring her as he let go of her wrists, mercifully, her eyes and head rolling backwards at the sensation of Yoongi’s mouth back on her, this time, his attention on the other side of her neck and his hands settling on the small of her naked waist. “Oh.”

Sighing, her eyes slipped shut, unable to prevent the whines of his name coming out of her mouth steadily, weakly gripping his shoulders to keep her tethered to earth. Dragging his tongue along the dip of her collarbone, beside the choker she was wearing, he purred, nipping her once before straightening up. Getting a good handful of her hair, Yoongi angled Y/N’s face back to him, sucking her lower lip into his mouth.

“So beautiful,” Yoongi murmured in between kisses, a few of his fingers tracking the band of her bra, Y/N gasping when she felt them slide under the fabric. “Need you…”

“Please, Yoongi,” Y/N could hardly recognize her own voice, sounding so wrecked already.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked darkly, plucking up one of her bra straps and letting it smack against her skin when he released it.

“Touch me,” Y/N begged, nearly ready to pin him to the ground out of frustration.

Grunting sharply, Yoongi finally snapped, both hands joining each other behind her back, pulling the clasp of her bra free and chucking it to the side without a thought. Normally, in that position, Y/N often grew shy, but there was no room for that when it was Yoongi looking at her like that. Eyes sweeping over her torso, Yoongi’s fingertips traced the sides of her waist with reverence, Y/N’s chest heaving in anticipation.

Experimentally, his touch migrated across her ribcage, right under the curve of her breasts. Pausing, Yoongi glanced up at Y/N, her lip sucked into her mouth and eyebrows pulled together, he watched, transfixed, delight taking over her expression when his thumbs brushed over her nipples.

“Fuck,” she whined, arching even more into his touch, her fingernails cutting into the skin of Yoongi’s shoulders even through the fabric of her shirt. Encouraged by her reaction, he pinched one of the buds, growling when she began to tremble and moan his name desperately.

“Sensitive, baby?” Yoongi hummed, the scent of her arousal starting to make him delirious with lust. Before Y/N could reply, however, Yoongi surged forward, pressing kisses across her chest, and when his lips wrapped around one of her nipples, Yoongi swore she was nearly weeping beneath him.

“Yoongi, oh–” She managed to grind out, Yoongi flicking the nipple that wasn’t tucked between his lips, loving how responsive she was to his touch. “Oh my god.”

Before he could have too much fun, however, Y/N was yanking him up by his shirt, her eyes wild and lidded.

“You too,” she panted, tugging on the material of his henley, Yoongi busy admiring the marks he had left all over her throat and chest. Distractedly, he reached behind him, yanking his shirt off and letting it drop to the floor.

Like he had with her, Y/N soaked in every inch of his chest, automatically tracking her hands all over his skin, the muscles of his stomach clenching at the chill of her fingers. Mouth watering at the sight of him, in just sweatpants and his silver chain, Y/N hooked a finger around the necklace and pulled Yoongi in for another searing kiss.

Y/N moaned at the sensation of their bare chests pressed together, Yoongi sucking on her tongue, and she was now positive she had soaked through her pants. Moaning again, this time in protest, considering Yoongi was getting off the bench and pulling away from her. Mouth dropped open to ask where he was going, she squeaked when he dropped to his knees in front of her, forcefully moving her leg so she was sitting on the bench properly, the leopard hybrid sitting between her parted knees. Attempting to close them, Yoongi shot her a warning look before pushing them apart again.

“You’re so perfect,” Yoongi sighed, hands once again on her thighs as he trailed kisses down her sternum, stopping for a moment to lave over one of her nipples. He was painfully hard at that point, her endless string of mewls and moans making his head spin. “Being so good for me.”

He continued his path down her body, stamping open-mouthed kisses over the soft swell of her stomach, her hip bones, Y/N’s hips involuntarily twitching as his hair started to tickle the skin around her most sensitive areas. One hand keeping her still by gripping her hip, Yoongi teasingly dipped his fingertips into the waistband of her paints, Y/N imploring him to do something with dollike eyes.

Daring to look between her legs, Yoongi purred in surprise, realizing she had soaked straight through her pale blue cotton pants, the material a darker blue, clinging to her center.

“Angel,” Y/N whined, a note of embarrassment coloring her sweet voice, her hips bucking upwards as his fingers slid further past the waistband.

“Want me to touch you?” Yoongi didn’t know who he was becoming, but his voice sounded dark and wicked. He could soak in that moment forever, and he’d be a happy man.

Nodding furiously, Y/N looked torn between bashful and eager, a pretty layer of sweat coating her skin under the candlelight of the room. Behind her, somehow in the frenzy, the fallboard of the piano was put back in place, Y/N’s elbows braced on the wood. Somehow, the image of his lover, pliant and waiting for him, leaning against the very instrument that they had spent many afternoons playing together, was almost too much to bear. It was that image, one that he wanted burned into his eyelids, that had him springing into action.

“Hips up,” he ordered, Y/N’s knees shaking as she did what she was told, Yoongi pulling her pants from her body and using a firm hand to have her settle back on the bench. Left in just a pair of white lacy panties that matched the bra she was once wearing, Yoongi wondered if she had planned for this to happen.

Now that her pants were off, the scent of her arousal was nearly enough to knock him out. Sitting there in just her panties, that were so damp with her juices they were see-through, Y/N tried to close her legs again and rub, Yoongi lightly tapping her thigh with a growl.

Thighs shaking, Y/N hissed sharply when Yoongi sunk his teeth into the meat of her thigh, sucking a deep bruise into it, feeling his tail thrash behind him and his boxers becoming unbearably tight. Taking deep breaths through his nose, trying to drink in the scent of her as much as he could, Y/N was begging above him– please, please, please.

“Want me to touch you here?” Yoongi’s eyes flicked up to hers, his fingers ghosting along the lace just above her folds, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat coming off of her core. “Want me to kiss you here? Make you feel good?”

“Oh, please, baby,” Y/N’s voice was strained, scratchy, and there were tears gathering at her waterline out of pure frustration. “N-need you so bad– ah!”

Her watery eyes paired with the begging were enough for Yoongi to stop toying with her, his hand finally cupping her through soaked lace, cunt pulsing against his palm immediately. Hands flying into his hair, Y/N gasped, so far past the point of being so embarrassingly desperate she let her head fall back against the piano.

“Fucking soaked,” Yoongi remarked in awe, using his middle finger to trace a line over the center of her panties, more wetness seeping into the fabric. “You must have thought about this, huh? Me touching you like this?”

Y/N’s hips canted upwards into Yoongi’s hand, chasing more pressure, more pleasure, egged on by Yoongi’s filthy mouth. The heel of his palm pressed into her clit, her toes curling and a wail leaving her swollen lips, the grip she had in his hair stinging his scalp. Without a word, Yoongi pushed the gusset of her panties to the side, not bothering to take them off, the scent of her smacking him square in the face. She was dripping by now, thighs soaked, Yoongi unable to believe how wet he had gotten her, and he was just getting started.

Holding her breath, Y/N stared at ravenous Yoongi’s face between her legs, yelping when he pulled one of her thighs over his shoulder, and before she could process that, Yoongi licked a long, torturously slow stripe up the entirety of her pussy, moaning at the taste of her.

Y/N’s spirit left her body at that moment. Spine arching sharply, she cried out at the sudden onslaught of his tongue on her, cheeks burning. A strong hand pressed to her lower stomach, the other holding her panties to the side, Yoongi used a thumb to swipe over her clit, feeling more of her wetness seep onto his tongue. Y/N’s cries of pleasure grew in volume, prettier than any song he ever heard, dipping his tongue into her spasming entrance, her hips pressing into his face with force.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” Yoongi mumbled against her core, though Y/N barely heard him through the noises he was pulling from her. He was disgustingly good at what he was doing, alternating between licking through her folds and brushing his lips over her clit, Y/N somehow already close. “Mine.”

“O-oh, your’s,” Y/N agreed, Yoongi satisfied with that reply, simultaneously wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking, and sliding his middle finger into her entrance, her hips jerking into his face with a shriek.

“Tight little pussy,” Yoongi hummed, curling his finger just so to have spots blacking out Y/N’s vision, marveling at how tightly her cunt wrapped around his finger, squeezing. “Fuck, baby.”

“A-Ah! Yoongi, I, I,” Y/N was shaking, sweaty, and looking positively ruined, a choked whimper cutting her off when Yoongi added another finger to the mix, her wetness slipping down his wrist, at that point. “Close!”

Humming again, this time with his lips wrapped around her clit, he sped up the fingers fucking into her heat, his other hand pressing down hard on her lower stomach, determined to make her explode. Babbling incoherently, Y/N shakily laced her fingers with Yoongi’s splayed on her abdomen, the squelching sounds of Yoongi’s fingers pistoning in and out of her making the tips of her ears burn.

“Come on, my love, cum for me, won’t you?” Yoongi purred, Y/N’s vision going white when his lips returned to her little bundle of nerves, sucking hard, his fingers curling viciously against her G-spot. With that, she came with his name ripping from her hoarse throat, Yoongi swearing as she clamped down on him like a vice, her body contorting and writhing on the piano bench. “That’s my good girl, shit, you made such a mess.”

Yoongi worked her through her orgasm, gaping at how her wetness had dripped over the bench, covered his chest, and even made a small puddle on the hardwood floor. When a pained whimper left her mouth, oversensitive, Yoongi pulled his fingers from her pussy, giving her mound a soft kiss, soothingly rubbing one his palms over her quaking thigh, popping his soaked digits into his mouth.

“Oh,” Y/N tried to catch her breath, face flushed, “My god.”

“Good?” Yoongi smirked, rising from his knees and planting a kiss on her sweaty forehead. “You did so well, sweetheart, love you so much.”

Preening at the praise, she dragged him close by his neck, feeling how feverish his skin was while she tasted herself on his lips. Position a tad awkward, Y/N got to her feet by using Yoongi’s chest for balance, hands slipping over the combination of his sweat and her juices that spilled onto his skin.

“We don’t have to do anything else, that was a lot,” Yoongi murmured against her lips, arm around her waist as he tucked hair behind her ear. Instantly, Y/N frowned, gazing down at the very obvious tent in his pants.

Without a word, she snatched up the leopard hybrid’s wrist, dragging him to the leather loveseat, Yoongi making startled noises as she shoved him onto it, cheeks flushed and lips glistening with saliva and cum. Then, it was Y/N’s turn to drop to her knees, Yoongi stuttering out a swear as she bit his collarbone, hands dragging heavily down his toned chest.

“My turn to make you feel good,” she whispered against his skin, Yoongi gathering up her hair and placing it over one of her shoulders.

Teasingly, she ran a fingertip over the little trail of hair leading into the waistband of his sweats, Yoongi releasing a breathy sigh while she mouthed along his neck.

“Baby,” Yoongi stiffened at the sensation of her tits pressing against his chest, groaning. She took him completely by surprise by dipping her hand into his sweats, hand wrapping around his cock through his boxers. “Fuck!”

“Big,” Y/N commented, in awe, experimentally tracing the length of him through his boxers, smirking at the wet patch by his tip. “Want you in my mouth.”

“Holy–” Yoongi’s eyes rolled back, not expecting his sweet little girl to have such dirty thoughts about him. Grumbling at the barrier between her and his cock, Y/N shucked off his sweats, taking his boxers with them.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, watching his cock spring up and hit his lower abdomen, and Y/N swore she had never seen one so pretty. Chest heaving, Yoongi was staring at her with utter shock, gripping the couch with whitened knuckles.

Without hesitating, she wrapped her hand around the base of him, a groan coming from the leopard hybrid, Y/N watching with rapt interest as precum leaked from his tip, swiping her finger through it and licking it off of the digit, Yoongi letting out a tortured moan. Humming at the taste of him, she wanted more, maintaining eye-contact with him as she brought him to her mouth, licking a similar, slow, long stripe up the underside of his cock, much like he had done when he was eating her pussy.

“Little tease,” Yoongi accused, his chest growing pinker by the moment, long hair sticking to his neck. Wanting him to eat his words, Y/N moved quickly, suckling the reddened tip of his cock into her mouth. “Y/N–!

Yoongi, again, gathered her hair in a fist, wrapping it around his wrist, his eyes slipping shut. Addicted to the sounds he was making and the look on his face, Y/N released him from his mouth, and in a moment of pure confidence, spat on his cock for more lubrication. Yoongi, swearing under his breath, writhed on the couch, Y/N having mercy on him and angling him back into her mouth, taking him deeper this time. Swirling her tongue around his tip, Yoongi moaning and pulling at her hair, she stroked what she couldn’t fit in her mouth with a free hand.

“What the fuck– hngh, sweetheart,” Yoongi managed between pants, eyebrows pulled together in pleasure. “Who knew you could be so naughty? Fuck, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

Y/N wanted that too, giving him her best pleading look, Yoongi pushing a hand through his hair with a humorless chuckle.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, my perfect girl,” Yoongi thrusted his hips upwards, Y/N gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat with the tip of his cock, holding her head in place by her hair as he fucked into her. “Letting me do all these things to you…”

Y/N could already feel her thighs getting slicked up again, thanks to the filth flying from her lover’s mouth, resisting the urge to touch herself to the show he was giving her. After one particularly deep thrust, Y/N purposefully swallowing around him, eyes watering, Yoongi tore himself from her throat, panting wildly.

Finding herself hauled up onto the couch by her wrists, Yoongi tore her panties off, the material actually ripping under the force, Yoongi kissing the wind out of her, his hands everywhere. Shuddering with him on top of her, slotted between her legs, Y/N began to ache, winded from his cock down her throat and how he was working his tongue against hers.

“Want to be inside you when I cum,” Yoongi growled into her ear, Y/N digging her nails into his back as she clung to him for dear life. “Are you…”

Sobering for a moment, Y/N realized what he was getting at, softening and pecking his lips gently.

“I have an IUD,” she told him, and once she did, he dropped back into his intense lust, kissing her deeply. Pressed together so tightly, Y/N didn’t know where her body ended and Yoongi’s began. “Please, Yoongi.”

Using a hand to brace his weight on the armrest above Y/N, she watched him grip the base of his cock, Y/N whimpering brokenly when he dragged the thick head through her folds, catching on her clit. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, mouth dropping open when he repeated the action three more times, her arousal clinging to his length.

“Fuck me,” Y/N begged when he brushed against her clit the fifth time, so crammed full of want it was starting to physically hurt. “Please, baby, I need you.”

Yoongi stiffened, catching the tear rolling down her cheek, deciding to stop teasing her, for now. Besides, if he held off any longer, he was worried his dick would fall off. Positioning himself, he lowered down to an elbow, caging her in, lips finding her as he pushed in, slowly at first.

Y/N keened into his mouth, biting down on the flesh of his lower lip, Yoongi breathing heavily at the sensation of her walls desperately trying to squeeze down on him. He went slow, not wanting to hurt her, but she took inch by inch in stride, sloppily kissing him back. Once his hips were flush with her, Y/N feeling herself frantically fluttering around his cock, she whined, long and reedy reaching up to grasp on Yoongi’s necklace.

“So tight,” Yoongi snarled through gritted teeth, taking everything in him to not pound her into the couch with the way she was clenching down on him, and the wrecked look on her beautiful face.

“Y-yoongi,” Y/N felt him brush away the tear that had tracked down her cheek. “Move, please move!”

Pulling out until there was only about an inch of him still inside her, Yoongi rolled his hips forward, setting a slow, but hard pace to start, Y/N clawing at his back every time her body jerked back due to the force of the thrusts. She was moaning his name again, and Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever tire of that sound, burying his face into her neck and giving her yet another bruising bite.

“So fucking perfect, love you so much,” Yoongi was out of his mind, surrounded by the scent of her, and regretfully, he knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted to. In the back of his mind, however, he didn’t care– there would be plenty of other times he could draw out their pleasure. “Taking me so well… made for me. You’re mine. Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Yoongi couldn’t help himself, with the sounds she was making and the stinging sensation of her fingernails marking up his back, he sped up the pace, rutting into her with abandon. With the quicker pace, Y/N could hardly breathe, every cell in her body alight with pleasure, and it wasn’t long before she felt a second orgasm building low in her abdomen.

“Y-yoongi, you’re gonna– ah! You’re gonna m-make me cum again,” Y/N wailed brokenly, the leopard hybrid sitting up somewhat while still drilling into her, grasping either of her calves so he could fold her in half, ankles over his shoulders. The new angle had both of them moaning loudly, Y/N feeling him so deeply it was like he was in her throat again. “Ohhh my god, fuck!”

Yoongi was determined to get her off again, watching her face screw up in intense pleasure, affection and possession coming over him all of a sudden, turning his face slightly to kiss one of her ankles gently. Hand snaking down her sweaty body, his thumb found her clit again, easily slicking it up and rubbing firm circles around the bundle, Y/N actually screaming at the sensation.

“Gonna cum, love?” Yoongi egged her on, his balls tightening as he raced towards his own finish. “Come on, you can do it. Let go, baby.”

Capturing one of her nipples between his teeth, that was all it took, Y/N coming even harder than she did previously, clamping down on his cock so tightly he gasped, feeling her pussy drench his length. She had her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, convulsing in his arms. It was undoubtedly the sexiest thing he had ever seen, his cock throbbing inside of her as he slowed the pace of his thrusts a bit, the hand that was working her over coming up to rest over her throat. He didn’t squeeze, but the weight of it prolonged Y/N’s orgasm, tears spilling over her cheeks uncontrollably.

“That’s it, take it,” Yoongi cooed, his hips stuttering as he found himself getting close. “Fuck, gonna fill you up.”

Remarkably, he felt her cunt clench around him again, Y/N’s eyes going wide at the thought of him cumming inside of her. Yoongi bit his lip, kissing her sloppily once more, his thrusts becoming irregular in their beat.

“Ooh, you liked that, huh? Want my cum?” Yoongi’s voice was so gravelly, Y/N shuddered at the sound of it nodding, she reached for his hair, and before he could stop her, Y/N’s fingertips pressed firmly into the base of his ear. “Oh, f-fuck…”

Yoongi went still, pushing himself inside of her as far as he could go, dropping his face into Y/N’s neck as he came, spurt after spurt warming Y/N’s insides, whimpering weakly at the foreign sensation, and perhaps enjoying it a little too much. Y/N was shocked at the sheer volume of it, her pussy a bit battered and tender. For a moment, all they did was catch their breaths, Yoongi collapsed heavily on top of her, Y/N weakly stroking through his damp hair, inhaling the smell of his cologne. Still tucked into her neck, Yoongi was purring with content, giving the skin tiny, tender kisses.

“I love you,” Y/N was the first to speak, realizing she hadn’t said it back to him in quite some time, soothingly running her hands down his back, over the raised scratch marks she had given him. “I think you broke me, though.”

Yoongi chuckled tiredly into her skin, lifting his head so he could peck her cheek.

“You’ll be alright,” Yoongi insisted, his face flushed as if he was flustered. “I love you, too.”

Cock softening inside of her, Y/N winced as Yoongi carefully pulled out, giving her sides gentle, reassuring squeezes. Squeaking at the sudden overstimulation of Yoongi’s fingers inside of her, she grabbed his wrist, not ready yet for another round. Yoongi halted, raising an eyebrow, Y/N opening her mouth– to find it effectively shut, Yoongi’s cum-coated fingers shoved inside. Bewildered, she tasted the combination of their releases on her tongue, Yoongi smirking down at her.

“Mmph–”

“What? I thought you said you wanted my cum?” Yoongi teased, a wicked gleam to his hazel eyes. “We should get you cleaned up, though.”

Once Y/N sucked his fingers clean, he pulled them from her mouth, sealing it with a kiss to her upper lip.

“Can’t move,” Y/N complained, feeling boneless. “What about the others? It’s not like I can stroll out of here looking like this.”

“I’ll check to make sure no one’s up here. You can throw on my boxers and shirt, and I’ll carry you to my room, you can shower in my bathroom,” Yoongi helped Y/N sit up, dressing her like a paper doll in his henley, and helping her shimmy into his boxers, Y/N grimacing at the sloppiness between her legs.

After he pulled his sweats back on, Y/N watched him head to the door, unlocking it and peeking his head outside, ears alert as he listened for any of the others. Y/N took the opportunity to ogle his bare back, the pale, perfect skin marred with red scrapes.

Yoongi made his way back to her after a moment, collecting Y/N in his arms and carrying her like a baby koala out of the music room, apparently no one else was upstairs, and he deemed it safe to walk around in their post-sex apparel. Gently, he set Y/N down on her unstable feet, her eyes suddenly going wide with horror when she remembered something important.

“Wait, didn’t you say I made a mess? Shouldn’t I clean that up before someone sees?” Y/N panicked, Yoongi’s eyes scrunching up as he laughed at her, covering his mouth.

“Yeah, there’s a puddle on the floor,” Yoongi told her, Y/N blanching in mortification. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll clean it up after we shower. No one goes in there but us, and Taehyung’s been locked up in the office all day.”

“I-if you’re sure,” Y/N mumbled, still humiliated. Yoongi simply shook his head, leading her into his en-suite, with their hands tangled together, turning on the shower tap.

She let him strip her again, but this time it felt sweet and domestic, holding her hand as he helped her into the shower, Y/N sighing at the hot water sliding down her back. He was quick to follow, letting her hold onto his shoulders as he used a soft, fresh face cloth to mop up the mess they had made between her thighs. Once that was squared away, Yoongi lathered up his loofah with body wash, both taking turns washing each other’s skin, Yoongi even washing Y/N’s hair for her with his spiced vanilla shampoo. Y/N felt like she was glowing, floating, dreaming. She had never felt so cherished in her life, Yoongi gently combing conditioner through her hair, both of them wrapped up in comfortable silence.

After the shower, Y/N giggled when the leopard hybrid bundled her up in a fluffy towel, picking out a pair of his sweatpants and a cozy tee-shirt for her to put on. Once he was dressed, he left the bathroom with a few cleaning supplies to take care of the… mess, Y/N using his hair dryer in the meantime. Her eyelids felt heavy, fatigue taking over after Yoongi pretty much fucked her brains out, waiting for him on the end of his bed. He returned shortly thereafter with a trash bag, shooting her a wink.

“Wanna take a nap? You look beat,” Yoongi peeled his comforter back, motioning for Y/N to crawl into his bed.

“After all of that? Of course I look beat,” Y/N retorted, though crawling across the bed anyways and getting cozy. There was no way she was missing out on that opportunity. “Come here, take a nap with me till dinner.”

Snorting at her grabby hands, Yoongi shuffled around the bed, collapsing on his back and dragging Y/N close so she could rest her head on his steadily-purring chest. Completely content at that moment, Y/N traced shapes over Yoongi’s chest, his arms around her securely.

“So, hybrid ears are really sensitive,” Y/N teased, Yoongi pinching her hip in response. “Duly noted.”

“Go to sleep,” Yoongi grumbled, Y/N laughing freely into his chest, but obediently closing her eyes.

“Love you,” Y/N reminded him, cozy under his big comforter and in his strong arms.

“Mm, too,” Yoongi replied, though it sounded like he was already half-asleep. Grinning to herself, she nuzzled into his chest, falling into a similarly peaceful sleep.

If her other hybrids knew anything about what had gone down between her and Yoongi, none of them said a word about it, even when Y/N winced in the mirror at the colorful bites decorating her neck. Dinner was pretty normal, even when Y/N showed up dressed in Yoongi’s clothes, probably smelling like him overwhelmingly so.

The next day, she had a bunch of running around to do, dropping Yoongi and Hoseok off at the rec center for morning practice, picking up groceries by herself, and standing in the DMV for two hours waiting to fill out applications for Namjoon, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi to get their driver’s licenses. By the time she made it back from the city after picking Yoongi and Hoseok up, it was already evening, the sun disappearing behind the house.

While the two hybrids who had practice left her at the door to wash up, she cocked her head, hearing loud, jazzy music coming from the parlor. Curiosity taking over her, she headed in that direction. The fire was blazing, and Y/N stopped short when she assessed the scene in front of her: Youtube was playing jazz music videos on the flatscreen, the couch was messy like someone had been laying on it all day, and there was a half-drunk bottle of gin on the table with an empty tumbler. Y/N bought that gin the previous day, which made her nervous to see who had plowed through half of it.

Right on cue, someone stumbled in from the entrance to the kitchen, tread clumsy and heavy. Whipping her head around, she saw Taehyung, pink in the face, dressed messily in a hoodie and sweats, drunker than he had ever been.

“Oh, you’re back,” Taehyung noticed her standing there in shock, his eyes half-shut and his speech slurred. “Nice. Listening to music.”

“Jesus Christ, Tae,” Y/N lurched forward to catch him before he stumbled over a pillow strewn onto the floor. “You’re not a big drinker, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Wanted a drink,” Taehyung yanked his forearm from her grasp, pouring gin straight into the tumbler and downing a shot. Hissing, Y/N grabbed the bottle, stashing it on the bar cart with her hands on her hips. “Wasn’ done, Y/N.”

Taehyung complained, frowning deeply at her. Cringing at the loud saxophone coming from behind her, she used the remote to turn the volume down, turning around to see Taehyung stalking towards her.

“You’re ready to talk to me now that you’re shitfaced?” Y/N asked, peeved that he let himself get to that state, and even more peeved that he was giving her the silent treatment.

A shadow crossed over Taehyung’s face, Y/N realizing he was backing her up against the wall, a palm coming to settle on the drywall beside her face. Gulping, the strong scent of botanical gin washing over her as Taehyung got in her face, she blinked at him nervously, not used to the ticked-off look he was giving her.

“What’s there to talk about, Y/N?” Taehyung responded, sounding a touch more sober now.

“Why are you so angry?” Y/N breathed, Taehyung’s eyes flickering down to her mouth, a thumb coming up to pull down on her lower lip. Heart going positively still in her chest, she felt panic flood through her, not wanting anything like that happening between them while he was in such a state. However, she couldn’t move a muscle when he neared closer to her mouth, but a breath away.

“Tae, you’re drunk–”

Y/N heard stomping coming into the room, and she saw a familiar hand wrapped around Taehyung’s arm, forcefully pulling him away from Y/N’s space. Yoongi, his hair dripping wet, was standing there with his jaw tense. Taehyung blinked, realization dawned on him, and without another word, he stormed out of the room.

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