#but I don’t know if this would have gone well.

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x fem reader)

You had always been their sweetheart.

Soft, tender, and gentle- the heart of their home. The warmth in the spaces between them, the one they curled around after long days of violence, soothed by your touch and your voice, the way you cared for them without hesitation. No matter how much blood stained their hands, no matter what nightmares haunted their sleep, you were there. Unshaken. Unyielding in your love, hands gentle and soft as you cradled them close and warm.

So they had never needed to know about the things you kept buried.

The past you refused to unearth. The things you could do, the person you had been before them- before you had a home to call your own, before you had people who held you just as carefully as you held them.

They didn’t need to know, and you didn’t need to think about it.

Until they went missing.

You first learned something was wrong when John’s daily check-in didn’t come.

It had always been a habit of his, something he did without fail, no matter how far away he was. Just to let you know I’m breathing, love. That was what he had said, years ago, the first time he had explained it to you. You had teased him for it- What, you don’t trust me to not burn the house down?- but he had only smiled, voice steady and sure when he told you, I like knowing you’re safe.

It had never failed. Not once. Even when he himself could not text you, Lasswell herself assured you they were fine and merely had to be careful.

But now came the silence.

No messages. No calls. No updates.

You tried not to panic. They were on a mission, after all. Maybe something had gone wrong with their comms, or maybe they had been forced to go dark, and Lasswell was busy. It had happened before, and they had always come back to you, whole and alive, pressing their faces into your neck, murmuring apologies and reassurances.

But then a full week passed.

Then two.

And no one would tell you a thing and Lasswell wasn’t picking up, either.

You had tried- had called, had knocked on doors, had pushed until you were met with polite deflections and stone-cold refusals.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but that information is classified.”

“There’s nothing we can share at this time.”

“We appreciate your patience.”

Patience.

As if you would sit here, helpless, and just wait. Hopeless, and helpless, and unable to do a single thing to help then.

No. No, you had done that before. You had waited before. And it had cost you everything.

You weren’t that girl anymore. You weren’t a victim of circumstance, hoping for scraps of kindness, praying for someone to do right by you.

If no one would help, you would do it yourself; because they were yours, and they were the best thing that have ever happened to you, and you weren’t going to lose them.

Tracking them down was easier than you expected.

You had spent years curating the image of someone soft and harmless, someone not worth keeping secrets from. And people loved to talk. Especially when they thought you were just a grieving, desperate woman trying to find a lost fiancé and his friends.

All it had taken was a few well-placed words, a few tearful looks, and doors had opened.

It had taken only days to pinpoint their last known location, then. After you’d hunted down Laswell, and had her help you. Though you were glad to see that she was working to find out where they were, as well, and merely lacked the manpower because of some general named Shepherd.

You filed the name away for later thoughts.

A warlord with connections to arms smuggling in Eastern Europe. An old base, abandoned by one regime and taken over by another. And your men had been sent in to dismantle it.

But they hadn’t come back. MIA, the reports said.

You didn’t think. You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t care for those three letters. You moved.

You gathered supplies, mapped out your route, planned your approach with the precision of someone who had done it before. You emptied old caches, dusted off weapons you hadn’t touched in years, and set off.

The infiltration was clean; a single shadow among many, slipping between patrols, cutting down obstacles with silent, brutal efficiency. Years it may have been, you hadn’t gotten as rusty as you’d feared you’d be.

You had never been squeamish. You had learned long ago that softness had no place in survival- but it could thrive and bloom in the aftermath, a stubborn weed that eventually makes way for a full bouquet.

But this was different.

This was fury burning in your blood as you carved a path forward, every movement precise- you couldn’t afford any less.

You didn’t stop, no matter what.

Not until you found them at last, and your heart ached something fierce abd sharp in your chest.

Caged. Beaten. Bound but not broken- and drugged.

I should have been more rough, you mourn for a split second. An easy death was more mercy than what was deserved.

John’s head lifted first, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Love-?”

Then Simon, bloodied but breathing, his body sluggish with whatever chemicals they had pumped into him. Every part of him was covered in blood and cuts.

Johnny’s voice, then, hoarse and raw, full of disbelief and worry. “No. No, you’re not- this insnae real-“

And Kyle, whose breath hitched as you knelt beside him, gentle fingers brushing against his bruised face.

They thought they were dreaming; they thought you weren’t real.

And maybe that was a… mercy.

Because if they had been clear-headed, if they had seen what you had done to get here, if they had watched the way you had cut down anyone in your path with merciless efficiency-

They would have looked at you differently.

And you couldn’t bear that. To have their illusion of your gentleness shattered like that…

So you played along.

Whispered reassurances, pressed kisses to sweat-damp foreheads, untied their bindings with careful hands. You coaxed them to move, guided them through the corridors you’d emptied, wiped away the blood that dripped from their skinz

And when they sagged against you, too dazed to fight, too lost in the haze of their drugged delirium, you held them-

Kept them safe, and brought them home.

Later, they woke in a hospital, clean and stitched and safe.

You were already there, fussing over them, your voice soft and sweet, your fingers gentle as you pressed cool cloths to fever-warm skin, brushed stray curls from foreheads, adjusted pillows and blankets with quiet determination. Dressed in something white and pink, the colors of innocence, nails cleaned of blood even if your hands will never be truly clean.

You looked the same as ever.

Pretty and delicate, their lovely girl, their tender-hearted sweetheart.

And for all that had happened, all that they had suffered, all that you had done-

They never suspected a single thing, and you didn’t tell them; didn’t tell them that there had been no extraction team. That there had been no grand military rescue- not even from the the same military that had abandoned them.

(His name was General Shepherd. You will not forget it- you’d need to carve his name on the bullet you’ll save just for him, after all.)

That it had been you.

Only you.

Only Laswell knew the truth, and she would keep your secret because she understood what it meant to protect the people you loved.

And if you had to carry this weight alone to keep them from ever looking at you like you were something other-

So be it.

You sat beside John, pressing a kiss to his temple as his fingers curled weakly around yours.

You smiled at Simon when his hand brushed against your knee, seeking reassurance, seeking you, his eyes tired.

You let Johnny hold you, his arms tight around your waist as he mumbled something unintelligible against your shoulder, still half-lost in the remnants of the drugs.

And when Kyle murmured: “At leas’ you’re safe, pretty.” His voice thick with sleep-

You just smiled and ran your fingers carefully through his hair, and held them the way you always had.

And pretended that everything was exactly the same.

[cathnospam]

Deku watched you and Bakugo fucking and haven’t looked at you both the same way since.

Deku KNOWS what sex is, he knows after years of being with other sexually active people and living with other women he has been sexually attracted to, and eventually hormones were bound to take place in everybody in class 3-a and it would be another added topic of discussion after high school graduation.

HE even lost his virginity to Ochako not too long ago.

It was different seeing you both though.

Neither you or Bakugo through out the years seemed interested in anybody, any man that flirted with you, you either brushed them off or completely ignored and Bakugo, despite how pretty he CAN look his attitude usually scare women away, and whether he acknowledges it or not he can be pretty dense so everybody concluded you both aren’t into the dating scene.

It seemed so normal between you both until last night.

When he seen Bakugo in between your thighs.

HE DIDNT MEAN TO WATCH HE SWEARS, but he went to look for his notebook he left in your dorm after a study session and heard your door unlock with Bakugo’s loud mouth ass grumbling for you to hurry up.

Out of panic he fled to your closet and hid there, he doesn’t know why he did, he wasn’t snooping or doing anything wrong, plus bakugo and you trust him enough to freely walk into their dorms, but too late he’s stuck now.

“You’re so needy. And stop poking me with that thing—ah-“

“Mmhm. Shut up.” Bakugo grumbles into your neck, from behind, practically pushing you inside with each thrust of his dick. “Y’pissed me off today.”

“Don’t I always—-AAAOWW—MMHPH!”

Your smart remarks get muffled with a harsh hot smack to the ass and a kiss, it definitely sounded like it hurt to Deku, but he watched in shock seeing him caress your ass under your skirt.

His green eyes grew twice its size, Bakugo had lifted off your shirt, and began his attack on your neck and cheek while he undid his belt with one hand, “Fuck you smell good.”

Throwing off his black tank top and laying you on the bed, “You taste even better though.”

The mixed sounds of your giggles and moans as his lips puncture your skin from your neck down to your tits to suckle on made Deku reluctantly twist his legs,

He was getting hard.

He never viewed you in this way, yes, you were a beautiful woman, but after knowing you since middle school his crushes towards you have came and gone eventually developing into a brother and sister relationship.

….but it may change now.

“Oh ‘Suki~” You sigh softly, tilting your head to the side to get a good look at your nasty Blondie. His nose resting atop of your pussy as his lips were wrapped around your tiny clit, you felt the ministration of the back and forth suckles which made your jaw slack.

Deku looked away reluctantly, covering his eyes feeling some guilt. This was a private matter between you both, even if it was a shock he still felt like he was intruding. And boy he tried.

He tried so hard to just keep his eyes closed until you both were finished, but the noises you made not only drove Bakugo insane , but him as well.

“Mmhm.” Katsuki groaned in content inside you, hearing your voice get higher and your breaths get more ragged he knew you were close ,”Mmhm that’s it. That’s it baby c’mon—“

“BABY?!”

Deku thought this was insane to hear, never have he EVER heard Mr. Hardass to ever speak…so sweetly to you?

His big green eyes peaked through the closet door shades , covering his mouth as he almost gasped seeing Bakugo press your thighs back to eat you further, “Fuck…”

Bakugo couldn’t ignore his hard on for long.

And neither could Deku.

“I love your moutthhhhh.” You half moaned half giggled feeling yourself grow closer while your back was arching. Bakugo’s pride always was sky high when he fucked you. And somehow you saying that made Deku….jealous? Just a little, but he couldn’t focus on that too long.

You looked so sexy when you’re cumming, your little cute fingers playing with your nipples. The way you hips buck into Bakugo’s mouth, how soft and whiney your voice gets when you’re crying his name.

Next thing you know Deku’s hands were palming his growing errection.

Nononono he can’t. He can’t get off to his best friends, it’s ….dirty. Bakugo would kill him and you might feel disgusted with him.

But Deku’s mind wasn’t in tandem with his body because his hand was already inside his pants.

“Ssssshit girl I didn’t tell you—-“

“Don’t care.” You words muffled as you lay on your stomach between his thighs, capturing his tip between your lips to suck on . You giggle and moan when you feel a warm hand slap against your ass.

The way how you nearly could take him all in was such a turn on to Deku. You’re the same girl that was just choking on a noodle earlier today at lunch, but now you’re taking in Bakugo’s dick like a champ.

“Fuck…” Deku couldn’t help it his fingers teased his own tip, precum already enough to lube his shaft while he matches the pace of your bobbing head.

Your boyfriend began to massage your ass a little, groaning your name in frustration because he was already so close to cumming, “You and that fucking tongue…”

The green haired boy was also close, watching you made him wish it was him instead of his own best friend you were sucking off.

How many times have you done this with him? Was it yesterday when you both left class? Was it those times you both went to bed early? Deku kept rethinking all those times you both were alone and it was nearly too much he almost took away his own orgasm, so he pumped his dick faster to the view of Bakugo’s fingers slipping inside your soaked cunt.

Who wouldn’t thought he’d be spending his evening cumming with his best friends.

You and Bakugo were spent. It wasn’t unusual, being pro hero’s in training a night of just oral would sometimes just be enough.

That wasn’t enough for Deku thought he though,

“No no no don’t go to sleep!”

He watched as you and your boyfriend cuddled naked on top of the covers, breathing still heavy, his big hands grabbed your chin so you can turn and face him to taste yourself on his tongue.

“‘Suki…” you breathed feeling him lift your thigh over his legs, he didn’t even have to move that much to already his dick press against your clit.

“Sssh sssh shhh. Just lay down and take it okay? I got you.” His breathing was heavy, though he was exhausted he just couldn’t stop here and he knew you were too so he didn’t mind fucking you while you were half sleep and on your side.

And luckily, Deku had a front view of it, your pussy spreading from the size of his dick, you were doing so good taking him in.

He started to stroke himself again, he was still so sensitive from just cumming, he couldn’t stop though your voice was so fucking attractive all on its own, “S’goooddd~”

Despite the deep long strokes, your boyfriend was so gentle with making sure he wasn’t too rough, leaving you more sore than you already were in the morning. He nibbled and sucked on your neck, he tried so hard not to moan, he hated how he sounded when he did, but the way your soft fat ass kept bouncing on his pelvis he couldn’t help it and it made you clench harder.

“Just like that baby just cum all on me…there you go..fuck—“

This was just too lewd, but at this point your little best friend didn’t care, he was gnawing on his lips, eyes focused on the sight of your pussy and your eyes rolling back while your boyfriend was in your ear talking oh so dirty to you about your body, your pussy, your moaning. It didn’t take long until you felt that familiar knot.

“Oh shit shit shit shit!” Deku thought, he was close too but he knew it was ganna be messier this time, but he couldn’t stop himself he wanted to cum too right there with you both.

Bakugo’s thrust got sloppier and shallow, catching his own orgasm to join you (and Deku). He covered your mouth with his free hand because you usually get loud when you cum on his cock. But fuck that he kissed you instead to swallow your moans.

Grinding inside you, all three of you came. It was honestly the best and scariest orgasm Deku’s ever had with just his hand. Best from his front row seat view, scariest because he was afraid Bakugo heard you moan your name from the closet.

He swore he did from when he looked up in that direction while you were still on cloud 9, but maybe that was just his imagination.

Maybe.

You both were finally asleep. You laid on top of him, buried in his neck, and Blondie facing the window holding you tight, Deku decided to make it his mission to quietly leave.

There are many secrets Izuku had to keep in his life, but this was one he knew he had to keep for the sake of KEEEPING HIS LIFE.

But it didn’t stop the new view he had towards you both.

Who would’ve thought you both were his new Jack off material.

[rmview]

crushing on you, ATEEZ.

featuring — ateez members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — an imagine of what the ateez boys are like when they have a crush on you (moments where their feelings shine)!

contents — fluff, no warnings.

hong ⊹ joong

hongjoong is one who tries to play it cool, but his crush on you is increasingly obvious through the little things he does.

it starts with how he’ll always offer to help you with your creative projects. “need help brainstorming ideas?” he’d casually ask, even if he was buried in deadlines for ateez’s next album. when you hesitated, worried about wasting his time, hongjoong would reassure you with his signature grin. “don’t worry. creative energy comes back tenfold when i’m around you.”

then there are his thoughtful gestures. during a movie night with the group, you mentioned offhandedly that you loved a specific snack from a bakery across town. the next day, hongjoong casually hands you a bag of those snacks, acting as if it was no big deal. “i passed by the bakery on my way here,” he said, but you caught the faint blush creeping up his neck when you thanked him with a warm smile.

his crush shines brightest during practice sessions. if you stop by the studio, hongjoong will suddenly become hyperaware of your presence. he’ll glance your way between moves, a small smile tugging at his lips whenever he caught your gaze. his energy would shift — he’d dance with more precision, his voice more vibrant as he rapped or sang, almost as if trying to impress you.

one evening, after practice, you complimented him. “you’re so dedicated, hongjoong. it’s inspiring to watch.”

hongjoong froze for a moment before chuckling softly, scratching the back of his neck. “it’s easy to work hard when the right person’s watching.” his words slipped out before he could stop them, and he quickly looked away, his cheeks burning red.

you laughed, your voice light and teasing. “who’s the lucky person?”

hongjoong’s lips quirked up into a smile, but he didn’t answer directly. instead, he picked up his notebook and pretended to jot something down. “maybe you’ll figure it out one day.”

seong ⊹ hwa

seonghwa’s crush on you is evident in the way he pays attention to the smallest details about you. while others might call him a perfectionist, with you, it wasn’t just about doing things well — it was about making sure everything he did for you was flawless.

whenever the group invited you over, seonghwa will quietly take charge of ensuring the space was comfortable for you. “the lighting’s too harsh,” he’d mutter, adjusting the lamps until they cast a warm glow. if he knows your favorite snacks, he’ll make sure they were prominently placed on the coffee table. “oh, these? i just picked them up randomly,” he’d lie, hiding how he’d gone out of his way to find them.

his crush also comes through in his protectiveness. if you were out together with the group, seonghwa is the one subtly checking to make sure you were warm enough or have a drink in hand. one rainy evening, you forgot your umbrella, and seonghwa immediately offered his. “i don’t mind getting wet,” he said, though you noticed how he pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he walked beside you.

during a late-night karaoke session, seonghwa’s feelings slipped through his usually calm demeanor. when it was his turn to sing, he chose a ballad — a soft, emotional song about unspoken love. his eyes flicked toward you as he sang, the raw emotion in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

afterward, you clapped enthusiastically. “that was beautiful, seonghwa. you put so much feeling into it.”

he smiled shyly, looking down at his lap. “it’s easier to feel a song when there’s someone… special in mind,” he admitted softly, his voice barely audible over the music.

yun ⊹ ho

yunho’s crush on you is impossible to miss, given his naturally outgoing and playful personality. he isn’t shy about spending time with you, often using humor and charm to mask how nervous he actually is around you.

he’ll find excuses to be near you during group hangouts. if you are sitting on the couch, yunho will plop down next to you, grinning as he stretched his long legs. “hope you don’t mind me stealing some of your personal space,” he’d tease, his tone light but his gaze lingering on you just a second too long.

yunho’s crush is also evident in his habit of subtly showing off around you. whether it is effortlessly spinning a basketball on his finger or nailing a complex dance move during practice, he’ll always glance your way afterward to see if you were impressed. when you compliment him, his grin will widen, and he’d laugh it off. “ah, it’s nothing. just a little something i’ve been practicing.”

one day, while the group was playing video games, yunho handed you the controller and coached you through the game. “here, press this button — no, not that one!” he laughed as your character stumbled on-screen. his hand covered yours briefly to guide you, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on his cheeks.

later that evening, yunho found himself alone with you as the others stepped out. “i have fun when you’re around,” he said suddenly, his usual playful tone replaced with sincerity.

“me too,” you replied, smiling warmly at him.

for a moment, yunho considered confessing, but instead, he just grinned and nudged your shoulder. “good. then i’ll keep making sure you have fun.”

yeo ⊹ sang

yeosang’s crush on you isn’t as overt as some of the others — it is in the quiet moments, the subtle glances, and the small gestures that spoke volumes if you were paying attention. he isn’t the type to shout his feelings from the rooftops, but that doesn’t mean his emotions aren’t strong.

he always seems to notice the little things about you. if you mention being cold, yeosang will quietly drape his jacket over your shoulders without a word. when you compliment a particular drink once, he makes a mental note and starts bringing it to you whenever he has the chance. “i thought you might like this,” he’ll say casually, but his lips would twitch into a small, satisfied smile when you accept it with a grin.

yeosang’s crush would shine through during group activities. if you are participating in a game or challenge, he’ll subtly cheer you on, his quiet encouragement just for your ears. “you’ve got this,” he’d say, his tone calm but sincere, his eyes lighting up when you succeed.

one evening, while everyone was busy chatting, you caught yeosang watching you. when you met his gaze, he quickly looked away, his ears turning pink. later, he approached you with a hesitant smile. “you look really happy tonight,” he said softly.

you laughed lightly. “i am. it’s nice being here with everyone.”

yeosang’s expression softened. “it’s nice when you’re here, too,” he admitted, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t catch it. before you could respond, someone called his name, and he quickly excused himself, leaving you wondering if you’d heard him correctly.

san ⊹

san’s crush on you is impossible to miss — he wears his heart on his sleeve, and his feelings shine through in everything he does. he isn’t shy about being affectionate, always finding ways to be close to you, whether it is playfully slinging an arm around your shoulders or giving you a big, warm hug just because he can.

he was your biggest cheerleader, always hyping you up no matter what. “you’re amazing, you know that?” he’d say with a bright smile, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. if you ever doubted yourself, san was the first to reassure you. “you’ve got this. i believe in you more than anyone else.”

san’s crush also manifested in his protectiveness. if you were out together, he’d instinctively walk on the side closest to the street or make sure you were comfortable. one time, when someone made an offhand comment that upset you, san was quick to defend you, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a rare intensity. “hey, watch it,” he said firmly, his jaw tight as he stood by your side.

during a quiet moment at a group hangout, san handed you a small, handmade bracelet. “i made this for you,” he said, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“you made this?” you asked, surprised.

he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, i thought it’d suit you.”

when you put it on and smiled at him, san’s grin stretched from ear to ear, his heart practically melting at how radiant you looked.

min ⊹ gi

mingi’s crush on you is both endearing and awkward — his feelings make him nervous, but he can’t help the way he lights up whenever you were around. he’ll stumble over his words sometimes, his usual confidence replaced with a shy energy that only seems to surface when he is with you.

“hey, uh… how’s it going?” he’d ask, his voice a little higher than usual. if you teased him about being nervous, mingi would laugh it off, scratching the back of his head. “me? nervous? nah, i’m just… uh, thinking about something.”

his crush shows in the way he always tries to make you laugh. whether it is cracking silly jokes, pulling exaggerated faces, or doing a random dance move, mingi loves seeing you smile. “there it is!” he’d say triumphantly whenever you laugh, his own laughter following shortly after.

one time, while the group was practicing, you walked into the room, and mingi immediately straightened up, putting extra energy into his moves. he’d steal glances at you between steps, his lips quirking up into a proud grin when he noticed you watching.

later, when everyone was taking a break, mingi handed you a water bottle. “you must be thirsty after watching us, huh?” he joked, though his cheeks flushed as you accepted it.

“thanks, mingi. you’re really thoughtful,” you said with a warm smile.

his eyes widened slightly, and he looked away, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “ah, it’s nothing. i just… i like making you happy.”

mingi’s honesty caught you off guard, but before you could respond, he jumped up, clapping his hands. “alright! back to practice!” he said, his voice a little too loud, clearly trying to cover up his embarrassment.

woo ⊹ young

wooyoung’s crush on you is impossible to miss — it radiates from him in the way he teases you, how his voice softens when he says your name, and the subtle yet intentional ways he finds to touch you. he is naturally flirty, but with you, his charm carries an extra layer of sincerity that he can’t hide no matter how hard he tries.

“are you blushing? don’t tell me you’re falling for me already,” he’ll tease, his signature grin lighting up his face. but the moment you tease him back, wooyoung’s confidence would falter just slightly. “i’m not blushing,” he’ll mutter, averting his gaze while his cheeks turn a telltale shade of pink.

wooyoung always finds ways to include you in the group’s activities, dragging you into dance challenges or asking for your opinion on his outfits. once, during a karaoke night, he deliberately picked a romantic ballad and sang it while making exaggerated gestures toward you, earning playful groans from the others. “what? i’m just serenading my biggest fan!” he’d joke, though the way his eyes linger on yours betrays his true feelings.

but beneath all the playfulness, wooyoung’s crush revealed itself in quieter, more thoughtful moments. when he noticed you were tired, he’d bring you snacks or offer you his jacket. “you take care of everyone else so much,” he said softly one evening, placing a warm drink in your hands. “let me take care of you for once.”

it was during one of these moments that his feelings slipped through more clearly. you had been talking about your day when wooyoung suddenly blurted out, “you’re seriously incredible, you know that?” he froze for a second, realizing what he’d said, and then quickly tried to cover it up with a laugh. “i mean, obviously — anyone with eyes can see it.”

though he tried to act nonchalant, the way he looked at you told a different story — one of someone utterly smitten and hopelessly drawn to you.

jong ⊹ ho

jongho’s crush on you is quieter but no less meaningful. he isn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but his actions always speaks louder than words. if he had a crush, it would show in the way he pays attention to you — remembering the little things you say, noticing when you are feeling off, and always being there to lend a hand.

“here,” he’d say, handing you your favorite drink before you even asked for it. when you looked at him in surprise, he’d shrug, a faint smile playing on his lips. “you mentioned it once. i thought you’d like it.”

jongho often finds himself stealing glances at you, his gaze softening whenever you aren’t looking. if you catch him, he’ll quickly look away, his ears turning red. “i wasn’t staring,” he’ll insist, his tone calm but the slight awkwardness in his voice betraying him.

when the group is together, jongho will naturally gravitate towards you, whether it is sitting next to you or offering to help you carry something. one time, during a group outing, you struggled to open a bottle, and jongho immediately stepped in. “give it here,” he said, easily twisting the cap off and handing it back to you.

“thanks, jongho,” you said, smiling up at him.

he nodded, his expression unreadable, though his ears were tinged pink. “it’s nothing. i just didn’t want you to hurt your hand.”

despite his reserved nature, jongho’s crush shines through in the rare moments he let his guard down. during a casual conversation, he suddenly said, “you’re different from anyone i’ve ever met.”

the comment caught you off guard. “different how?”

he hesitated for a moment before meeting your eyes, his gaze steady but gentle. “just… special. in a good way.” his words were simple, but the weight behind them made your heart flutter.

though he isn’t one for grand gestures, jongho’s quiet devotion and thoughtfulness makes it clear just how much he cares — without him ever having to say the words outright.

notes: i am so soft for them, it’s not a joke anymore

[stealvrth]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄

STARRING ... SPIDEY!J. JUNGKOOK X READER

WORD COUNT ... 9.0K

SUMMARY ... in which jungkook realises his heart is caught in your web.

NOTES/WARNINGS ... PATHETIC KOOK ALERT!! cringefail!jungkook, mostly pure fluff. unrequited(?) love if you blink. slow burn(?). unresolved crush. idk i had a lot of fun writing this tho!! not proofread, so there may be mistakes 🫣

jungkook doesn't know how to approach you.

he's seen you in passing countless times, walked your path because the two of you share the same class. he's considered saying hi, or asking if you need help with schoolwork, or literally doing anything else other than following you and staring like a creep.

the only genuine interaction the two of you have had was during freshman year when jungkook asked you to point out the lecture hall for chemistry, and you laughed and told him you were headed the same way — and just as lost as he was.

he thinks about that moment more often than he should. not because it was anything significant, but because it was the last time talking to you felt easy—effortless. before he let hesitation sink its claws into him, before he started overthinking every glance, every opportunity to speak.

now, jungkook just watches from a distance, caught somewhere between curiosity and cowardice. he wonders if you remember that day at all, if you ever think about him in passing the way he does you. probably not. he wouldn’t blame you.

still, the thought lingers. maybe tomorrow, he tells himself. maybe tomorrow he’ll say something.

jimin always makes fun of him for it, saying he’s fought villains before and yet one girl makes him shy?

“bro, you’ve literally been thrown through a building,” jimin snickers, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. “but god forbid you say hi to a girl in your chemistry class.”

jungkook rolls his eyes, staring down at his untouched burger. he doesn’t pay jimin’s teasing any mind—he never does. it’s easy for jimin to talk; he’s never had to hide a whole second life, never had to balance midterms with stopping armed robberies. he doesn’t get it.

(though, to be fair, jimin is right. jungkook has gone toe-to-toe with some of the worst criminals in the city. yet somehow, the idea of talking to you makes his palms sweat.)

“it’s not that simple,” he mutters, picking at the edge of his tray.

jimin snorts. “right, because saying ‘hey, what’s up?’ is way harder than getting launched off a bridge.”

jungkook groans, dragging a hand down his face. he doesn’t have a good rebuttal for that. mostly because jimin’s right, and he hates that.

“it’s different,” he insists, even though it really isn’t.

jimin raises an eyebrow. “how?”

jungkook opens his mouth, then closes it. then opens it again. “because—” he starts, but the words get stuck in his throat, tangled up in excuses that don’t make sense even to him.

jimin grins, sensing victory. “you’re scared of her,” he sings, dragging out the last word obnoxiously.

jungkook scowls. “i’m not scared of her.”

“you so are,” jimin laughs. “like, imagine this. you’re mid-battle, bad guy’s got you in a chokehold, and suddenly—boom! it’s her. she’s watching. do you still pull your usual show-off stunts, or do you fumble and get your ass kicked?”

jungkook doesn’t answer.

jimin gasps, slapping the table. “you’d fumble.”

“i would not.”

“you so would.”

jungkook glares at him, but it’s weak. because, again, jimin is right. jungkook has had guns pointed at his head, has dodged death more times than he can count, but somehow, the thought of you seeing him trip over his own feet is what keeps him up at night.

jimin waggles his brows. “just talk to her, dude. it’s not that deep.”

but it is. it is that deep. because talking to you is different. talking to you is real, not some masked-up alter ego that people only half-believe in. and if he messes up as spiderman, he can hide behind the suit. if he messes up as jungkook—well.

there’s no hiding from that.

jungkook stabs at his fries with unnecessary aggression. “it’s not that simple,” he mutters again, knowing full well jimin won’t let it go.

“bro, it’s literally that simple,” jimin says, leaning back in his chair like he’s exhausted by the sheer weight of jungkook’s awkwardness. “just go up to her, say—i dunno—‘hey, you dropped this’ or something, even if she didn’t. instant conversation starter.”

jungkook squints at him. “so, lie?”

“not lie,” jimin corrects, “strategically mislead. big difference.”

jungkook exhales through his nose. “you are the worst person i know.”

“and yet, i’m the only person willing to help your pathetic ass,” jimin grins, stealing one of jungkook’s fries.

jungkook should be used to this by now. the teasing, the dramatic reenactments of how he supposedly looks when he freezes up around you (jimin does this thing where he goes stiff as a board and stares blankly into space—it’s completely inaccurate, by the way). but today, it gets under his skin more than usual. maybe because he knows he’s been avoiding this for way too long.

“whatever,” jungkook grumbles, shoving jimin’s hand away from his tray. “it’s not like i have time for dating, anyway.”

jimin rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with it. “oh my god, it’s not about dating. just be normal for once. be her friend. say more than two words to her that aren’t ‘thanks’ or ‘sorry’ when you accidentally bump into her in the hallway.”

jungkook hates how easily jimin reads him. it’s not like he hasn’t considered all of this before. but the thing is—he’s not good at the whole “normal” thing. he doesn’t know how to balance both sides of his life, how to let himself want something outside of the web-slinging and late-night bruises.

because what if he lets you in, and you see everything? what if you see the real him, and you don’t like what’s underneath?

“just think about it,” jimin says, shoving back from the table and tossing his empty tray onto the pile near the trash. “but not too hard. your brain might overheat.”

“ha ha,” jungkook deadpans.

but later, when he’s walking home with his hands stuffed in his pockets, he thinks about it. he thinks about it way too hard.

today is the day. jungkook is going to do it. he’s going to walk up to you, give you his biggest award-winning smile, and he’s going to ask if you want to study together.

he’s going to do it. he’s going to do it.

he’s not going to do it.

because now you’re here—actually here, walking straight toward him, completely unaware that he’s been psyching himself up for this for the past fifteen minutes.

his heart stumbles over itself.

he keeps walking, like a normal person. normal people walk. normal people breathe. normal people don’t panic just because the girl they like is getting closer with every step.

you’re looking at your phone, scrolling absentmindedly, your brows pulling together in a way that makes jungkook wonder what you’re thinking about. your bag is slung over one shoulder, earbuds in, and you look—god, you look good. not in some over-the-top, magazine-cover way, but in the kind of way that makes his stomach feel weird and his feet feel heavier than they should.

he was not prepared for this.

his brain short-circuits. every pre-planned conversation starter he practiced disappears into the void. his feet slow down before he can stop them.

he’s close enough now that he could just say something. one word. one syllable. literally anything.

you look up.

jungkook stops breathing.

and then, like the complete disaster he is, he stops walking altogether.

which is unfortunate, because you don’t.

he realizes his mistake half a second too late, just as you get close enough that you nearly crash into him. nearly—because at the last second, you sidestep smoothly, like it’s no big deal, like you totally meant to almost collide with him just to keep things interesting.

and then you smile.

“oh! hey, jungkook!”

your voice is bright, cheery, like this is just another normal interaction between two normal classmates, not the catastrophic event jungkook’s body is currently treating it as.

his brain goes static. you said his name. you’re smiling at him. did you always smile at him like that? did the hallway lights always make you look this—

“you okay?” you ask, tilting your head. “you kinda just froze.”

jungkook blinks. Words. Say words.

“I—uh.”

good start. solid foundation.

you don’t seem fazed by his awkwardness. instead, you just grin and shift your bag higher on your shoulder. “what’s up? where are you headed?”

this is it. this is his chance. the perfect opportunity to say something cool, something casual, something that doesn’t make him sound like he’s barely holding it together.

jungkook swallows. “library.”

…right. just one word. like a total weirdo.

but somehow, you don’t seem to notice, nodding along like that was a perfectly normal response. “same! i have a psych paper due, but i was procrastinating, so now i have to power through. you too?”

jungkook should say something. something about school, or studying, or—oh, right, the reason he even stopped you in the first place.

ask her to study. ask her to study.

his mouth opens. what comes out instead is:

“you look… happy.”

he immediately wants to throw himself into the sun.

you laugh—this surprised, airy sound that makes jungkook’s chest feel tight. “thanks? i try.”

he nods. good. cool. nailed it.

(jimin is going to clown him so hard for this.)

you shift your weight, still standing in front of him like you’re actually waiting for him to contribute something meaningful to this conversation. like he’s capable of that right now.

“so,” you continue, oblivious to the fact that jungkook’s brain is actively short-circuiting, “are you studying for midterms, too? or just, like, catching up?”

this. this is his moment.

just say it, he tells himself. it’s so easy. just ask if she wants to study together. worst-case scenario, she says no, and you move on, and you never speak again, and you have to drop out of school and move to a remote island where no one knows your shame—

“yeah,” he blurts out. not an answer to your question, exactly, but something.

your smile doesn’t waver. “cool, cool.” then, as if the universe is giving him the easiest possible setup: “wanna study together?”

jungkook’s entire soul leaves his body.

because—what? what?? that was supposed to be his line. that was the whole plan. but now you’re standing there, looking at him expectantly, like this is a totally casual, no-big-deal offer.

he should say yes.

he should absolutely say yes.

“uh.”

your head tilts. “you don’t have to,” you add quickly, as if you think he’s the one who might not want your company. “i just figured, y’know, since we’re both headed there anyway…”

this is so much worse. now you’re giving him an out, and if he hesitates any longer, he’s going to look like an idiot. more than he already does.

“yeah,” he says, a little too fast. “i mean, yeah. let’s—uh. let’s do that.”

you beam, like this is the best news you’ve heard all day. “awesome! let’s go.”

then you turn, start walking, fully expecting him to follow.

and jungkook?

jungkook thinks he might actually die.

not from a supervillain attack, not from getting thrown off a building—no, it’s worse than that. he’s dying because you just asked him to study, and now he has to actually go through with it.

he forces his feet to move, catching up to your side, even though his entire body feels like it’s running on autopilot. this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. he was supposed to be the one taking the initiative, proving to himself (and to jimin, unfortunately) that he could be normal about this.

instead, he’s trailing after you like a lost puppy, barely keeping up with the conversation.

“so,” you say, tucking your phone into your bag, “what class are you studying for?”

jungkook opens his mouth—then immediately panics because he didn’t think this far ahead. he is studying, technically, but he didn’t have a specific subject in mind. his only plan was talk to you and try not to embarrass himself.

which—so far? not going great.

“uh, chemistry,” he says, because that seems like a safe bet.

you hum in acknowledgment. “oof, rough. is it that professor who hates everyone?”

“yeah,” jungkook lies, because sure. why not.

you wince sympathetically. “brutal. hope you’re not failing.”

jungkook lets out a weak laugh. hope you’re not failing. If only you knew the things he actually had to juggle on top of school. But no big deal—he can totally pretend to be a normal college student for a couple of hours.

the library comes into view, and suddenly, it hits him—he’s about to spend an actual study session with you. at the same table. breathing the same air.

“you good?” you ask, shooting him a curious glance.

jungkook clears his throat. “yeah. just—uh. mentally preparing.”

you snort. “for studying?”

“yeah.”

you shake your head, laughing. “you’re a little weird, huh?”

jungkook nearly chokes.

but you don’t say it in a bad way. you’re smiling as you say it, like you find it endearing. like it doesn’t make you want to walk away. jungkook has no idea what to do with that.

jungkook has no idea what to do with that.

his brain is still buffering by the time you step through the library doors, pushing them open with ease, like this is just another regular day for you. like you didn’t just tell him—straight to his face—that you think he’s weird.

and that you don’t seem to mind.

he follows in a daze, letting the cool, quiet atmosphere of the library settle around him. there are plenty of empty tables scattered throughout the study area, but you don’t hesitate, making a beeline for a spot near the windows. sunlight spills over the wooden surface, and you plop your bag down like you’ve claimed this space a hundred times before.

“this seat good?” you ask, pulling out a chair.

jungkook nods dumbly. “yeah. good.”

(good? what does that even mean? why does he sound like he just learned how to talk?)

you don’t seem to notice his internal struggle. instead, you pull out your laptop, sliding into the chair with the kind of ease that makes him jealous. how are you so normal about this? why does it feel like this is just a casual, no-pressure situation for you, while jungkook is actively fighting for his life?

he sits down, trying to regain control over his body. trying to focus on literally anything other than the fact that he can smell the faint scent of your shampoo from here.

(focus, he tells himself. be normal.)

you glance at him as you open your laptop. “do you need to charge anything?”

jungkook blinks. “huh?”

you gesture toward the outlet beside the table. “your laptop? phone? charger?”

right. yes. because normal people bring chargers to study sessions. normal people actually bring their school stuff.

slowly, with the painful realization that he is so unprepared for this, jungkook unzips his backpack and stares into the absolute void of nothingness inside.

no laptop. no charger. no notebook.

just… snacks. and, for some reason, an extra pair of gloves.

his stomach sinks.

you peer over curiously. “uh—did you forget your stuff?”

(lie. lie, you absolute idiot.)

“yeah,” jungkook says, forcing a laugh that does not sound normal. “guess i left it at home.”

you blink at him. then, without missing a beat, you shrug. “that’s fine! we can just share.”

his brain nearly explodes. “what?”

you gesture toward your laptop. “i mean, if you’re studying chemistry, i have my notes from last semester. we can go over them together?”

together.

as in, sitting close. looking at the same screen. existing in the same breathing space.

jungkook swallows. he is not ready for this.

but somehow, he forces his legs to move, pulling his chair closer so he can see your laptop screen. the metal legs scrape lightly against the floor, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet library, but you don’t seem to care.

you rest your elbows on the table as your laptop boots up, fingers tapping absently against the keys. “so, chemistry,” you say, glancing at him with a playful smirk. “you’re totally failing, huh?”

jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. “i mean. define failing.”

“oh my god.” you laugh, shaking your head. “yeah, okay, you definitely need this.”

your screen flashes on, illuminating your face as you navigate to your files. but jungkook isn’t looking at your notes.

because just before you click away, his eyes catch something else.

an open tab. a news article.

Spider-Man: Hero or Menace? City Officials Weigh In.

his heart jumps straight into his throat.

he doesn’t mean to react—doesn’t mean to tense up, doesn’t mean for his fingers to curl against his jeans—but it happens before he can stop it.

you don’t notice right away, too busy sorting through your documents. “i think i have an old study guide in here somewhere,” you mumble, scrolling. “oh! do you wanna—”

then you pause.

jungkook can feel the exact second you realize where his attention is.

you glance at the screen, then back at him.

“oh,” you say, blinking. “you’re a spider-man fan?”

he should lie.

he should lie, laugh it off, make some offhand comment about how everyone is at least a little curious about the city’s masked vigilante.

but his throat feels tight, and his brain is still processing the fact that you—of all people—were reading about him.

his hesitation must look weird because you tilt your head, smiling lightly. “i mean, i don’t blame you. he’s kind of cool, right?”

(kind of cool.)

jungkook swallows. “uh. yeah. i guess.”

you glance at the article again, then back at him. “i was just skimming,” you say, like you feel the need to explain yourself. “some people in class were talking about him, and i realized that i don’t actually know much about him, so—” you gesture vaguely at the screen, “—research?”

jungkook’s head is spinning. “research,” he echoes.

you nod, chin resting in your palm. “it’s kinda crazy, though. no one even knows who he is.”

he forces himself to breathe. to relax. to be normal.

“yeah,” he says, voice even. “crazy.”

you huff out a laugh. “what do you think? hero or menace?”

jungkook blinks. “what?”

you nod toward the article, eyes bright with curiosity. “the headline. do you think he’s a good guy? or is he, like, actually sketchy?”

he should say something neutral. something vague. something that won’t give him away.

but for some reason, looking at you—sitting there, genuinely wondering, genuinely curious—he can’t stop himself from asking:

“what do you think?”

you blink, surprised by the question. but you consider it, eyes flicking back to the screen as you chew on your bottom lip.

then, finally, “...i think he’s just trying his best.”

jungkook’s stomach flips.

you shrug, scrolling absently through the article. “i mean, yeah, the whole vigilante thing is kinda illegal, but—” you pause, then shake your head, like you’re struggling to find the right words. “i don’t think he’d do all this if he didn’t care, y’know? like, he doesn’t have to help people. but he does anyway.”

you turn back to jungkook, smiling softly. “so yeah. i think he’s a good guy.”

jungkook is silent.

because suddenly, sitting here, right next to you and hearing you say that—

he’s pretty sure you just turned him into an even bigger mess than he already was.

jungkook doesn’t know what to say.

he just sits there, staring at you, heartbeat in his ears, hands curled into fists beneath the table.

he’s just trying his best.

he swallows hard. you have no idea.

but you don’t seem to notice his internal crisis, already clicking away from the article, pulling up your notes like this conversation didn’t just make his brain short-circuit.

“okay, so, chemistry,” you announce, stretching your arms over your head before settling in. “i have, like, three different study guides, so take your pick.”

jungkook is still trying to remember how to function as a person.

he clears his throat, shifting in his seat, eyes flicking away from you as if that will help him not think about what you just said. “uh. yeah. sure.”

you hum, scrolling through your files. “oh, also—before i forget.”

he glances up. “huh?”

you flash him a grin. “you should totally tell me your opinion on spider-man sometime.”

jungkook chokes.

he should’ve seen that coming.

his reaction is immediate—too immediate, too obvious, and you blink at him like you weren’t expecting that much of a response.

he forces himself to play it off, coughing into his fist. “uh—why?”

you tilt your head, amused. “you just seemed interested, that’s all.”

interested? yeah, that’s one way to put it.

you shrug, tapping at your keyboard. “not now, though. we’re totally studying. no distractions.”

(no distractions. funny.)

jungkook nods, gripping his pencil a little too tightly. “right. studying.”

but as you start explaining your notes, flipping through equations and diagrams, jungkook isn’t paying attention.

because all he can think about is the way you looked when you said it.

like it was obvious.

like you didn’t even have to think twice.

"i think he’s a good guy."

yeah.

he’s so not ready for this.

the next time jungkook sees you, he’s in the suit.

he doesn’t expect to find you all the way across town, so far from campus—especially not here, where the streets are rough and the people are meaner. and he definitely doesn’t expect to see you sprinting full-speed down the sidewalk.

his stomach drops. and then he sees why.

before he can think, before he can second-guess, his body moves on instinct.

jungkook swings down without hesitation, landing hard on the pavement just a few feet ahead of you. the second you see him, you skid to a stop, sneakers screeching against the concrete.

“whoa—” you breathe, wide-eyed, chest rising and falling from the sprint.

but jungkook isn’t looking at you. his focus is already behind you, on the two men barreling toward you from the other end of the street.

he doesn’t think. doesn’t hesitate.

his web shoots out before they can get any closer, yanking the first guy clean off his feet and sending him crashing into a lamppost. the second guy isn’t any smarter—he reaches for something in his jacket, but jungkook is faster, spinning and kicking the guy square in the chest before he even has a chance to react.

it’s over in seconds. too easy.

but the part jungkook wasn’t prepared for—the part making his heart pound harder than the fight itself—is you.

because when he finally turns back around, you’re still standing there, staring at him like you’ve just seen a ghost.

he swallows. he should leave. he should web them up, say something cool, and leave.

instead, he says, “you good?”

you blink at him. your breathing is still uneven, adrenaline still high, but... you smile.

“yeah,” you say, nodding. “that was… really cool.”

jungkook has been shot at before. he has been punched through windows, thrown into walls, nearly crushed by collapsing buildings. but somehow, this—you, standing there, grinning at him, eyes bright—is what almost knocks him on his ass.

he clears his throat, trying to regain control of his entire existence. “uh. yeah. just—y’know. doing my job.”

you huff a laugh. “well, thanks for that.”

(you’re thanking him. you’re actually thanking him.)

jungkook knows he should leave. he knows this.

but instead, his eyes flick to your bag, then back up to your face.

“what are you even doing here?” he blurts.

you blink, surprised by the question. “uh. getting very nearly robbed, apparently.”

jungkook exhales sharply. great. real smooth.

you shake your head, adjusting your strap. “i was just picking something up for my friend. obviously didn’t think that one through.”

jungkook doesn’t say anything, just clenches his fists at the thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t been here. if he hadn’t been on this side of town tonight.

“seriously, though,” you continue, tilting your head at him. “you okay?”

jungkook freezes. “what?”

“you just… looked kinda tense for a second.”

his brain short-circuits. because what kind of person almost gets mugged and then asks if their rescuer is okay?

he shakes his head, stepping back, forcing himself to get it together. “yeah. i’m good.”

you don’t look convinced. but you nod anyway, shifting on your feet.

“…guess this is where you do the whole mysterious-hero thing and disappear, huh?” you joke lightly.

jungkook should.

he needs to.

but he hesitates.

because for the first time, standing here, watching you look at him like this, he wonders. if he took off the mask right now...

would you still look at him the same way?

jungkook needs to leave. he should web up the guys groaning on the pavement, throw out a quick “stay safe,” and disappear into the night like he always does.

but he doesn’t.

because you’re still looking at him. really looking at him. and for some reason, that makes it impossible to move.

he swallows, gripping his fingers into fists at his sides. don’t be stupid. don’t linger. don’t let yourself wonder.

his fingers twitch.

he almost—almost—reaches up.

but then you sigh, shaking your head with a small, amused smile. “well, thanks again, spider-man,” you say, rocking back on your heels. “i should probably get going before more weirdos show up.”

just like that, the moment shatters.

jungkook blinks, the weight of reality crashing back in.

right. spider-man.

not jungkook. not a guy who shares your chemistry class, who has spent so much time psyching himself up just to talk to you like a normal person.

just a masked stranger you’ll forget about by morning.

he exhales, finally forcing himself to take a step back. “yeah,” he mutters. “probably a good idea.”

you nod, gripping the strap of your bag. “guess i’ll see you around?”

jungkook hesitates. he shouldn’t answer that. he shouldn’t make promises. but then—because he’s apparently the biggest idiot alive—he hears himself say,

“yeah.”

your lips twitch, eyes flicking over him one last time. and then, without another word, you turn and walk away.

jungkook watches you go, his chest tight, his heart pounding like he just walked out of a fight.

and that—the way he feels right now, standing frozen in the middle of the street, watching you disappear around the corner—is more terrifying than anything he’s ever faced.

after that first time, jungkook just keeps running into you.

you’ve been caught up in a gas station robbery. your train got derailed. been a victim in three separate mugging attempts.

either you’re trying to manifest him showing up, or you might actually be the unluckiest person jungkook has ever met.

and the worst part?

you don’t even seem bothered.

the first couple of times, sure—you were a little shaken up, a little breathless, wide-eyed and gripping your bag like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. but by the fourth time he drops out of the sky to save you, you barely even flinch.

“oh,” you say, blinking up at him as he lands in front of you, cutting off yet another guy who thought it would be a great idea to corner you in an alley. “you again.”

jungkook stares. you again?

he webs the guy’s wrist before he can bolt, yanking him forward just enough to knock him out cold with one clean punch. then, once the guy is down and sufficiently tied up, he turns back to you. arms crossed. head tilted.

“...okay,” he says slowly. “you have got to be doing this on purpose.”

you snort, shaking your head as you adjust your bag strap. “oh, totally. i go wandering through crime-infested areas just hoping you’ll show up.”

he points at you. “see? that’s exactly what someone who’s doing this on purpose would say.”

you just roll your eyes, amused. “do you think i want to be constantly in danger?”

jungkook narrows his eyes. “...i don’t know. do you?”

you laugh—actually laugh—and something about the sound makes his stomach do something weird and annoying.

“trust me, spider-man,” you say, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “if i had it my way, you and i would never be seeing each other again.”

for some reason, that makes his chest tighten. he should let it go. he should web this guy to a fire escape for the cops to find and leave. but instead, he hears himself saying, “what were you doing here, anyway?”

you blink. “going home?”

“through an alley?”

“it’s a shortcut.”

jungkook throws up his hands. “it’s also where people get mugged!”

you squint at him like he’s being dramatic. “not all the time.”

jungkook lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “oh my god.”

you snicker. “relax. i’ll take the long way next time, okay?”

he doesn’t believe you. not even a little bit. but he can’t exactly force you to change your entire route home.

he exhales, shaking his head. “if you say so.”

you smirk, tilting your head. “aww, do you worry about me, spider-man?”

jungkook nearly chokes.

“what— no. no, i—” he shakes his head aggressively, backing up like that will help him recover. “i worry about the crime rate.”

you nod, way too entertained. “right. of course.”

he glares. “i do.”

“sure, sure.”

he groans, already regretting everything about this conversation.

and then—because he really needs to get out of here before he embarrasses himself any further—he steps back, flexing his fingers before shooting out a web.

but just before he swings away, he hears you call out:

“see you next time, spider-man.”

he freezes.

because that almost sounded like a promise.

“dude.”

jungkook sighs. “no.”

“dude.”

“jimin, no.”

“duuuude.” jimin is vibrating in his seat, practically buzzing with excitement as he leans across the cafeteria table. “you know what this means, right?”

jungkook takes an aggressive bite of his sandwich, staring him down. “that i have terrible luck?”

jimin gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like jungkook just personally offended him. “terrible luck? bro, are you hearing yourself? this isn’t bad luck—this is literally fate.”

jungkook makes a face. “it’s really not.”

“okay, so let’s go over this one more time,” jimin says, ignoring him entirely. he starts ticking off on his fingers. “you meet this girl in class. you like her. but you’re too much of a coward to do anything about it—”

jungkook glares. “thanks.”

“—and then, suddenly, the universe just keeps throwing her in your path. over and over and over again. and not just in normal, everyday ways—no, no, no. she gets into highly dangerous situations that just so happen to require your heroic intervention.”

he wiggles his fingers dramatically. “it’s like magic.”

jungkook takes another bite, chewing slowly. “or, and hear me out—maybe she just has bad luck.”

“bad luck doesn’t land you in the same masked superhero’s path five different times,” jimin says, slapping his hand on the table. “this is literally the plot of, like, half the romcoms i’ve ever seen.”

jungkook groans, dropping his head onto the table.

“you’re actually insane,” he mumbles into his arms.

“insanely right,” jimin corrects, grinning.

jungkook lifts his head just enough to squint at him. “you’re telling me that if you got randomly mugged three times in the span of a month, you’d consider it romantic?”

jimin shrugs. “depends on who’s saving me.”

jungkook groans again, slumping further into the table.

jimin, unbothered, just leans in closer. “look, bro, all i’m saying is—you clearly have some cosmic connection to this girl. so use it.”

“use it?” jungkook repeats, deadpan.

“yes. as in, maybe instead of waiting for her next near-death experience, you actually talk to her for real.”

jungkook scowls. “i have talked to her.”

jimin makes a face. “you’ve talked to her as spider-man. that doesn’t count.”

jungkook hesitates.

because… yeah. he has technically talked to you. but barely as himself. hardly without the mask. and the worst part?

he kind of likes it that way.

because spider-man isn’t awkward. spider-man doesn’t trip over his words, or overthink every interaction, or panic every time you smile at him.

spider-man is confident. quick. easy.

but jungkook? jungkook is an absolute mess.

he presses his lips together, staring down at what’s left of his sandwich.

jimin watches him, expression shifting slightly. “look,” he says, voice a little softer now. “you don’t have to do anything. but… don’t you think it’s a little crazy that she keeps showing up in your life like this?”

jungkook doesn’t answer.

because yeah.

it is crazy.

but what’s even crazier is the way he already knows this isn’t the last time it’ll happen.

jimin squints at him. “wait, hold on.”

jungkook braces himself, because he knows that look. that’s the i’m about to make your life hell look.

“didn’t you guys, like… study together once?” jimin asks, tilting his head.

jungkook shifts uncomfortably. “uh. yeah.”

jimin slaps the table. “exactly. so that means you already had an in.”

jungkook sighs, rubbing his temple. “what’s your point?”

“my point is,” jimin says, voice heavy with dramatic exasperation, “you had a perfectly normal, non-life-threatening interaction with her before all of this. meaning, you had every opportunity to follow up—y’know, send a text, sit next to her in class, act like a human being.”

jungkook stares at his sandwich, avoiding eye contact.

jimin’s grin sharpens. “...so?”

jungkook exhales, slumping back in his seat. “i, uh… didn’t actually talk to her again,” he mutters.

jimin blinks. “after studying?”

jungkook nods, already regretting admitting anything.

jimin’s jaw drops. “not once?”

jungkook shrugs helplessly. “i was gonna, but then—”

jimin points an accusatory finger at him. “but then you saved her as spider-man and decided that totally counted as interacting with her, didn’t you?”

jungkook opens his mouth. closes it. scratches the back of his neck.

jimin gasps.

“oh my god,” he says, full-body flopping back in his chair. “you absolute loser.”

jungkook groans. “i know.”

“no, you don’t know, because if you did know, you would have done something about it.”

jungkook buries his face in his hands.

“i tried, okay? but it’s—” he groans, dragging his hands down his face, “—it’s just easier this way.”

jimin levels him with the flattest look imaginable.

“easier?” he repeats. “easier how?”

jungkook hesitates. because if he says it out loud, then it’s real. but jimin is staring at him, waiting, and—well.

he’s already lost his dignity at this point.

“…spider-man is cool,” jungkook mutters finally, eyes glued to the table. “spider-man doesn’t get nervous, or embarrass himself, or say dumb shit and then want to throw himself off a building.”

jimin snorts. “oh, buddy. that’s cute. you think you haven’t embarrassed yourself?”

jungkook glares. “shut up.”

jimin is grinning now, full and unrestrained. “bro. do you realize how weird you probably sound to her? imagine getting rescued by the same guy five times in a row and every time he acts progressively more awkward about it.”

jungkook groans. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t,” jimin says, smug.

jungkook drops his head onto the table again. because, unfortunately, he’s right.

jungkook groans into the table. “okay. fine. let’s say you’re right—”

“i am right.”

“—and i have been weird about it—”

“super weird.”

jungkook lifts his head just enough to glare. “jimin.”

jimin grins, unrepentant. “continue.”

jungkook exhales sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face. “whatever. what am i even supposed to do now? just waltz up to her in class and pretend i haven’t been awkwardly saving her from disaster every other week?”

jimin shrugs. “yeah.”

jungkook stares. “you cannot be serious.”

“why not?” jimin says, stealing a fry off jungkook’s plate. “you already know she’s cool. she doesn’t freak out around you, she doesn’t think spider-man’s a menace, and she definitely isn’t scared of you—”

jungkook scoffs. “yeah, because she doesn’t know it’s me.”

jimin points at him with the stolen fry. “exactly! you have nothing to lose!”

jungkook squints. “that’s not how that works.”

jimin waves him off. “look, bro. i love you. i do. but you overthink literally everything.”

jungkook frowns. “i do not.”

jimin gives him a look so flat it could be legally classified as a murder weapon.

jungkook shifts. “…okay, sometimes.”

jimin nods approvingly. “glad we’re on the same page.” he shoves the fry into his mouth before pointing at jungkook again. “so, let’s think about this logically.”

jungkook groans. “oh, now we’re thinking logically?”

jimin ignores him. “you already know she likes talking to spider-man. you’ve literally heard her say she thinks he’s a good guy. and you also know she was cool with studying with you before you started avoiding her like a total dumbass.”

jungkook winces. “ouch.”

jimin grins. “so, what does that tell us?”

jungkook crosses his arms, scowling. “that i’m a dumbass?”

“correct. but more importantly,” jimin leans forward, voice going annoyingly dramatic, “it means you’re already in.”

jungkook blinks. “what?”

jimin gestures vaguely. “she already likes you. not just spider-man, but you-you. maybe she doesn’t have a crush or anything—”

jungkook’s face burns at the mere mention of the possibility. “dude—”

“—but at the very least, she doesn’t hate you,” jimin finishes, undeterred. “so, all you have to do is act normal for once in your life, and maybe—maybe—you can stop making things harder than they need to be.”

jungkook stares at him.

jimin stares back.

“…that’s it?” jungkook asks, skeptical.

jimin shrugs. “that’s it.”

jungkook exhales.

because—okay. maybe it does make sense. maybe he is overcomplicating things, like he always does. maybe he really is just making his life ten times harder for no reason.

but then he thinks about actually doing it—about sitting down next to you again, about saying hey like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t been a complete coward for weeks.

and suddenly, he’s panicking all over again.

“…okay,” he mutters. “sure. i’ll talk to her.”

jimin beams. “hell yeah.”

“eventually.”

jimin’s smile drops. “no.”

“yes.”

“jungkook—”

jungkook shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and stands up. “gotta go, bye.”

“jungkook, don’t you dare walk away from me—”

but jungkook is already halfway across the cafeteria, ignoring the way jimin’s voice follows him, loud and accusing.

because, yeah.

maybe he’ll talk to you.

but eventually sounds a hell of a lot safer than right now.

it turns out you end up talking to him first.

jungkook barely has time to process the end of the lecture before you’re suddenly there, standing next to his desk, shifting on your feet like you’re nervous about something.

which is weird.

because you’re never nervous. not when you were nearly mugged, not when a guy pulled a knife on you, not when you looked spider-man in the eye and grinned at him like it was just another Tuesday.

but now, standing here, looking at him?

you’re fidgeting.

and jungkook’s brain immediately starts malfunctioning.

“hey,” you say, voice a little softer than usual.

jungkook stares.

then, realizing that yes, this is real, he forces himself to swallow the dumb why are you talking to me that nearly slips out.

“uh. hey,” he says instead.

you shift your bag higher on your shoulder. “so, um.” you clear your throat, glancing around the emptying lecture hall. “this might be kind of random, but… do you, uh. know anyone who tutors?”

jungkook blinks. “tutors?”

you nod, still looking strangely hesitant. “yeah. for chemistry.”

chemistry.

the subject he lied about needing help with.

jungkook can feel the irony punching him directly in the face.

but beyond that, beyond the fact that he is absolutely not qualified to help you with this, there’s something else creeping into his mind.

the fact that you came to him.

out of everyone in this class—hell, out of everyone on campus—you chose to ask him.

his stomach flips.

it has to be fate, right? this is too much of a coincidence. after all the near-misses, after all the nights he spent convincing himself to just talk to you already—you end up coming to him first?

it doesn’t feel real.

but you’re still standing there, watching him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

jungkook swallows. “uh. yeah. i mean, i—” he clears his throat, scrambling to make his voice sound normal. “i can ask around.”

your shoulders drop a little, like you were bracing for rejection. “oh. cool. yeah, that would be great.”

you pause, glancing at him, hesitant. “and, um… if you hear of anyone good, could you maybe… let me know?”

jungkook nods so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. “yeah. of course.”

your lips curve into a soft smile. “thanks, jungkook.”

his breath stutters.

(oh, he is so screwed.)

and then, just like that, you wave and disappear out the door, leaving him sitting there in the empty lecture hall, gripping his desk like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

he doesn’t move for a solid minute.

his heart is still hammering, his brain is still catching up, and all he can think is jimin is going to have a field day with this.

and jimin fucking does.

“you’re actually kidding me.”

jimin is staring at jungkook like he just confessed to being an alien.

they’re in jungkook’s apartment, controllers in hand, some game running on the screen—but jimin has completely forgotten about it, pausing mid-match to turn and gawk at him.

jungkook, on the other hand, is doing his best to act normal. which is hard, considering his entire life has just been flipped upside down.

“i’m not kidding,” jungkook mutters, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. “it happened.”

jimin lets out a loud, incredulous laugh, tossing his controller onto the couch. “so let me get this straight. you—who have been avoiding this girl like she’s an actual fire hazard—you were literally just sitting there, minding your own business, and she just walks up to you? and asks for a tutor??”

jungkook grits his teeth. “yes.”

jimin cackles, grabbing a pillow and whacking him over the head with it.

“bro, fate is spoon-feeding you a love story and you’re just sitting there like a fucking brick!”

jungkook groans, shoving the pillow away. “okay, first of all, relax. it’s not a love story.”

jimin scoffs. “it could be.”

“it’s not.”

“it could be.”

jungkook sighs aggressively, running a hand down his face.

jimin flops dramatically against the couch, shaking his head. “so? what did you say?”

“i said i’d ask around.”

jimin blinks. “you said you’d—” he stops, eyes narrowing. “...ask around.”

jungkook shifts. “…yes?”

silence.

“you idiot!” jimin yells, smacking his arm.

“ow!” jungkook jerks away, scowling. “what? what was i supposed to say?”

“literally that you could tutor her yourself!”

jungkook’s stomach flips. “i can’t tutor her, dumbass, i'm barely passing chemistry myself.”

jimin throws up his hands. “bro, she doesn’t know that! just pretend!”

“pretend?”

“yes! look up some notes, re-learn a few things, do what you need to do!”

jungkook shakes his head aggressively. “no way. i am not tutoring her when i don’t know shit.”

jimin levels him with a deadpan stare. “so instead, you’re just gonna, what? let her go find some other guy to tutor her?”

jungkook freezes.

jimin grins. “ah.”

jungkook clenches his jaw. “fuck you.”

“no, no, let’s think about this,” jimin continues, voice full of fake contemplation. “some dude, sitting real close, explaining things all smart and helpful. maybe he’s got nice hands. maybe he’s charming. maybe he’s better at chemistry than you—”

jungkook throws a pillow at his face.

jimin laughs as he catches it. “so? what’s the move, lover boy?”

jungkook scowls, but deep down, he already knows.

he sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch.

“…i’m gonna have to tutor her, aren’t i?”

jimin claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him with excitement.

“yes, you absolutely are.”

jungkook hasn’t seen you in days.

which is weird, because ever since this whole thing started, you’ve been everywhere. in class, in study sessions, in the middle of very questionable situations that require his immediate intervention.

but now?

now, you’ve just vanished.

he’s checked the usual places—your usual seat in lecture, the library, even the coffee shop on the corner where he thinks he saw you once. nothing. no sign of you anywhere.

he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much.

(yes, he does.)

but he pushes it out of his mind. or at least, he tries.

because right now, he’s got other things to focus on—like swinging through the city at just the right angle to catch the breeze, flipping effortlessly between buildings, scanning the streets for trouble.

except there is no trouble. not tonight. it’s weird. quiet. almost peaceful.

and then he sees you.

not running. not being chased. not clutching your bag like your life depends on it.

just… standing there.

paintbrush in hand, clothes speckled with color, entirely focused on the massive mural in front of you.

jungkook nearly crashes into a building.

he just barely manages to recover, swinging onto a rooftop ledge, crouching down to watch from a safe distance.

because what the hell?

you’re supposed to be in a classroom. or getting into some ridiculous situation that requires his immediate assistance. not this. not standing in the middle of an empty lot, surrounded by paint cans, filling an entire wall with streaks of blue and gold.

you look… calm.

you step back, tilting your head at your work, lips pursed in thought. then, with a small nod, you dip your brush into another color and go right back to it.

jungkook stares.

because somehow, in all this time, in all the chaotic ways he’s seen you before—he’s never seen you like this.

focused. steady. completely lost in something you love.

he exhales, watching the way the city lights catch in your hair, the way your brows pinch slightly when you concentrate.

for once, he doesn’t have to worry about saving you.

for once, he just gets to watch.

before he can help himself, jungkook is swinging down.

it’s instinct, like muscle memory—one second, he’s crouched on the ledge, watching from a safe distance, and the next, he’s mid-air, descending toward you before his brain can even catch up.

he lands a few feet away, boots hitting the pavement with a soft thud.

you don’t even flinch.

just glance over your shoulder, brush still poised against the wall, and say “hey, spider-man.”

jungkook freezes.

because—what?

no startled jump, no wide-eyed what the fuck?, no immediate questioning of why a masked vigilante just casually dropped into your art session. just… hey, spider-man. like he’s some guy from your lecture hall, like you expected him to show up.

his brain malfunctions. “uh.”

you smirk, finally lowering your brush. “you always this quiet?”

jungkook clears his throat, scrambling to pull himself together. “uh—no, just… wasn’t expecting you to be so—” he gestures vaguely, “—chill about this.”

you tilt your head. “should i not be?”

“i mean, most people don’t just greet me like i’m their next-door neighbor.”

you hum, considering. “well, most people don’t run into you five times in a row, either.”

jungkook exhales sharply. “true.”

you grin, then turn back to your mural, wiping your hands against your paint-stained hoodie. “so,” you say, glancing at him. “what brings you here? crime’s looking pretty low tonight.”

jungkook falters.

because yeah. crime is low. there was literally no reason for him to come down here. he just saw you. and… well.

you smile knowingly, like you can see the wheels turning in his head. “you were watching me, weren’t you?”

jungkook chokes.

“what— no. no, i—” he shakes his head aggressively, backing up like that will help him recover. “i was patrolling.”

you arch a brow. “patrolling from a rooftop directly above me?”

he groans. “oh my god.”

you laugh, bright and easy, and jungkook swears his entire world tilts for a second. “relax,” you say, dipping your brush into a new color. “it’s kind of flattering, actually.”

jungkook short-circuits. “it’s what?”

you just wink. “so, you sticking around, or was this just a quick check-in?”

jungkook should leave.

he knows that.

but then you turn back to your mural, completely at ease, completely unbothered by the fact that you’re casually talking to spider-man like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

and jungkook, against all logic, against all common sense, sits down on the curb.

“guess i’ll stick around.”

you glance over when you hear him sit, eyebrows raising slightly. but you don’t question it, don’t make it weird. just hum, like this is normal, like masked vigilantes dropping into your painting sessions is a completely regular thing.

jungkook doesn’t know what to do with that.

you dip your brush into another color, dragging long, confident strokes across the wall.

for a while, neither of you speak.

it’s… oddly comfortable.

jungkook watches, elbows resting on his knees, head tilted as he tries to figure out what you’re painting. it’s not quite clear yet, but the colors blend together in a way that makes his chest feel weirdly tight. like something about it is important.

finally, he clears his throat.

“so… what is it?”

you pause, glancing at him before looking back at the wall. “not sure yet.”

jungkook squints. “you’re not sure?”

you smirk. “it’s a process.”

he huffs a soft laugh. “so you’re just winging it?”

“more like… feeling it out,” you correct. you step back, tilting your head, eyes scanning over the patterns of color like you’re looking for something only you can see.

jungkook doesn’t know why, but that makes sense.

for a while, he doesn’t say anything else. just watches as you paint, as your hands move with purpose, as you fill the blank spaces with something real.

and then, before he can stop himself, “why do you do it?”

you pause, brush still hovering over the wall.

jungkook feels his stomach drop. “uh—you don’t have to answer that, i was just—”

“because it’s mine.”

he stops.

you’re still looking at the mural, voice calm, steady. “it’s something i can make real. something i can create, and leave behind, and know it’s mine. even if someone paints over it later.”

jungkook stares at you.

because, for some reason, that hits him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. just watches as you pick up where you left off, like you didn’t just shake something loose in his chest. and that’s when it hits him. this is the first time he’s ever spent time with you without worrying about saving you. the first time he’s seen you just be.

and it’s terrifying.

because suddenly, jungkook isn’t sure what scares him more.

the thought of you getting hurt again, or the thought of you never looking at him the way you look at spider-man right now.

jungkook hates this. hates the way his stomach twists every time you look at him—at spider-man—like this. open, unguarded, like you trust him. like he’s someone worth trusting. hates the way he wants you to keep looking at him like that.

because he knows this isn’t real. or at least, not fully real. not like it would be if it were him sitting here beside you, mask off, just jungkook.

(but would you even talk to him if you knew?)

he exhales slowly, pressing his palms against his knees. you don’t seem to notice his internal crisis, still completely focused on your painting, eyebrows furrowed just slightly in concentration.

“you’re staring,” you say after a moment, not looking away from the wall.

jungkook jolts. “what? no, i’m not.”

you smirk, finally glancing at him. “you totally are.”

he crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “you want me to lie?”

“i want you to at least try to be subtle about it.”

he scoffs. “okay, and what exactly am i supposed to be staring at? the back of your head?”

“or my art.” you gesture to the mural dramatically. “y’know, the thing that’s actually interesting here.”

jungkook huffs a quiet laugh. “yeah, okay. so what’s it supposed to be now?”

you step back, surveying your work. “dunno.”

he stares. “so you still don’t know?”

you shrug. “told you. it’s a process.”

jungkook exhales, shaking his head. “yeah, well. not every process ends up making sense.”

“maybe not right away,” you say, glancing at him. “but eventually.”

eventually.

the word sticks in his head, clinging to something deeper, something he doesn’t want to think about right now.

so instead, he sighs, shifting to stand. “well, don’t get mugged while you’re doing your whole process thing.”

you grin. “what, no more rooftop patrols?”

“depends,” he says, adjusting his gloves. “you planning on wandering into any more dark alleys?”

you pretend to think about it. “maybe. depends on the shortcut.”

jungkook groans. “i hate you.”

you just laugh, waving your brush at him in a mock salute. “see you next time, spider-man.”

jungkook’s fingers twitch.

he should leave. but instead, he lingers—just for a second. because for the first time, he knows something you don’t. he knows he’ll see you again. not just like this, not just as spider-man, but as himself.

because eventually isn’t good enough anymore.

[cameronsprincess]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET — J.M

summary: you and jj have been hooking up in secret for a couple of months, but when jj starts trying to make it more, you have to quickly remind him that wasn’t the deal, no matter how badly you want the things he does.

CW: smut! 18+ only! fwb trope, jj maybank x kook!reader, toxic and abusive mom, family issues, strong language, smoking, high sex, male and female receiving oral, unprotected piv sex, finger sucking for a second, angst.

note: loosely inspired by my favorite song by nessa barrett, dirty little secret!<3

masterlists.

The sound of your front door slamming had you jumping, your mind swirling at all the things that could’ve pissed your mother off today. She was always taking her anger out on you, the one who didn’t deserve it…

To be fair, you deserved it sometimes, especially when you challenged and pushed her, testing the thin patience you knew she’d had. You weren’t sure why you loved pushing at your mom’s buttons, it always ended with harsh words and sometimes bruises from when your mom got a little too physical with you, her anger getting the better of her.

Your mom shouts your full name from downstairs, followed with a “Get your ass down here now!”. You sighed, pushing yourself off your bed and padding down the stairs. The house was eerily silent, give for the sound of the air conditioner whooshing to life. You find your mother in the kitchen, a large glass of straight vodka in her hand. Her narrowed eyes find yours, and you feel like a kid again, shrinking in on yourself under her gaze.

“What’s wrong mama?” you asked sweetly, hoping she’d be calm enough to talk like an adult.

Your mother scoffs, downing the rest of the vodka in her glass before she’s harshly slamming it onto the countertop, making you flinch back.

“Just a bunch of idiots down at the firm…” she pauses, looking around the kitchen. It was fairly clean, a bowl and a glass in the sink, but you knew that was enough to give her a reason to be mad at you. “And then I come home to see my lazy daughter can’t even be bothered to clean after herself, I mean.. C’mon, Y/N. I raised you better than this.”

You bite back the scoff wanting to escape you. She didn’t raise you at all. You were raised by nannies your whole life. Your mother was too busy working or drowning herself in liquor to care, and your dad? Well let’s just say he was a worthless piece of shit from the beginning, left when you were five, didn’t really know him.

“Mama, it’s just a bowl and a glass, I can clean it-”

The words die on your tongue, a sharp cry of pain escaping when the back of your mothers hand flies across your face. You cup your stinging cheek in your hand, tears blurring your vision as you force yourself to meet her eyes again. If you didn’t, it would only get worse.

“Honestly, honey, I don’t care to listen to your excuses. Clean it up. Now.”

You keep your mouth shut, lips thinned as you blinked back the tears. You nod slowly, walking toward the sink and washing the two dishes before placing them in the drying rack. You turn back around, finding your mother gone from the kitchen.

Letting out a slow breath, you turn and brace your hands on the counter, lowering your head as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your mind fills with images of messy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. A crooked smile that made your heart rate kick up a notch. JJ Maybank.

He was everything you’d wished you were, free. He’d understood you in a way no one else on this god forsaken island could. His dad was a piece of shit, always blaming JJ for his mistakes and problems, beating JJ black and blue. You two had an understanding, but you couldn’t ever allow yourself to have him in the way you wanted. So you took what you could get.

And what you could get from JJ was sex. Mind-blowing sex that allowed your brain to shut off, that let you forget all the negative things your mom spewed at you in a day, all the times she hit you or blamed you for things that weren’t your fault. Even when it was your fault, you loved going to JJ after an argument with your mom, because he understood you, and he helped you forget.

Pushing off the counter, you made your way up the stairs, passing your mom’s room, hearing the sound of her en-suite shower running, and into your room. You grabbed your phone off your bed, finding JJ’s name and sending him a quick and simple text.

You: I need you.

He read it immediately, the little bubbles bouncing across the bottom of your screen. His text came in and a smile pulled on your lips.

J: Come over, no one else is here.

You quickly jumped up from your bed, stripping yourself of your pajama pants and sliding on a pair of black biker shorts. You slid the hoodie you wore off your body, tossing it onto your bed before sliding on a plain white off the shoulder top. You quickly pulled your shoes on, grabbing your phone and car keys before quietly slipping from your room, down the stairs and out the front door.

The entire drive to the chateau— JJ’s best friends house— was silent, nothing but your thoughts consuming you. You’re not sure how you made it to the house alive, realizing you’d disassociated yourself from reality on the way there, but you didn’t care, you’d made it and you were ready to forget.

The old creaky screen door pushes open, JJ’s face coming into view on the front porch. He smiles down at you, watching as you slowly make your way out of your car. You stare at your phone in your hands, deciding you didn’t need it and tossing it into your driver seat. If your mom needed you, too bad. Maybe you were being ridiculous, maybe you were adding fuel to the fire, but you didn’t care. All you cared about right now, was spending time with JJ and forgetting the dumpster fire that was your mother.

You slowly walk toward him, stepping into his open arms the second you reached him on the porch. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, your face pressed into his bare chest and inhaling his scent.

“Missed you, princess.” JJ mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You pull back, smiling back at him, the tears already filling your eyes.

JJ’s blue eyes softened when they found yours, “Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No. Just wanna spend time with you and not think.”

He nodded his head in understanding, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside, the screen door slamming shut behind you. JJ walked you into the living room, letting you plop down on the couch before he disappeared down a small hallway. He returns seconds later, a pre-rolled blunt between his fingers. He wiggles his brows, that boyish grin on his face that made your heart swell.

“New shit, it’s really good.” JJ says, plopping down beside you while flicking his lighter, letting the flame burn the end of the blunt. The smell of the blueberry swisher and weed filled the air as the end of the paper caught fire, JJ pressing the unlit end to your lips, letting you take the first hit.

You puff on the blunt a few times, inhaling the weed into your lungs as JJ pulled it back, letting a small cloud of smoke pass your lips seconds later. The weed instantly spread through your veins, making you feel lighter.

“That is good, your cousin?” you asked, giving JJ a sweet smile.

The smile drops when you noticed he was already staring at you, watching you, drinking in every inch of you he could with his eyes while he puffed on the blunt that lazed between his fingers.

“J?” you said softly, snapping him out of his trance.

He chokes on the smoke that filled his lungs, passing the blunt to you again while he tried to compose himself. “Shit. Sorry, what?”

You laughed. “Nothing, I just asked if you got this from your cousin.”

JJ grins. “You know it, he’s always got the best shit.”

You nod in agreement, taking another drag of the blunt before passing it back to him. You flop back onto the couch, your hands laced together and resting on your stomach, a comfortable silence surrounding you and JJ.

After a few minutes of the silence, JJ breaks it. “So… Did you uh, you come here to just smoke and sit in silence or?”

You snort at JJ’s ridiculous question. He knew you didn’t just come here to sit in silence and smoke. You look at him, your eyes glazed over from the high, half-lidded and soft. “You know I didn’t come here for just that, J.”

He smirks, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. He quickly smashes the burning end of the joint out in an ashtray that’s on the table, dropping it in before he’s standing and grabbing your hand. You giggle as he pulls you down the hall and into ‘his’ bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

His hands land on your hips, pulling you into him. He runs his nose up and down the length of your face, breathing you in and groaning. “Fuck I missed you… It’s been too long, princess.”

You smile, lifting on your toes and kissing at his neck, your teeth nipping at his skin and pulling low moans from him. “It’s been two weeks, J… Don’t be so dramatic.”

JJ fists your hair in his hand, yanking your head back so your eyes are on him. “‘M not being dramatic, baby. It’s just… Why can’t you just be mine? Fuck, I can’t stand this sneakin’ around anymore. I wanna love you out loud.”

You frown. “It’s not that simple JJ.”

“Yes it is that simple, and I know you feel what I do. You can’t fake a real connection, princess, and you know it.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, tears already blurring your vision. You wished you could be carefree like Sarah Cameron, she was dating John B, loving him as loudly as he was her. But you knew your mom. You knew this town. You’d be eaten alive if you got with a pogue… You shouldn’t care about that shit, but you did. You didn’t want to give your mom a reason to kick you out.

As if he could read your thoughts, JJ kissed you softly, resting his forehead against yours. “Don’t think on it too much, we’ll talk about it again. For now, I just wanna feel you.”

You bit your bottom lip, so hard you tasted blood. Nodding your head slowly, you released your lip from between your teeth and kissed him. Your hands roamed every part of his body, touching, grabbing and scratching every inch of him you could. JJ groaned against your lips when your perfectly done nails dug into his back, dragging down and leaving red marks in their wake.

He turned your bodies, backing you up to his small twin-sized mattress and pushing you down onto it. The springs creaked beneath your weight, and JJ crawled on top of you, his hands already making quick work of stripping you of your clothes. You lay completely naked beneath JJ, your chest moving up and down quickly as your eyes searched his.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He rasped, pulling his sweatpants down his legs, his boxers following quickly behind.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your eyes drinking in every inch of JJ’s tanned and toned skin. You finally pushed yourself up and onto your knees, shoving him so he was on his back. You lowered yourself, your lips brushing a soft kiss to the tip of his dick, already dripping with precum. Your tongue softly and slowly ran across the tip, moaning when the salty taste of him hit your tongue.

“Fuck, baby… You want me to beg for it?”

You giggled, teasing him some more. “And if I say yes?”

JJ groans, his head thrown back onto the mattress as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head, gently sucking and licking at him before releasing him with a pop.

“I’ll do whatever you want if you just suck my cock, baby. Please?”

You swiped your tongue across your bottom lip, smiling up at him before you gave him what he wanted. Your lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking as you slowly took him all the way down your throat.

A low groan escapes JJ, his fingers digging into your hair and lightly tugging as you continue to slowly move your mouth up and down his thick length. You push him all the way down, holding him there while your tongue moves against the underside of his shaft.

You slowly drag back up, pulling him all the way out to the tip. You tease him with your tongue, giving slow languid licks to his pulsing tip. JJ breathes out a frustrated breath, his fingers tightening in your hair and holding your head captive as he bucks his hips up, forcefully pushing himself down your throat.

Tears blur your vision, a rough gag pulled from you as JJ keeps himself held down your throat. He slowly lowers his hips, dragging himself out of your mouth, “Such a tease, baby… ‘M gonna fuck this pretty little mouth now, okay?”

The words you want to speak don’t even make it past your thoughts before JJ is brutally working his dick in your mouth, rough, hard thrusts of his hips as his hand in your hair keeps you held in place for him. You gag and slurp around him, drool spilling past the corners of your lips as you try and breathe through your nose. JJ’s dick pulses against your tongue, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your aching clit.

JJ breathes out a low curse and call of your name before his grip on your hair tightens further and he’s ripping you off his cock, strings of spit and precum flying and landing on his toned stomach. You choke on gasps of air, your eyes bloodshot and half-lidded as you find his intense blue stare already burning into your face.

“God you’re so fucking beautiful,” His thumb reaches out to swipe away a tear that’d ran down your cheek. “Switch places with me, on your back, legs open baby.”

You quickly obey, weakly bringing yourself to your knees and laying your back against the cool mattress, your head falling into the plush pillows. Your shaky legs slowly spread wide, baring your glistening pussy to JJ. He sucks in a sharp breath, his tongue running across his teeth as his eyes drink you in.

“Fuckin’ soaked, just like I knew you’d be.” He smiles, falling to his stomach, his face between your shaking thighs.

JJ’s lips form a circle, a cool blow of air hitting your soaked folds. You shudder, moaning his name as your fingers fly into his messy blond hair. JJ smiles, his lips pressing lightly against your inner thighs. His lips leave hot, wet open-mouthed kisses along the length of your inner thighs, teeth nipping and lips sucking on skin every so often.

“J, please..” You moan breathlessly.

JJ’s lips press a soft kiss against your swollen clit. “Please what, princess?”

“Please… Eat my pussy, JJ. Please? I fucking need it.” you begged, your entire body tight and on fire as JJ continued to tease you with his lips and tongue.

He was so close to where you needed him, just a mere inch away from where you ached to feel him. Without warning, JJ sucked your clit into his mouth, pressing the tip of his middle finger inside you at the same time. You gasp, back arching up off the mattress as JJ fingered, licked and sucked at your pussy like it was his last meal on earth.

The coil tightened low in your belly, a warmth rushing through your veins as your inner walls fluttered around JJ’d finger. He releases your clit with a messy pop, his head lifting to find your eyes. He smiles, the sight painfully sexy as his mouth glistened with your arousal.

“Cum on my face and hand baby, then I’ll fuck you.”

His face disappeared between your legs again, his middle finger pushing in and out of you at a quick pace while his mouth sucked on your clit. His teeth lightly bit down on your swollen bud, making you gasp in both pain and pleasure. JJ soothed the area, giving slow and sensual licks with his tongue before he’s sucking it back into his mouth. JJ hummed against your pussy, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you. You came undone for him, body shaking and loud whines of his name spilling from your lips as he continued to suck and finger you through your high.

Your body fell limp against the mattress and JJ slowly pulled his finger from inside you. Lifting himself up to his knees, he crawled to hover above you. “Always so fuckin’ sweet, here, taste yourself.” He says before forcing his middle finger into your mouth.

You didn’t hesitate to suck on his finger, your tongue swirling around his digit, cleaning every trace of your arousal from his finger. JJ’s eyes darken over, a deep growl rumbling in his chest before he’s pulling his finger from your mouth and flipping you onto your stomach. His hands snake underneath your hips, lifting your ass up into the air for him.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, did you know that?” He rasps, his ringed fingers gripping a handful of your ass between them.

Your hips sway, silently begging him to fuck you. “Yes. But I love hearing you say it, J.”

JJ breathes out an amused laugh. “Always were a humble one, baby.”

“You know me, I’m as humble as they come,” you lift your head off the mattress, turning to look at JJ from over your shoulder. Your lips slightly parted when you saw him gripping his thick cock in his large hand, giving himself slow pumps while he stared back at you. “Fuck me, JJ. Please? I need to feel- Oh, God.”

JJ shoves himself inside you in one swift thrust, bottoming out and stretching you open. His hands grip your hips tightly, the feel of his fingers on your skin burning you from the inside out. JJ lets out a deep groan, slowly dragging himself out of your pussy before slamming forward again.

His right hand releases your hip, running up the arch of your back and to the back of your head. He tightly fists your hair in his hand, yanking your face up off the mattress as he growls, “This what you needed, baby? Needed my cock buried deep inside this sweet fuckin’ pussy?”

You whimper. “Y-yes,” a sharp gasp escapes you, JJ hips brutally slapping against your ass. “Fuck, fuck JJ… Oh, God…”

JJ lets out a dark laugh, his hand that wasn’t gripping your hair landing a harsh slap against your ass. “Getting real sick of being a dirty fuckin’ secret of yours, you know that?” JJ grits out, his hand harshly smacking your ass again.

Your fingers dig into the sheets below you, tightly gripping onto them as JJ’s thrusts pick up in speed and roughness. JJ slows himself, slowly dragging out to the tip before slamming inside again. His fat head nudges at your sweet spot, knocking the breath from your lungs.

JJ continues his slow and rough thrusts, each one more painful and pleasurable than the last. JJ’s grip in your hair tightens, his dick shoving deep inside you before he’s yanking you up off the mattress, pulling your back flush against his front.

“Why the fuck can’t you just let me take care of you?” Out. Slam forward. “I’d love you, I’d make sure you never knew pain ever again,” Out. Slam forward. “But you want to care more about social statuses and your fucking mom,” He grinds his teeth so hard you swear they might break. “Than you do about me. You know how that makes me feel?”

Tears flow down your cheeks. You knew he was right, and you wished you could give him what he wanted. But you just couldn’t, not now anyways.

“JJ… Please..”

JJ pulls himself out of you completely, slapping the head of his dick against your throbbing clit once. Twice. Three times before he slams back inside. He releases your hair, letting you fall back into the mattress, both his hands gripping your hips so tightly you swore you’d bruise. The cold metal of his rings should cool your heated skin, but they burned, searing themselves into your skin the way JJ had seared himself into your heart.

You choked on a sob, apologies spilling from you as JJ pounded himself into you, the sounds of your sobs, moans and flesh slapping flesh filled the room. Your pussy flutters around JJ’s cock when he gives a particularly brutal thrust, his dick pulsing deep inside you.

JJ leans his body over yours, slowly fucking into you as he swipes your hair off your sweat slick face. His lips kiss at your cheek, neck and shoulder, his teeth biting down on your shoulder hard as he pulses and throbs inside you.

“I love you, and I wish you loved me back.” He whispers.

A single tear slides down your cheek as you come undone around him, your pussy clenching and unclenching, squeezing him tightly. JJ groans, pushing himself deep one final time before he cums, spurts of his warm cum spilling inside you.

The two of you are panting, completely sated and exhausted. JJ slips out of you, standing from the bed and pulling on his boxers and sweatpants. You sit up, pulling his comforter over your very naked body, suddenly feeling more exposed and vulnerable than you’d ever felt in front of him.

His sad eyes found yours. “I meant what I said, I’m done with the sneaking around. I love you, and you deserve to be loved out loud,” He pauses, running a hand through his disheveled hair before letting out a humorless laugh. “Call me when you figure out what it is you truly want, but until then, this,” His hand motions between the two of you. “This is done. I won’t be some dirty fuckin’ secret. I deserve more than that, and you know it.”

He turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wanted JJ, but you knew it wouldn’t work. He was too good for you. He was and would probably always be, your dirty little secret.

tagging some moots: @quinnsbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @maybejj @maybankslover @cherrygirlfriend @rafescvntyclubgf @nemesyaaa @hauntedfawnn @dementedkittenribbon @jjslaybank @memoirofasparklemuff1n @kiiyomei @oceandriveab

[shanastoryteller]

Dean is taking too long in the basement.

He should have been right behind him, but he isn’t. Sam gets the kids out and goes running back downstairs, gun held in front of him, which ends up being pointless. The rawhead is head.

For a moment, he thinks Dean is too.

He’s pale and cold in the water and Sam sees the tazer and knows exactly what happened and if his brother is dead, he doesn’t care about personal gain or consequences or any of that shit, he’s brining him back no matter what.

But his pulse flutters weak and too fast under his fingers and Sam doesn’t even spare a moment for relief before he’s shouting, “CHRIS! CHRIS! I need you!”

Nothing happens.

Fear clogs his throat. “Paige! Wyatt! Leo!”

He never bothers the others. He’s trained with them, even fought with them while he was at Stanford, but at the end of the day he’s just another witch and Chris is his whitelighter. But his brother is dying.

No one comes.

He calls 911 then, because as long as Dean isn’t dead then he can be healed, and he’ll worry about what’s going on with the Halliwells later.

~

The doctors can’t do anything, Dean’s already resigned himself to death, and no one’s answering his calls.

He’s pacing in the hall outside of his brother’s room, not wanting Dean to see him unraveling but not able to bring himself to go too far away. It’s not like he’s going to drop dead the second Sam looks away, he knows that.

He knows that.

It doesn’t matter if no one’s answering his calls. He knows other witches, he can track down another whitelighter if he has to. Even then, whitelighter healing is the best solution, but not the only one. He’s loathe to attempt a healing spell on his brother, just in case it goes wrong, but he knows the stasis ones well enough. Dean won’t like being put in a glass case like Snow White, but it’ll keep him alive while Sam finds a solution.

“Sam!”

He turns to see Chris striding toward him and he should be relieved, he is relieved, but the terror and stress he’s been managing since yesterday all course through him at once and come out as rage. He grabs the front of Chris’s shirt and slams him into the wall, thankful there’s no one around. “Where the hell have you been?”

Chris doesn’t fight him, not that it would do him much good to try. Chris may be the stronger witch, but Sam can hand him his ass easily. “Sam-”

“Dean electrocuted himself saving children,” he says, “He almost died! He – they said – his heart–” It’s almost too much for him all over again, but then he notices the blood down Chris’s neck, the smell of smoke clinging to his clothes, the bone deep exhaustion that Chris is so good at hiding from everyone except for him and Wyatt and occasionally Phoebe. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Sam wonders if his grip is pressing him down or holding him up. “There was a demon attack, we were in the underworld. They had Peyton, we didn’t,” he shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m your whitelighter, I should have–”

“Shut up,” Sam says gently. He pushes Chris’s hair aside, but whatever wound left the blood is long gone. “You’re not just my whitelighter. You’re my friend. I know you wouldn’t not answer for no reason, sorry, I just. It’s Dean.”

He offers him a weak grin. “Yeah, I know. Older brothers, right? Always causing problems.”

Chris knows that better than most.

“Sam, I can’t heal him here,” he says quietly.

“I know,” Sam says. “Secrecy, mortals, I get it. I’ll get him out of here and to the motel, then I’ll call you, alright?"

“Alright,” Chris says, then frowns. “What are you going to tell him? He’s going to have questions.”

“He’ll get over it,” Sam says firmly. “I wouldn’t expose you guys like that.”

Chris shrugs. “I mean, I get why you don’t want to tell him, with your dad and everything, but he does have a right to know. Just because his powers are bound doesn’t mean he’s not a witch too.”

Sam stares.

He frowns. “What?”

“You,” he starts, then changes tracks. “Dean’s a witch?”

Now Chris is the one staring. “Of course he is. It runs in families. If you’re a witch, Dean’s a witch. He’s just had his powers bound and you haven’t.”

“But,” he starts. “Why?”

He shrugs. “You were too young. Doing it before the child’s first birthday can lead to, uh, some strange results.”

Sam understands that him being a witch descended from Melinda Warren means his mother was a witch, but he’d never really thought about it before. She knew what he was, what Dean was, and had planned to keep it from them forever. If she hadn’t died when he was six months old, she would have bound his powers too.

He doesn’t know how to feel about that. He doesn’t have the space to figure it out now. “Okay. Well, that’s probably a conversation more appropriate for when he doesn’t have a heart condition. Go, clean up, I’ll call you when we’re ready.” Chris nods, but before he goes Sam grabs his wrist. “Hey. Peyton’s okay, right?”

He grins. “She’s good. And maybe next time she won’t think it’s a good idea to sneak to the underworld alone.”

Knowing Peyton, it probably won’t be much of a deterrent.

~

Dean isn’t afraid of dying.

It’s just that this is a really bad time.

Dad’s missing, the demon that killed their mother is after Sam’s girlfriend, never mind what the hell is going on with Sam and the weirdo vision he’d had about their house. Vision. It’s enough for sweat to prick out over his skin in worry.

And now this, him frying his heart and leaving Sam on his own, the one thing he never wanted to do.

“Hey.”

He looks up, trying to force a smirk, but it falls off and he’s just left blinking. Sam’s lost the stubborn fragility he had before, smiling at him like everything’s going to be fine. Maybe it will be. There’s a jump in his chest that he thinks might be hope and not his heart giving out on him.

“We’re getting out of here,” Sam says, slapping his leg. “AMA, come on, you know the drill.”

“Alright,” he says, bemused. If he’s going to die, he hadn’t been all that keen to do it in a hospital bed anyway.

The doctor is less than impressed. Dean lets do Sam do all the talking and eventually the doctor rounds on him and demands, “Why are you doing this? It makes no sense!”

He actually has no idea why he’s doing this, so he just shrugs. “If my brother says we’re going, then we’re going.”

Which is apparently not the right answer by the way he goes white to the lips, but Sam smiles at him, so he really can’t bring himself to care.

They eventually get out there, Sam helping him from the wheelchair to the Impala, and being back in his baby, even in the passenger side, is another hit of relief. Of course they reach a second problem when they get to the motel and Dean realizes he’s not certain he can make it to the door.

Sam rolls his eyes, parking the car as close to the room as they can get, and says, “Don’t be a baby. I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”

He considers arguing against it, but he’s exhausted, there’s no one around, and he’s already lost a significant amount of big brother credibility by getting fried in the first place.

“Shut up,” he mutters, but only rolls his eyes before looping an arm around Sam’s neck. He grimaces when Sam gets an arm under his knees, lifting him up with at least a grunt of effort. He’s kind of irritated that his baby brother can lift him this easily at all, even though it’s not exactly a surprise. Sam’s grown up a lot since he left for Stanford, adding inches of height and muscle, and it’s not exactly like he was a weakling when he left. Still, being carried by his little brother like a princess is almost as bad for his ego as nearly dying in the first place.

Sam doesn’t comment on it, however, easing him down on the bed closest to the door, even though he’d be a speed bump at best to anything coming after them. It sends a well of fondness through him that he expresses through a scowl.

“Lay down and keep your eyes shut, okay?” Sam says. “No matter what you hear or feel.”

Dean blinks at him. He figured Sam had a plan, but he hadn’t expected it to be so immediate. “Why? What are you doing?”

“Not letting you die,” he answers promptly. “Don’t argue with me. It’s not going to hurt. Just trust me for five minutes, okay?”

He’s been trusting Sam for a lot longer than five minutes. “Fine, whatever.”

He lays down on his own, because he can at least do that, and Sam doesn’t look nervous or worried or guilty, so whatever thing he’s about to try is probably fine. Although he really has no idea what the hell Sam thinks he’s going to pull out that can fix his heart, but he closes his eyes and waits.

There’s the sound of the door opening and closing, which he hadn’t expected. A moment later it opens again, but there are two sets of footsteps. He tenses. “Sam?”

“It’s alright,” Sam says, his large hand settling warm and comfortable on Dean’s shoulder. “Just relax.”

Relax? How the hell does Sam expect him to relax when –

There’s a hand on his chest, one he doesn’t recognize, and he barely keeps from leaping off the bed. Then there’s a warmth, something comforting, like being held by his mother or his dad’s proud look or how it feels every time Sam reaches for him. Then he’s breathing in, chest expanding comfortably in a way it hasn’t since he was electrocuted. He’s not cold anymore, not exhausted, the creeping feeling of death chasing him whisked away in a matter of seconds.

It leaves him terrified.

“Sam?” he says, and it takes everything to keep his eyes squeezed shut.

There’s the sound of the door opening and closing again and Sam says, “It’s okay, you’re okay,” and Dean’s eyes pop open and he’s shoving himself onto his feet.

It’s nothing, it’s easy, just like it was a day ago. Sam is smiling, relieved and okay, and Dean grabs onto his shoulders and shakes him. “What was that? Who was that? What did you do, Sammy?”

“A friend,” Sam says. “Dean, don’t worry, it didn’t cost me anything.”

He scoffs. “Right, because what – hoodoo priests and witches or whatever the hell that was just help out hunters from the goodness of their hearts? What did you do?”

Sam presses a hand to his chest, where his heart is now beating strong and sure in his chest, none of that stuttery crap of before. “I didn’t give anything. It’s okay. Sometimes people just help each other out because they’re good people, Dean. Like you do, when you saved those kids last night.”

“We saved those kids,” he corrects, because he wouldn’t have been able to both fight the rawhead and get the kids out on his own. He and Sam did it together.

“Right,” Sam says, mouth tugged up in the corner. “There’s no trick, no price. They’re someone I know that was willing to help, that’s all.”

Dean presses for more information, but Sam refuses to give it, and eventually he has to give it up. At least for now.

He’s glad he’s alive. He’s glad he won’t be leaving Sam alone.

And most of all, he’s glad he’s going to be around to pry out of Sam whatever secrets he’s keeping from him.

let the beltane fires burn

The Halliwells are descended from Melinda Warren, are the branch in which the greatest power resides, the line that would birth the most powerful witches to walk the earth.

It's not the only line.

Deanna knows about hunters, knows what they don’t know and don’t understand and that they killed her family. But Samuel didn’t kill her family. Samuel’s a good man who saves innocents, the same way she was raised to, if not how she was raised to do it.

She’s all alone. It’s not safe to be a witch.

The day before her wedding, she binds her powers.

When Mary is a year and a day, she does the same to her. It’s safer this way. Better. The world is so unkind to witches, even ones like them, born into it, with their power baked into their blood. Better to fight evil with bullets and knives than the strange terrible thing she’s destined to give her daughter, that her daughter is destined to pass along to her own daughters.

She never tells Samuel. There’s no reason to.

When Mary is old enough, when she’s talking of running and rebelling and all those things Samuel thinks will never come to pass and Deanna knows almost certainly will – running and rebelling is in her blood as surely as the magic, but there’s no binding potion for that – she tells her daughter what they are. What she’ll have to do to keep her future daughters safe, if she has them. It’s the only potion she ever teaches Mary how to brew, the only one she’ll ever need.

The day after Dean’s first birthday, Marry brews the potion and feeds it to him. He cries more after, doesn’t settle as quickly, and John worries and Mary reassures him and tells herself she’s done the right thing. Whatever it is that Dean feels he’s lost, he’s better off without it. She’s going to be normal. Her children are going to be normal.

She intends to do the same for Sammy, but she burns above his crib when he’s six months old.

~

John sees Sammy levitate a toy towards him when he’s two years old and shouts so loudly that he drops it, tears running down his face and wailing in the face of his father’s anger. Dean comes running from the other room and reaches for Sammy, letting his brother’s chubby fingers tangle in his shirt. “What’s wrong?” he asks, eyes wide.

He doesn’t answer, rubbing his hand over his face and heart pounding in his chest.

What did that demon do to his son?

What did it turn him into?

Is Sammy even human anymore?

He doesn’t react to salt, to holy water, to silver. John loses his temper every time something moves inexplicably and eventually it stops, by the time Sam’s in kindergarten he’s just like all the other kids.

John watches, fear and suspicion and something uglier caught up inside of him.

What is his son?

~

Sam figures out young that he’s a freak.

Dad and Dean just think he’s weak, just think he has nightmares, and he lets them. He only practices the telekinesis when he’s alone and every time he almost gathers the courage to tell his brother or father about it, to finally come clean, he’s viciously reminded how much they hate the things they hunt, how they’d never accept it, accept him, and as soon as he tells them what he is, he’ll lose them.

He doesn’t know what he is, really. Only that he’s not normal.

Eventually he stops seeing things in his sleep, instead getting them when he’s awake, more vivid and real than the monsters that plague his dreams. He sees people being hurt, people who need help, and it goes against everything he’s been taught to leave them to their fate.

But how can he explain it to his family? He can’t.

He’s thirteen the first time he sneaks out and saves a woman from one of his visions, finding her in the dark alley he’d seen her die in. He puts a bullet in the man’s chest, but it barely stops him, and then she and him both are getting a fireball thrown at them.

Sam shoves his hand in front of him, pushing back against the heat, refusing to die the same way his mother died.

The fireball returns to the man, catching him in the chest and he screams, disappearing into the fire until he’s nothing more than a smudge on the ground.

“Wow,” the woman breathes. Sam turns to her, trying to come up with some sort of explanation, when she continues, “I’ve never met a witch with active powers before.”

“I’m not a witch,” he says automatically, thinking of bargains made with demons, of hex bags and rotting meat and blood sacrificed.

She looks between him and the smudge on the ground incredulously. “Are you sure about that?”

Yes. No.

He doesn’t know what he is.

She leads him back to her apartment, stacks books into hix arms, and then makes him a sandwich when his stomach rumbles. His age worries her, his ignorance worries her even more, and everything she’s saying sounds like kooky new age bullshit except for the way that it explains everything he’s never been able to.

There are witches and demons and monsters nothing like anything his father’s ever talked about.

~

It’s easy to research, at least, because his dad thinks there’s a kernel of truth in every piece of supernatural bullshit. Dean makes fun of him for digging into girly, feel-good crap rather than the harder stuff, but his dad just seems relieved he’s taking an interest all. Sam starts taking notes, keeps them all in a folder until Dad buys him a journal, patting his back when he hands it over like it’s a rite of passage.

To Dad, it’s his first hunting journal.

Sam runs his hand down the soft leather spine and knows he’s starting his book of shadows.

The visions don’t stop. He saves more innocents, some witches and some mortal, and keeps the record of all the creatures he’s killed in Latin to discourage Dad and Dean from snooping. He uses his telekinesis on hunts only when there’s no other option, only when there’s someone’s life on the line, and he’s as careful as he can be not to get caught.

It should be a relief, to find out there are other people like him, to know that he’s a force for good in the world.

There’s no way he can explain the existence of a different type of witches to his father without putting a target on their backs.

Some witches have been targeted by hunters, ones who were trying to help but got caught in the crossfire, ones that had turned evil and needed to be stopped, but it’s not often he finds a witch that regards hunters with anything but fear. At least when his family are the ones sniffing around, he can give them a heads up, can tell them how to avoid their attention.

He’s had a lot of practice, after all.

~

Sam is sixteen when he’s a little too slow.

The innocent is safe and the demon is killed, but his chest is torn open and he’s bleeding out on the pavement.

“Oh no, oh no,” the woman he’d saved chants, pressing her hands against him, even though it’s pointless, even though it just sends a bolt of pain through him. Fuck. He doesn’t want to die. Dean is going to devastated. “Paige! Help me! Paige!”

There’s a bright light in the corner of his eyes and an woman around his dad’s age with bright hair red hair is leaning over him.

Then she touches him, but her touch doesn’t hurt.

He looks down and the wound on his chest closes, skin clear and unharmed, pain retreating to only a memory.

“He saved me,” the woman says. “He can move things!”

The redhead’s eyebrows rise. “You have active powers?”

They’re always so surprised by that. Sam’s more impressed with the fact that she just healed him. “I get premonitions too. What are you?”

“You get,” she starts then cuts herself off. “Where’s your whitelighter?”

He stares. “My what?”

She raises a hand to her head and groans. “Oh, someone’s really messed up somewhere. Leo!”

~

Guardian angels are real, called whitelighters, and apparently witches with active powers who go around saving innocents are supposed to have them to help keep them from getting themselves killed in the process.

Leo, who’s something called an elder with a kind face, says an unconventional witch deserves an unconventional whitelighter.

Chris Halliwell is his age, half witch, and also has telekinesis.

Oh, and he’s apparently his cousin. His very, very, very distant cousin.

“Are all witches related?” he asks incredulously.

“No,” Chris says, long dark hair and hazel eyes doing more to aid his claim of family than the spell his mother had cast. He and Chris look more related than him and Dean do. “We’d thought all the other branches of the Warren line had died out. You’re a surprise.”

Great. He’s a freak even among witches.

~

It’s so much easier now that he’s not desperately trying to piece together everything on his own, with only the occasional help from the innocents he saves. Chris is sarcastic and annoying and funny and more than having a guardian angel, Sam’s relieved to just have a friend he doesn’t have to lie to for once.

The Halliwell house, with its potion ingredients and powerful witches and home cooking, is only an orb away. He mostly hangs out with Chris, of course, but Piper always invites him to stay for dinner and Paige checks in on him, feeling somewhat responsible for him since she met him first, and Wyatt’s friendly enough but Chris sends him packing whenever Sam’s there.

He’s pulling doubletime when it comes to saving innocents, doing it as a witch and as a hunter, and he’s still maintaining straight As on top of it all while lying about half his life to his father and brother. It’s a stack of cards that’s bound to fall apart.

Going to Stanford is about more than just escaping his father.

It gets him close enough to San Francisco that he won’t need to be orbed to the Halliwells. It’s supposed to give him some breathing room, to let him focus on being a witch, to let him get his education. He does more good as a witch than as a hunter, but it’s not like that’s something he can explain to his family.

He’d wanted out, needed out, before he gets himself or someone else killed trying to balance it all. But he hadn’t thought his father would kick him out. He hadn’t thought Dean would let him.

He goes to the bus station but doesn’t buy a ticket. He calls Chris and spends the rest of the summer at Halliwell manor, burying all his hurt under training with Chris and saving people and getting ready to start college in September.

~

Jess wears a pentacle around her neck and keeps salt in small bowls in each of the cardinal directions and Sam doesn’t intend to tell her that he’s a witch, but when he ends up saving her from a darklighter attack, that decision is taken out of his hands. Coming clean about the hunter part takes longer, but it’s a bit of an easier sell once the knowledge of the supernatural is already out there. The thing that surprised her most of all is that things like bullets and steel can be used successfully against monsters, rather than the existence of monsters themselves.

Three years later when Dean shows up at their door, Sam can’t bring himself to deny him. It’s one weekend. He’d never wanted to lose his family in the first place.

When he returns home to Jessica pinned to the ceiling, he doesn’t even have to think.

He yanks her down, catching her in his arms just as fire effulges the place she’d been. He pushes the fire away from them, but it fights him harder than demonic fire usually does and leaves his hands burned and blistering. He doesn’t care. Jess is bleeding and in shock but still alive, breath rattling against him. “CHRIS!”

Dean’s yelling for him, but Sam can’t let him in. He throws his hand out, keeping his bedroom door closed even as his brother throws his body against it, still screaming his name.

Chris orbs in, eyes going huge. “Sam, what-”

“Heal her then go,” he snaps, the smoke already hurting his throat. “I’ll explain later.”

He puts his glowing hands over her bleeding stomach and the wound closes, her body going slack and her breathing easing even as her eyes roll back.

Sam tenses. “Is she-”

“Fine, let’s go, your hands,” Chris says, hands already glowing as he reaches for him.

“SAM!” Dean shouts, sounding like he’s about two seconds away from trying to shoot through the door.

“You can heal me later,” he says. “Thank you. Go.”

Chris shoots him a bitchy look that Paige says they share and then he orbs away. The fire’s covered almost the entire room now and Sam finally lets go of the door.

Dean stumbles in, pale, already reaching for him.

Sam stands and finds his knees buckling, gritting his teeth to keep himself upright. “Take her,” he says urgently, pressing Jess into his brother’s arms. “We have to go.”

“You think?” he snaps, but he’s gentle with Jess. Sam shoves him towards the door, slamming it behind him just as it surges after them. Keeping the flames from killing them is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. No wonder he’s exhausted.

They stumble downstairs, away from the fire, and someone’s already called the ambulance.

The story’s an easy sell because it’s not like anyone would believe the truth. They say Jess took sleeping pills and Sam came home to flames. He pulled Jess out and has the burns to prove it. Dean saw the flames in the window and went up, helping to get them both out.

It’s almost true.

“He had yellow eyes,” Jess tells him after. “He was – Sam, I’ve seen demons, I’ve fought demons. He’s something else.”

“Different kind of demons,” Sam says. There’s the underworld, and there’s hell. Underworld demons go after witches mostly. Hell demons go after mortals and are a lot harder to kill, ironically. “It’s the same demon that killed my mother, Jess, and now it’s after you. I have to take care of this.”

Dean’s too relieved about Sam’s determination to rejoin the hunt to question him too closely about all this. He knows better than to think that will last for very long.

Chris agrees to watch over Jess for him even though she’s not technically one of his charges. They layer protection spells on her, including one cast by the power of three, and even this yellow eyed demon will be hard pressed to break through that.

Hell demons are tricky. They’re not as susceptible to witch magic. But Sam’s not just a witch.

He’s a hunter too.

[luvvictoria]

"Well, I guess what hurt me most of all You were playing with my heart Tell me why am I emotional When I knew it from the start?"

She doesn’t know why she keeps trying. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s stupidity. Maybe it’s just the way he looks at her when he thinks she’s not paying attention — like he wants to say something, like there’s a war raging behind his eyes.

But Ghost never says anything. Not really.

So she does it for him.

“You don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.”

It’s late. The barracks are quiet, save for the occasional hum of distant voices and the low murmur of the television in the common room. She found him here, like always, sitting in the corner as if he was trying to disappear into the walls.

Ghost doesn’t look at her. Just keeps his hands wrapped around a mug of long-cold coffee, fingers twitching like he wants to clench them into fists. “Go to bed.”

She doesn’t move. “Not until you talk to me.”

“Nothing to talk about.” His voice is flat, practiced indifference, but she’s heard the weight beneath it before. He’s pushing her away. Again.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says, softer this time. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t care.”

He finally looks at her. And it hurts.

His eyes are unreadable, but his silence says everything. I can’t. I won’t.

“You have made your decision Put me in my place And the lies you've been hiding Taking up your space"

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Her voice cracks, and she hates it, hates that she’s let him pull her in this deep when all he does is shove her out. “You think pushing me away will make it easier?”

He exhales sharply. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me. Make me understand.”

Ghost is quiet for so long she thinks — hopes — he might finally say something real. But when he does, it’s a whisper, barely audible.

“You should stop waiting for something that’ll never happen.”

Her breath catches. “You don’t mean that.”

His expression doesn’t change. Cold. Guarded. As if this is easy for him, as if it doesn’t hurt just as much as it hurts her.

“You deserve better.”

“That’s not your decision to make.”

His jaw tightens. His grip on the mug goes white-knuckled. “Go.”

And that’s it.

Something inside her cracks, splintering into something jagged and aching. She swallows the lump in her throat, blinking hard against the sting in her eyes. She nods, once, then turns to leave.

She doesn’t say goodbye.

Because if he wants to be alone, she won’t stop him. Not anymore.

Ghost watches her go. Watches the way her shoulders tremble for just a second before she disappears around the corner. He exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, fingers flexing, releasing the tension that’s settled deep into his bones.

This is for the best.

It has to be.

Then why does it feel like he’s bleeding?

“Tell me, why does my heart burn When I see your face?”

He lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand over his face. He’s so fucking stupid. Because the answer is yes. He does. He always has.

And now it’s too late.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He sits in the same chair, staring at the door she walked through, replaying every moment in his head. The way her voice shook. The way she hesitated, just for a second, like she wanted him to stop her.

But he didn’t.

Because he’s a coward.

The next morning, she’s gone before he even sees her. No lingering glances. No casual jokes. No warmth. Just empty space where she used to be, and it’s his fault.

She doesn’t try again. Doesn’t sit next to him anymore. Doesn’t reach out.

And it fucking kills him.

“Lover, why you been hiding From the places we’ve been?”

Everywhere he looks, he sees her ghost. The chair she used to sit in. The hallway where they used to walk side by side. The training field where she would flash him a grin before taking him down like she had something to prove.

And maybe she did. Maybe she just wanted to prove she was worth staying for.

But he never let her.

So she stopped trying.

Ghost clenches his fists, staring at the empty seat across from him, the silence stretching like an ocean between them.

He drowns in it.

“And tell me, why does my heart burn this way When I see your face?”

He has no answer.

[bybobbysbeard]

The Last Few Hours

Day 10 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: sleepy cuddles read on ao3 read other days here

Buck wakes to the soft, muted sound of a rainstorm. Everything else is quiet and far away. It must be late, or very early. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. It's peaceful here, in that slow, syrupy place between sleep and wakefulness. He’s curled up on his side, a warm body pressed up behind him. There’s a broad, masculine chest against his back and thick thighs brushing the backs of his legs. A heavy arm rests on his side, fingers absently stroking over his stomach. Soft lips touch the back of his neck. They’re so close, not an atom of space between them. 

He would know that body anywhere. It’s as familiar to him as his own.  

Buck rubs his face into the pillow. The rough, starchy fabric snags on his stubble. That’s… wrong. Buck converted Tommy to his fabric softener immediately after moving in. Their sheets don’t feel like this. Also, they’re both fully dressed for some reason.

He opens his eyes. Instead of the cream-coloured walls of their bedroom, he’s looking at the empty bunk across from him.

He’s in the communal bunkroom. Nearly all the lights are off, and the blackout shades are drawn. One bedside lamp casts a cool white light over their corner of the room. 

That’s right, he’s at work. Trying to nap away the last few hours of agonizingly long 72 hr shift. 

He goes to turn over, but the arm on his waist weighs him down, one large hand spreading out over his belly and holding him still. “Shh, baby. There’s not enough room.”

“Tommy? Why’re you here?” He reaches down, over the sheets; tracing rough knuckles and blunt nails. That hand flexes, pressing him into the body behind him. 

Tommy’s low voice warms the back of his neck. “Your shift’s over. I came to pick you up.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He yawns, blinking and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “I usually set an alarm, but I guess I forgot.”

“Don't worry about it.” His hand goes back to rubbing Buck’s stomach. “Hen mentioned your leg was bothering you, so when you didn’t wake up with everyone else, they let you sleep. How bad is it?” 

Buck takes stock, bending his knee gently and rotating his ankle. It throbs dully, but considering the amount of calls over the last three days, it could be worse. “Not too bad. It’s sore. The rain makes it ache sometimes.”

“I remember.” That aquiline nose runs along the side of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Why are you in a bunk with me? Not that I’m complaining.”

Tommy laughs softly, warm breath gusting over Buck’s hair. “Well, Bobby sent me in to wake you up, but you didn’t answer when I called your name, and then you just looked so cute. I couldn’t resist.”

“Tommy!” He knows he’s whining, but if his family finds his boyfriend spooning him in the bunk room, the teasing will actually kill him.

“Oh hush, only Bobby is still here. I saw Hen and Howie leave, and Eddie was already gone when I pulled up. I’m not giving them any more ammunition.” Another kiss is pressed to his neck, and Buck can’t help but relax back into the mattress. It really is too small for the two of them and the white sheets have been washed thin and bleached half-to-death. The pillow is so flat, it’s basically flush with the mattress. The whole setup is miles away from their comfortable bed at home. 

But Buck is still so tired. And Tommy is so warm.

Tommy jostles him. His eyes pop open again; he hadn’t meant to close them. He can feel Tommy smile against his skin. “Evan, sweetheart, don’t fall back asleep. At some point, Bobby will come in here. And he will probably take pictures.”

Buck groans. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Let me up.”

Cool air rushes in behind him when Tommy shifts away, making him shiver. The rain gets louder against the roof. There’s some quiet shuffling as Tommy gets to his feet, straightens his clothes and walks around the bunk to face Buck. 

Buck braces himself, and carefully swings his legs off the bed. His foot tingles as blood flows through the swollen limb. He knows if the alarm was ringing, he’d be sprinting into his turnouts. And hurting. More than five years post-bombing, his leg still has limits that he can’t ignore. It’s frustrating. If he hadn’t picked up a shift in the middle of his week, he wouldn’t need to be this careful with himself. But he doesn’t regret it. Having someone from B-shift owe him a favour is always worth it. He mostly just regrets that all of his family has medical training. They usually notice him favouring his leg before he does. 

Tommy is standing in front of him. He’s muted to monochrome by the dim lighting. His well-worn jeans look silver, his black t-shirt is a void. The blue of his eyes is washed out to grey. He holds out his hands, open palms facing up. 

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“I know. Can I help anyway?”  

Buck looks up at him. There’s nothing hiding in his open expression, no pity or judgement. He didn’t think there would be, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from checking. He puts his hands in Tommy’s. The bed frame squeaks as he’s pulled upright. A strong arm wraps around his middle while he finds his balance. When he's steady, Tommy leans in, peppering gentle kisses over his cheeks and lips. Buck sways forward, letting his boyfriend take his weight. The kisses taper off, until they're just standing there, forehead to forehead, wrapped around each other. Tommy pulls back a few inches and smiles at him. 

“Ready to go home?”

[raiiny-bay]

meet my couple - dhes & kel vs. red & teeth

ty for the tags @hell-dusk, @salemssimblr, & @lynzishell <3

i felt compelled to do both.

tagging: @vicciouxs, @teddybearsims, @mattodore, @gashface, & @lilamausmaus (no pressure ofc)

[ofstarsandvibranium]

And Action!

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Movie Star!Bucky x Journalist!Reader fic.

Summary: The chemistry between you, a journalist, and Bucky, a movie star, is undeniable. After dancing around each other for the past year, Bucky’s ready for the game to end.

“Y/N!” your break out into a wide grin as Bucky exclaims your name. He approaches you with a big smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

You’ve been waiting with the other journalists along the red carpet, chatting with the cast and crew of the new movie The Queen’s Shadow.

The main stars are Yelena Belova and Bucky Barnes. You’d just finished interviewing Yelena and now Bucky is headed your way.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s good to see you again!”

He chuckles, “You as well and,” he turns to his assistant and accepts the thermos, “Hot chocolate like I promised.”

You can’t help but cackle, “I was hoping you’d remember.”

He shrugs, a grin on his lips, “Of course. I promised you, didn’t I?”

You take a moment to open the thermos and take a little sip of the beverage. Your body instantly warms from the hot drink but as well as the sweet comforting taste of the chocolate, “You were right. You make a mean hot chocolate.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Bucky responds with a chuckle.

You then set the thermos to the side, “Okay. So congrats on the movie. Everyone’s prayers have been answered because you’ve finally gone back to your roots being in rom-coms. How does it feel?”

“So fun. Don’t get me wrong. The action movies I’ve done recently are fun too, but rom-coms are a different kind of fun. I can be a little goofy, be a complete dork while also be charming-“

“Basically be more of yourself?” You ask with a smirk.

He snorts, “Yes! Basically! And to work alongside Yelena, who’s, ya know, one of my best friend’s sister, was really a treat because this is her big debut. I was able to watch and guide her. Even though sometimes we’d get into arguments here and there because we’re like siblings. But yeah, it was fun.”

“Was it a little weird to play love interests since you two are like siblings?”

“At first, yeah. But we discussed it and, ya know, this is our job as actors. Whatever our personal relationship is, it doesn’t matter when we’re on set. We’ve got a job to do so we went and did it.”

“Did Nat threaten you at all when she heard you and Yelena would be working with each other?”

Bucky scoffs, “Of course, Nat did. But I get it. She’s just protective of her sister. I’m like that with my sister so I can’t fault her for that.”

You nod in understanding. You always enjoyed talking with Bucky because conversations with him were so easy and he was always so passionate about the projects he’s worked on.

“Alright, now for the hard hitting question.”

Bucky nods and rubs his hands together, “Okay, watcha got for me?”

You take a deep breath and lean closer, “Who would win in a fight: Mason Rhodes or Jayce Ryder?” Mason Rhodes is his character in The Queen’s Shadow and Jayce Ryder is his character in his previous action movie franchise.

Bucky chuckles, “Oh that’s a hard one…probably Mason.”

“Really?” You ask him in surprise.

He shrugs, “Well not to spoil too much, Mason was trained to fight and know how to protect the Queen. Jayce, while he does know how to fight, he’s self-trained and a little sloppy. Kinda fights more with his heart while Mason fights with his brain, you know?”

You nod, “Makes sense!” You see Bucky’s assistant pull on his sleeve to let him know he needs to move on, “Well, I’ll let you continue down the line. It was great speaking with you! And thanks again for the hot chocolate!”

“Of course! It was great seeing you. See you next time!” He gives you a wink and a wave and follows where his publicist guides him next.

—————-

Not many journalists are invited to after parties. However, your friend, Joaquin, a PA who worked on the film, invited you as his plus one.

You’re chatting with him by the hors d’oeuvres table when Bucky approaches, “Hi,” he’s a little more shy this time. He turns to Joaquin, giving him a nod, “Torres.”

“Bucky,” Joaquin says with a big smile, “Movie was great, man!”

“Oh, thanks! Yeah, it-it was fun.” Bucky looks back at you, “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod, “Your performance was great, but I enjoyed Yelena’s a little bit more.”

He chuckles, “I understand. She was amazing.”

“Oh! I see Sam. I’ll be right back!” Joaquin excused himself to talk to the other actor.

Bucky clears his throat, “So, uh, you drink all the hot chocolate?”

You shake your head, “It’s in my car. Saving the rest for later. But did you really come here to talk to me about hot chocolate, Bucky?” You ask with a smirk.

You and Bucky have been dancing around each other for the past year. You’ve worked with him a lot over the last few years but it wasn’t until recently that your interviews with him started getting a little more playful and flirty.

Sometimes it was you that really upped the playful, flirty vibes. Other times, it was Bucky. Neither of you were put off by it. It was all in good fun and definitely gave Bucky a lot of publicity.

“Not really. I actually wanted to ask if you were tired.”

Your brows furrow and your head tilts to side in confusion, “Tired?”

“Of this game we’ve been doing lately?” That shy demeanor is replaced with that teasing, playfulness you’ve encountered before.

“I don’t know, Barnes. Are you?”

“I am.”

“So,” you step closer to him, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Bucky glances at your lips and then licks his own, “Well, I was thinking we can finally exchange numbers and I take you on a date.”

“That right? Where do you plan to take me?”

“I have a place in mind.”

You pout, “You’re not gonna tell me?”

“You’ll find out if you say yes.”

You sigh, “You really wanna date me? I’m a journalist. I could spill all your dirty secrets.”

He cocks a brow at you, “That what you plan to do?”

You scoff, “Fuck no. I’d never.”

“And that’s why I wanna date you, among other things.”

“Tell me,” you step even closer to him.

He smirks, “I will,” he leans in, lips hovering over yours, “on our date.”

He steps back and you realize your phone is now in his hands, “Hey!” You exclaim with a laugh, and he laughs with you.

“I may have learned a thing or two from my action movies,” he hands you your phone so you can unlock it. You hand it back to him when you do and he inputs his number.

He hands you his own phone and you enter in your number.

“I’ll be busy this week for premiere stuff but afterwards, I have some down time before I start my next project. I’ll call you when I’m free to hash out the details?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Perfect. I gotta continue making my rounds, but enjoy the rest of your night,” he leaves you again with another wink and a fluttering in your chest.

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 4

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Gone.

The only word that ran through your mind as you lay in bed staring into space.

He was gone again and you thought the last time was bad. Now you’re here in his bed, his house, but he won’t be coming home.

You weren’t his wife let alone his girlfriend, but he designated you his beneficiary. All of his belongings, his money, but you would give it all just to have him back.

The Hunter’s Association had placed you on bereavement leave but you didn't want to stay in your cold, lonely house. At least here in his home, you could be close to him in some way.

You felt a small flutter in your stomach, placing a hand on it, you pressed back. You were 16 weeks now, the baby had just started moving to the pint that you could feel it just a bit.

It felt like a bubble expanding inside before popping. All that was left of Caleb in this world for you now.

When you had first learned that you were pregnant, it had been a happy surprise. But now it felt like the universe had given you this child knowing what would happen down the line.

You didn’t want a consolation prize, you wanted Caleb.

He deserved to be here. Feeling these first movements, oo and aahing over your burgeoning belly, fattening you up with good food.

Picking out furniture for the nursery, buying tiny baby socks, holding your hand as you groaned over round ligament pain.

You turned onto your back, dead eyes watching dust motes float across the ceiling.

Hunger was a stranger to you this past week. You set up a basket next to the bed full of crackers, dried fruit, protein bars and a bottle of electrolyte water.

You didn’t care much for yourself but this baby, Caleb’s baby deserved the world.

This baby deserved their daddy!

You thumped your fist into the duvet beside you. Tears leaked a bit from the sides of your eyes.

Emotions spilling over, gasping a bit, you had to get this out! Grabbing your phone, you opened your camera.

Caleb would never see these but you had to talk to him somehow.

Even with the camera on, all you could do was sob.

“Caleb…… Caleb….. why did you have to leave me again?”

Saying his name like a prayer, like it would bring him home if you said it enough.

“Losing you once was hard enough but now I know what you feel like. How it feels to be wrapped in you all night. Losing you again is like I’m half a person now.”

Your chest feels wet from all the fallen tears and wiping your face does nothing to staunch the flow.

“The only reason I feel like I’m going on now is because of this little bean.”

Placing your hand on your stomach, you feel a resounding flutter. Which makes you smile pathetically.

“They’re moving now. I can feel them and it’s the only thing that excites me now. I was so scared that I might lose them too actually.”

Your heart clenches at the thought of losing the last piece of Caleb that you have.

“I have your house, your clothes, everything you left behind. I wanted you but I still have this.”

You rub your hand over your stomach, showing your stomach to the camera

“Look,” you sniffle as you know he never will now “I’m finally popping out a bit. A real pregnancy belly.”

Turning the camera, you show off your basket of emergency baby food.

“Don’t come down from heaven, wait, if you can please do that. But don’t worry, I’m still eating as well as I can under the circumstances and drinking water.”

Shakily breathing, you look into the camera as if Caleb is on the other side.

“I miss you. I love you.”

Shutting the camera off, emotionally spent. You curled back up in Caleb’s duvet, it still had a little bit of his scent left behind but that would soon fade.

Just like he did.

Your phone buzzes, a text coming through. Grabbing it to see, you notice the missed calls and texts from Jenna, Tara, Xavier asking about you. You couldn’t deal with them right now.

The new text was a text reminder from your OB about your appointment in a few days. They only want to see you every four weeks at this point.

You had let them know about your circumstances and they let you know what to watch out for in case something did happen.

Well in case, you didn’t want to even think about it, but in case you started losing the baby.

“Please be safe little one.” Brushing over them with a gentle hand, they were all you had left to love in this world.

The morning of your OB appointment, you head back to Linkon to visit Akso Hospital.

It was a quiet but dreary morning. The middle of winter was upon the world so you were bundled up. Your small bump more pronounced under the winter coat.

Waiting in the lobby after checking in, you sit next to another pregnant woman.

She glances at you and smiles a bit before nodding in greeting.

“How far along are you?”

“Oh, I’m 16 weeks but almost 17 weeks.”

“Wow!” She claps her hands, she looks to be much farther along than you.

“So you’ll be going in for your anatomy scan soon. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

“I actually haven’t given it much thought, I just hope they get here safely.”

“That’s my exact feeling! My husband wants a girl though. Does your partner have a preference?”

The question was innocently asked but it made your stomach twist.

“I don’t know if he did. He died before he found out that I was having a baby.”

The silence that followed was heavy. The other woman twists her hands and looks like she badly wants her name to be called next.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you. Not your fault, really.”

You smile a bit and then you hear your name called. Getting up a bit awkwardly, you trundle over to the nurse with the clipboard.

They weigh you before you bringing you into a small examination room. The OB comes in five minutes later, looking cheerful.

“How has your pregnancy been?”

“It’s been good, I started feeling them move a bit recently.”

“That’s great! Hopefully they’ll be cooperative in a few weeks when you come back in for your anatomy scan.”

“Ha, hopefully.” Your heart wasn’t really in this but it was necessary. Caleb would want you to have a good life with your baby.

“Everything good at home?” The OB asks this as she examines your belly while you lie down.

“It’s been rough. I’m worried that I’m going to do something wrong and I’ll lose the baby.”

“Yes I read in your chart about what happened. I’m sorry to hear about that. But, as long as you don’t overdo it and take care of yourself. There’s no reason to worry!”

She pulls her gloves off with a flourish

“After all! Your weight gain is back on track and everything else looks great. We do need you to do a gestational diabetes test but other than that. You are golden!”

This does bring some comfort to you, your efforts weren’t wasted after all.

You sit up and thank her with a small but genuine smile.

“If you need someone to talk to, I have a social worker and therapist you could contact.”

“Maybe.”

“Well I’ll put their information on your after visit paperwork, don’t forget to schedule your anatomy scan and you can come in anytime for your sugar test!”

Your OB leaves the room with a cheerful wave. At least that’s over now, you thought to yourself.

You exit the offices, going back into the lobby where thankfully the lady you had that awkward conversation with was gone.

“Are you here for an appointment?”

Turning around at the voice, it’s Zayne.

“Actually I just finished with my OB, I’m going to head home for the day.”

He reaches out and touches your shoulder, gently as if you’ll break from anything more.

“Why don’t you come get some lunch with me?”

“What you usually eat can’t be considered a proper lunch Zayne.”

“Really? Have your eating habits been exemplary as of late?”

“Well I do have an excuse but for your information, I am eating lots of basic things that I need. I won’t neglect my baby.”

“What about neglecting yourself?”

You look at that. That was a subject that was too difficult to talk about.

Zayne knew about the whole situation with you and Caleb now. You didn’t tell him before when your relationship had been all up in the air but it didn’t seem to matter now.

He sighed before motioning you to follow him.

“Come on, I’ll buy you something to eat.”

Well, you were due to eat anyway. So you followed him to the nearby cafe where you had ran into him before.

A basic sandwich was on the menu for you today.

Sitting down at the table with Zayne was a hint of normalcy that you hadn’t had in a while.

Picking at your sandwich listlessly, you stare out the window at the cloudy sky. All you did nowadays was think, letting your mind roam and thoughts were all you had to keep you company during lonely nights.

“Hey.” You turn your head head to meet Zayne’s eyes over your sad sandwich “Where you are you going off to?”

“My mind goes everywhere now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

He sips his drink, looking at you over the rim.

“You know, I knew Caleb too. We all grew up together. He got on my nerves but I missed him bugging me when I left when we were younger.”

Smiling at the thought of the two of them bantering when you guys were younger.

“Yeah, you guys always fought over my head. I was always stuck in the middle.”

He chuckles a bit before sobering.

“I’m worried about you, I want to help. I-“

Cutting himself off, he takes a deep breath as if preparing for something.

“I could marry you to help out.”

Your jaw drops

“You want to marry me?”

“I want to help you. I care about you and I’m offering this, you don’t have to but I just want you to know that I’m here for you however you need me.”

“Caleb left everything he had to me, I don’t need any money or a place to stay.”

“Just having someone there to rely on or to help with the baby even. Again, you don’t have to, it’s a no pressure offer. Okay?”

You had never heard Zayne talk like this, he must really be worried to express himself this much.

“I- well thank you Zayne, for the offer. But it’s not something I can even think about at this time.”

“I understand, it’s just an open offer.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you, you deserve a marriage where someone actually loves you. Someone who isn’t coming with the baggage of a dead love and another man’s baby.”

You pack your half a sandwich left, up in the box it came in.

“Thank you for lunch, I’ll head home now.”

Leaving before he can say a word, you head over to the transit center to head back to Skyhaven.

Caleb’s house was now your only true personal haven.

Laying down in your bed after putting the sandwich in the fridge, you let out a loud groan.

Why was everything such a mess?

A small flutter brought a smile to your face.

“At least I still have you little one.”

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08 @dummiebunny

[deadhands69]

Cute When You Stutter

loser!Shigaraki x gn/afab Reader

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[series masterlist]

The photos you posted with Shigaraki were pretty popular among your friends, most of whom were absolutely surprised at the news of you having a boyfriend (especially the people who recognized him from the news.) Among the notifications you received, one message from an old friend stands out:

you’re bringing him to my party tonight, right?

Honestly, you forgot about the party until now. It’s too late to bail though, you've said you'd be there multiple times by now. 

Back to your screen, there are already five likes on the comment and a handful of responses all indicating they want to meet your new guy.

I don’t know, you respond, he’s probably busy

Thinking that will end the conversation, you go about your day.

Checking your phone a few hours later, you find that your comment only sparked more discussion from people who your ex has already gotten to. Statements like he’d leave you alone at a valentine’s party and i heard this was fake flood your screen.

A fleeting thought tells you to drop it. Go on with your life and ignore anyone who questions you. None of it needs to be their business. 

Given that that’s not gone well for you with anything to do with your ex, you abandon that sort of thinking and push further. You’ll have to bring Shigaraki by eventually if you’re continuing this, might as well rip off the bandaid and get it over with today. 

You pause at Tomura’s door, remembering that the last time you saw him he was running from your room after cumming in his pants. Please don’t be more awkward than usual you repeat to yourself. Knocking briefly, you enter unceremoniously. He abandons his game, pulling the cat ear headset onto his neck. This is a massive departure from his usual response of grumbling at you for invading his privacy.

Cutting straight to the point, you ask if he’ll continue the dating charade in person. Noting that you’ll absolutely make it worth his while.

“All this for that guy?” he asks, wrinkling his nose at the thought.

“No! Not really? It’s just,” your voice is shaking in frustration, “I know he’ll tell everyone and I don’t want my friends to pity me or be weird about it.” 

“So, it’s not even about him. It’s about your old friends.”

“Exactly,” your voice sounds as desperate as you feel and you know he can sense that, “you don’t even have to stay for very long. And I’ll-”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” he says so casually that you’re not sure he fully understands what he agreed to.

“Thank you!” you exclaim, “it’s tonight. Leave at 8?”

“Okay,” he pulls his headset back on and returns to his game. As you leave, you barely hear him mumble under his breath, “if they still listen to what he says, I think you deserve better friends. No one here would ever do that.” 

Stumbling out the door of your bedroom, you realize with the amount of effort you put into looking presentable, you’re running slightly late. Shigaraki is waiting for you in the living room, having cleaned up surprisingly well. His hair is freshly washed, clothes clean, and whatever soap/deodorant combo he used smells amazing. For a moment, you forget why the two of you are going to this party together in the first place and begin to actually look forward to the evening. Giddy, even. You take a moment to remind yourself that this is the same guy who awkwardly huffs your laundry detergent because it smells like you, plays dating sims on full volume, and gets hard if you so much as glance in his direction. There’s no need to be nervous.

When you arrive, the party is already packed. Having expected a more quiet evening with maybe a few games or conversations, you’re a bit shocked to walk in and immediately see your ex trying to chug champagne from a beer bong.

“I should have warned you he’d be here,” one of your friends ushers the two of you into another room. “It’s just, you get it,” she pleads.

No, you don’t get it but you’ll keep the peace.

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumble, pouring sweet sparkling wine from a sticky bottle into two plastic cups. 

“Cheers!” you say, sloshing your drink into Tomura’s. Even in a room full of people you know, you find yourself preferring to spend time with him. You have to admit he’s growing on you.

After an hour of small talk and dragging around your awkward arm candy, Shigaraki excuses himself to find a restroom. Now’s as good a time as any to refill your cup for what you're guessing is either the fourth or seventh time so you head to the kitchen. Your asshole ex misses absolutely no time in cornering you.

“You look nice tonight,” he says, arms caging you into the counter. Without a verbal response, you glare at him before ducking under his arm and walking away, champagne bottle in hand. He yells after you, “come on, that guy? He probably fucks his fist every night crying over you.”

You know he does, the two of you share a wall. And it’s cute, that’s part of why you like him. Wait…what? You’ll come back to that thought later. Heading to find Tomura in a rush, you collide with him in the hallway. Maybe it’s the dizzying amount of drinks you’ve already had but he looks so kissable. And you did say you’d make tonight worth his while.

Pulling him into the nearest door you see, you find yourself in the bathroom. Perfect. 

He still has the deer in the headlights look on his face as you lock the door behind you. You set the bottle of champagne on the counter, pressing him into the corner between the door and wall. He whimpers at your touch.

Dragging your lips over his, you whisper “I thought you’d be used to me by now.” You kiss him slowly, drawing it out. He hums as you lightly suck his bottom lip between your teeth. “I mean, it’s not the first time I’ve touched you.” His mouth cracks open, letting you slide your tongue over his. “And I know what you do every night, the walls are thin. I hear it when you moan my name.”

He blushes at the thought, wanting to be ashamed but he can't. Not with the way your sweet lips linger on his.

Your hand trails down the front of his thin shirt, past the hem, and to his growing erection. Tracing the outline of him, you reach to unbutton his pants.  Hand hovering over the zipper, you glance back at his face. He’s practically crying at your touch.

“P-please,” he quietly pleads.

It’s the furthest you’ve ever been with him and he hasn’t cum instantly and run away which is progress. Unzipping his pants and pulling the length of him out of his underwear, it’s prettier than you expected. He’s rock hard already, grinding himself into your hand. You wrap your fingers around his dick, stroking him slowly while you resume kissing him. Your mouth moves over his jaw and down his neck as he throws his head back, panting. His hands are fists at his side, trying hard not to touch anything.

“Fuck,” he whines, breathlessly. You suck his neck harder, bringing your free hand to massage his tip. 

Immediately, he throws his clenched hands around your shoulders. He groans, covering your hands in pearly white that drips between your fingers. You hum in amusement. How many times have you made him cum without ever getting to see it? He whimpers in overstimulation as you run your hands over him a few more times to get the last few drops out.

Crimson eyes follow you through the room as you move to wash your hands. 

“I- uhm, thanks,” he mumbles, struggling to pull his pants over his still hard dick. You smirk at him, while making yourself presentable again.

“Awe, fuck,” you mutter to your phone. In the four minutes you were in here with him, all hell seems to have broken loose outside. The few texts from your friends make you cringe.

your ex is out here

hes sad

you should give him another chance! he says hes really sorry

hes hotter than your new boyfriend anyways

“Ugghhh,” you grumble, taking a massive swig off the champagne bottle you nearly forgot on the bathroom counter. They know he cheated on you and they know how you felt about it, yet you're still having to deal with this.

“What, what’s going on?” Tomura asks, tailing you as you shove open the door and stumble into the hallway. You’re not really sure why, but you show him your phone.

“Oh,” he mouths, eyebrows raised. “Do you want to go?” he asks tentatively as you chug what’s left of the champagne.

As you enter the living room, one of your friends approaches, begging you to talk to him. Through double vision, you watch as your ex’s girlfriend rushes out the door, crying. She doesn’t deserve this, you decide, and neither do you. You sway slightly as you turn to Tomura who’s standing awkwardly by your side. 

And, the rest of the night is black. 

You don’t remember anything after that.

next - series masterlist - bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @kalulakunundrum

[lulublack90]

Prompt 10 - Unrequited

@wolfstarmicrofic February 10, word count 491

Sirius was running full pelt down the fourth-floor corridor. He’d had a group of girls on his tail all day. McGonagall had announced that the next Hogsmeade trip would coincide with Valentine’s Day, and every girl in the castle, it seemed, was determined to ask him to take her on a date that day.  

He could hear their excited voices and shoes tapping on the stone floor as they followed after him. 

“Oh, hey, Sirius.” A sweet fifth year from Hufflepuff appeared from around the next corner. “I was wondering…”

“Sorry, very important Marauders business,” He panted as he ran past her. “Talk to you later.” He barely heard her reply of “Oh, okay, bye, Sirius” as he rounded another corner and clattered straight into Remus. 

“Oh, Moony, thank Godric it’s you. You have to help me; the girls have gone mad!” 

“Hi, Asher,” Remus waved at the little Hufflepuff who’d walked back the way she’d come and stopped when she’d seen them tangled on the floor. 

“Remus. Get. Me. Out. Off. Here!” He growled, and Remus’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Should I tell her her love is unrequited, or do you want to do it?” He snickered. Sirius jabbed him in the ribs. 

“Don’t be a prat.” The sound of fast-approaching footsteps put Sirius’s teeth on edge. At least ten girls came around the corner. 

“Sirius!” They all said in unison. 

“Oh, this is just getting better.” Remus clapped his hands gleefully. 

“Shut it, Moony,” Sirius hissed. The girls began approaching them, blocking off half the corridor. He needed them to leave him alone. But what would make them stop asking him? Remus’s leg shifted as he tried to untangle himself from Sirius. Yes! That was it!

Sirius reached out and grabbed the front of Remus’s robes, dragging him close and kissed him enthusiastically. “Sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to knock you over. Are you alright?” He asked sweetly. He heard a few grumbles from the assembled girls, and then they began to slowly disperse. 

“Bye, Remus, bye, Sirius,” Emily waved at them. 

“Bye, Emily,” they said together. 

When the last girl disappeared around the corner, Sirius turned back to face Remus.

“Twat,” Remus breathed and pulled him in for another kiss. 

“Well, they had to know I had a boyfriend, or you might get jealous when that gang tripled in size before Valentine’s Day.” Sirius stood up and held his hand out for Remus.

“You know, that’s going to spread like wildfire,” Remus told him as he accepted Sirius’s help and pulled himself to his feet. 

“So what? I’m sick of hiding how much I love you. It’s time for us to have a little fun.” He grinned up at Remus, a weight lifting from his chest. No more hiding. 

“Yes, dear,” Remus chuckled, swooping down to steal a kiss before they walked hand in hand down to the quidditch pitch to watch James whip his team into shape. 

[vampyr-ss]

yes, daddy | t. fushiguro, s. kong

summary: your daddy’s tired of you distracting him during the game & uses your uncle shiu to teach you a lesson

pairing(s): step-dad!toji x reader x step-uncle!shiu

warnings: dark content (18+) + stepcest + double penetration + creampie + throatpie + degrading + no real prep + squirting

wc: 3.6k (unedited)

others: happy post-super bowl & happy valentine’s day!! this was originally supposed to be on sunday but a lot came up. not particularly proud of this, but i’m happy to finish it! anyways, go birds!! fly eagles fly!!! 🦅🦅🦅

toji’s done his absolute best to be patient with you. you’ve been acting differently lately, more rambunctious and seductive. he can’t trust himself to be alone with you because of how you look at him when you are alone. he knows what you want, and he’s willing to give it to you. more than, actually. before today, toji has given you plenty of warnings and plenty of chances. he’s told you that he can’t do this, that you need to be outright or you won’t get what you want.

he should’ve known you’d only get worse when he invited shiu over for the super bowl. your eyes had always lingered on shiu when he came to visit. he recognized those lip bites and the gentle flutter of your lashes when your uncle spoke to you. you used the same tactics on him. you always wore the smallest amount of clothes around the house. your ass would barely be covered by your shorts or your shirt would be tight enough for him to see the outline of your nipples through the thin fabric.

toji believes this is his fault. your mother’s gone to get more food and you immediately disappeared upstairs, giggling as you went. you’d returned in your panties and an eagles shirt, leaning over the couch to speak to him. “daddy have you seen my philly sweatpants?” your voice is soft and low, eyes shifting over his face as toji glances over the couch. his eye twitches when he spots your thong—the smallest thing he’s ever fucking seen. there’s no way your cunt is fully covered. “haven’t seen them, baby.” he murmurs, though his attention hasn’t slipped from the thin material covering your pussy.

“you don’t need ‘em sweetheart.” shiu chimes in, eyes glued to your ass. he smiles at you as he pats the space between them on the couch. “come watch the game, baby. your daddy’s been waiting for this.” he emphasizing the silly title you use for your stepfather, raising his eyebrows at you. your face flushes, clearly not expecting this response, but you round the couch to sit anyway. the leather’s cold against your bare ass and goosebumps begin to rise on your skin.

more often than not, toji has impeccable self control. he restrains himself every time you come prancing around and damn near nothing with shy smiles and wide eyes. but right now? the game’s going to half, the eagles are losing by a field goal and irritation is beginning to claw at his chest. he clenches his jaw as his eyes stay glued to the tv purely to prevent himself from acting on instinct. “what’s wrong, daddy?” you purr sweetly from beside him. your hand rests on his thigh, chest pressing against his arm.

shiu huffs a quiet laugh from beside the two of you. “the game’s not going well, sweetheart. but, didn’t i tell you,” he pauses to grab you by your jaw, squeezing your cheeks so harshly that it forces your lips to pucker. “didn’t i tell you days ago not to distract us during the game? and here you go in your tiny fucking panties showing your ass off to the world.” you pout your lips at him in return the best to your ability, whining softly when his grip tightened on your face.

"'s not the whole world. jus' you and shiu." you mumble with false shyness, fluttering your eyelashes at toji. he rolls his eyes, "if you wanna be the main show so fucking bad, show me what you want." toji's words are low and angry, almost like he's been waiting for this--and he has. you freeze briefly, eyes searching his face to see if he's serious. his green eyes peer back at you expectantly, waiting for you to make your first move.

your hands almost immediately slide to his pants, eagerness rushing through your body. you didn't care if you'd come across as desperate or like some sort of slut, you just wanted toji in you and you wanted it now. toji tuts at you, his hand coming over your own to keep you from pulling his sweatpants down. "no, i want your pussy baby. don't forget your uncle's over there." he juts his chin towards shiu whose eyes are glued to your nipples poking through the fabric of your eagles tee.

shiu watches you evenly. his eyes are low and his gaze predatory, but you don’t find yourself wanting to escape. you want him to fuck your throat raw. you want this. you turn from your step-dad to his best friend, gingerly placing one of your hands on his thigh before leaning in to kiss him. shiu tastes like smoke and not the good kind. you've dated a weedhead or two, you've liked how they tasted, but the taste of tobacco is new and not entirely unwelcomed. your nose scrunches a little making shiu laugh against your mouth. his tongue is quick to press against your lips to be allowed past your lips.

you allow him in with ease while your hands fumble with his belt. you can't see toji, but you know he's enjoying this. he's possessive, but that's why he wants your pussy. shiu can fuck your throat for all he cares, but your cunt is all his. "c'mon, you're gonna kiss him to death. open wide and do what you're here for, baby girl." toji's deep and irritation-riddled voice sounds from behind you. you slowly pull away from shiu. his eyes slowly follow your movements. "show me what you had in store for your daddy, hm? let me see how nasty you are, pretty girl."

you can't deny that shiu's words send a shockwave through you. your pussy clenches and your mouth waters despite yourself. "yes sir." shiu chuckles, pressing one more smoke-scented kiss to your lips. his big hand tangles into your hair the second your lips disconnect, his eyes are low on your face but desire burns bright in them. your fingers make quick work of his zipper, desperate hands pulling at his pants and then his boxers.

shiu’s long. you don’t know what you expected, but his dick is long and curved. your heart stutters at the sight of it, mouth watering and pussy clenching. toji huffs from behind you as his palm flattens your back, forcing you to arch your ass in front of him. “go on, suck his dick. i know you want to, pretty baby.” you glance back at him for confirmation, pretty eyes narrowed in both suspicion and submission. toji may be letting you suck his best friend off, but at the end of the day you’ll be his. that was why he was getting your cunt and shiu was only allowed your mouth. this is all in good fun.

your lips wrap around shiu’s cock eagerly. your tongue slides over his tip, digging into the slit briefly before you swipe your wet muscle down and along his shaft. shiu grunts but doesn’t make any absurd noises, his fingers tightening in your hair. the pain that comes with the tug of your hair makes you moan. it’s loud and nasty, and it makes shiu’s hips jerk up and into your mouth. your tongue flattens as you move further down on his cock. toji busies himself with pulling your thong to the side though he doesn’t do anything else.

with your lips still wrapped around shiu, you wiggle your ass back towards toji. the cold air’s hitting your wet cunt and you’re starting to wish he would just touch you. you’d beg him to if your mouth weren’t full. “fuck her throat, shiu.” you look up at him through your lashes, watching your uncle look to toji with an eyebrow raised. “you sure she can take that? she’s barely taking half o’ me.” he juts his chin at toji as he asks the question and his hand grips your hair briefly before he scratches at your scalp affectionately.

“that doesn’t matter, shiu. she’ll take what you give her. ain’t that right, honey?” toji smacks your ass for emphasis, forcing a whine from your filled throat. your eyes flutter shut to relish in both the pain stemming from your ass and the brief touch of toji’s hand on your body. they open again to meet shiu’s heated gaze. you nod the best you can with his dick in your mouth, placing a pretty hand at the base to pull him out with a soft pop!. “i can take it, uncle shiu.” you purr softly, pressing his cock against your face. “i’ll be good, i promise.” you bite down on your lip as you watch him through your lashes.

shiu’s never been the greatest man, but right now he wonders what he did to get blessed with this sight. his cock twitches against your face forcing pre-cum to smear across your cheek before dribbling down to your jaw. “then don’t cry to me when it’s too much, okay?” shiu’s lips split into a shit eating grin. the hand he’s kept in your hair grips at your strands impossibly tight. he guides your now-open mouth to his dick as he practically slams his dick inside of you waiting throat. you gurgle—loudly—but neither your uncle or daddy care. if anything, toji laughs while shiu groans.

shiu watches as your eyes roll back into your head the moment he starts to roll his hips up and into your throat. his grip on your hair tightens, and toji watches with a smirk. “so fuckin’ slutty.” he murmurs. toji slaps both of your ass cheeks one more time before he spreads them experimentally. your asshole clenches out of both instinct and anticipation whilst your cunt practically drools at him. toji licks his lips, trailing a finger through your sobbing pussy. “she’s so fucking wet, shiu. i’d let you see but this is all mine,” he pauses to stick his fingers in his mouth. “fuck. she’s so sweet.”

the couch shifts under you and shiu as toji moves so one knee is on the couch. he spreads your ass once more to get a good look at your holes. he spits into your ass, watching affectionately as it’s pushed back out at him. toji finds himself mesmerized at the way your pussy glistens under the lights of the living room. you’re so fucking desperate that it’s making his cock harder than it’s ever been in his life. toji slides his tongue through your folds in a slow teasing motion. he starts at your clit, licking upwards until he finds your asshole. his tongue lingers there, sliding into your tight hole that invites his tongue in greedily. toji feels more like your ass is eating him than the other way around.

your daddy’s tongue slides out of your ass with a wet pop! but it isn’t long before his mouth is attached to your cunt. his fingers keep you spread open for him whilst his tongue assaults your pretty pussy. you groan around shiu’s cock at the sudden pleasure, gripping his thighs to keep yourself grounded in some way. shiu ignores your sounds to chase the feeling of your tight throat around his cock. your mouth’s so fucking good and he truly cannot help himself. shiu watches your face carefully as he tries different rhythms opposed to ruthlessly fucking your throat. he rolls his hips a certain way, watching the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“fuck, toji, she’s a crier.” shiu’s voice leaves his lips airy from disbelief. there are tears sliding down your cheeks the further into your throat shiu fucks, and now that toji’s eating your cunt there’s snot beginning to dribble from your poor nose. “of course she is.” he hisses as he pulls his mouth away to shove a thick finger into your pussy. “she’s a desperate fucking slut, she’s gonna cry when she finally gets what she wants. it’s in her nature. isn’t it, slut?” toji curls his finger inside you for emphasis, and you howl around shiu’s cock. he groans, finally slipping his cock from your mouth. “how the fuck did you-shit! should’ve married this fucking mouth.”

your eyes widen at both shiu’s words and toji’s finger inside your pussy. your nails dig into shiu’s thighs to ground yourself from the pleasure thrumming through your body. you can barley see from the tears clouding your vision, you can only feel. feel toji sliding another fat finger into your pussy. feel shiu slapping his cock against your lips. feel yourself drench toji’s fingers. you’re practically blind in this interaction, but fuck is it worth it. your body feels so so good, this was better than what you were asking for with just toji. “she’s barely loosening up.” toji grunts. “just keep her throat busy, i’m not patient enough for this.”

your lips part to ask what he meant, but your question dies in your throat as toji’s tip slides into your cunt. you had an idea that toji was big but fuck does it hurt. your stomach burns at the sensation of his fat tip breaching your walls and your pussy clenches hungrily around him. “fuck, i can’t even get in her.” he hisses, spreading your cheeks to get a good look at your pussy swallowing his fat tip. “shiu, keep going. she needs to get wetter or i’m gonna rip this pretty pussy apart.” toji tuts, pressing a hand on the middle of your back to make you arch. “but, i think she wants that.”

as toji forces himself further in you, shiu stops toying with you and forces your jaw back open. he smears some of his cum across your lips. “you’re so pretty like this. i don’t know why he waited so fucking long.” you whimper softly at the compliments shiu shower you with, watery eyes darting from his face to his dick. shiu hums, sliding his dick back into your throat slowly. “should’ve been a good uncle and taken care of you and this throat, hm?” his words are strained, but you can still feel the meaning behind them. he’s been wanting to fuck you. this is just the beginning.

you can’t figure if it’s from impatience or feeling ignored, but toji shoves himself fully inside you in one harsh thrust. you lurch forward, choking on shiu’s dick as you scream the best as you can with your throat filled. shiu hisses from the vibration, pulling your head fully down on his cock to shush you. “shit, baby. you’ve been hiding this from me?” toji practically hisses his words at you. his fat cock’s splitting you open so fucking good.

your cunt squeezes hungrily around him to try and pull him in to keep him there. you can feel how wet you are, and even with that toji can barely pull back out of you. toji’s hand comes down on your ass. “not fuckin’ letting me go, huh? you this greedy? you got your uncles cock in your mouth and your daddy’s dick in this pussy but it’s not enough, is it?” his words are meant to hurt your feelings, but you clench. it’s nasty and absurd, but you like being used like this. you want them so badly it hurts. toji doesn’t give you a true chance to reply because he’s pounding your pussy as soon as he realizes you’ve heard him.

toji’s hips snap aggressively against yours, heavy balls slapping against your pussy from how hard he’s fucking into you. your fingers dig impossibly deeper into shiu’s thighs, eyes watering from how full your cunt and mouth are. shiu’s grip on your hair tightens—he ignores the choked sounds leaving your throat and the way his pre-cum’s sliding back down his cock along with your spit. you look so messy like this. there’s spit trailing down your face and neck, tears sliding down your cheeks and snot sliding from your nose. you look pathetic and it’s only turning him on more. your daddy’s grip on your hips is bruising. your hips hurt from the gee minutes he’s been fucking you, but somehow you don’t mind.

your cunt clenches at the thought of the bruises showing, that your mom will ask you what happened and you’ll have to come up with some stupid excuse. your step-daddy likes fucking you better, and you’ll be the only one to know. “she’s so sloppy, baby.” toji murmurs to no one in particular. he releases his grip on one side of your hips to rub harshly at your clit. you cry out, back bowing and eyes rolling further into your head. “i’m gonna cum.” shiu groans, shifting his grip from your hair to the back of your throat. he forces your head to stay in place, opting for jutting his hips into your throat like a dog in heat. your eyes flutter open just to see his face as he cums down your throat. you’d never describe shiu as pretty, but the way his face flushes, his lips part, and his eyes roll make you realize you want this to never end.

shiu’s cum is hot and salty as it fills your throat. you’re choking before you can think about it, sealing your lips around his dick the best you can. your tongue swirls around his tip to collect more cum the longer his orgasm lasts. you fight through the tears and the burning sensation filling your lungs and nose to take all of his cum, swallowing dutifully around him when his aimless thrusts into your pussy finally end. “fuck. toji you’re never keeping me from this fucking mouth.” he mumbled tiredly, pulling his softening cock from your mouth. “let me see, pretty girl.” you stick your tongue out for him, letting him see that you’ve swallowed it all.

“see, shiu? she’s a natural slut. born to be fucking bred.” toji chuckles, wrapping his big hand around t your throat to pull you against him. “c’mon, give me this cunt. need you to cum on daddy’s dick, can you do that, princess?” your throat hurts and so does your cunt. toji’s failed prep forced your pussy to stretch more than it had in years. you can only nod under his grip, eyes stuck on shiu as he watches through his lashes. toji pistons in and out of your cunt at a pace you hadn’t thought to be humanly possible. it feels like he’s in your stomach, his cock’s fat and long and it makes your stomach shift.

your poor pussy’s never handled anything so big before, toji almost feels bad. almost. scarred lips press against your neck hungrily. toji bites and sucks on your neck while his free hand wanders. he pinches your nipples to force a muted scream from you, back bowing from both pleasure and a need to escape. “can’t take it-oh! can’t take it anymore, ‘m gonna cum daddy.” you cry softly, voice nearly gone from the throat fucking you’d taken before. “don’t fucking tell me, just do it.” he pinches your clit for emphasis, laughing in your ear when your knees try to buckle. your cunt clenches and the knot in your stomach grows tighter with every thrust.

toji shifts his hips just slightly and it’s as if an explosion was set off in your body. your vision blurs as an unknown sense of euphoria flushes through your body. you don’t know if you cried out, if you screamed, or if you just fell limp against toji. your orgasms never been this strong in your life. you feel like you’ve been undone and put back together all in one moment. your eyes flutter open in time to see your pussy spray on the couch leaving various wet stains. shiu leans over to attach his lips to your clit, and you scream. “no! no more please!”

your stepfather and uncle ignore your cries, toji’s thrusts get harsher as he chases his orgasm. you can feel his fat cock shift in your stomach, you can feel him twitch as his orgasm nears with every thrust. another orgasm threatens your pussy with shiu’s lips still stuck on your pussy. your hands push at his head to no avail because he continues sucking. toji grunts, tightening his grip on your throat as his orgasm finally hits him. “fuck, i’m gonna get you pregnant baby.” he laughs breathily in your ear. “make sure this pussy can’t go anywhere, can’t take anyone else.” his eyes shift to shiu, who’s pulled away to kiss you again after swallowing down your second orgasm.

“i’m-‘m so full, daddy.” you whimper against your uncle’s lips though your words are aimed towards toji. shiu laughs, slapping your cheek affectionately. “if we had more time you’d be fuller than that, princess. be glad he’s the only one that came in that pussy today.” toji pulls out of you, hissing as he goes. you find yourself missing the warmth and fullness of his cock inside you. the same longing you felt for shiu’s cock in your throat. “maybe one day we’ll both get you pregnant. see who’s baby it is.” he presses one more kiss to your lips, a kiss of finality. he actually meant what he was saying. “can’t,” you trail off, “can’t do that! what if-” toji’s aggravated voice cuts you off. he shoves his fingers into your pussy to keep his cum from leaking out. “doesn’t matter if someone finds out, this is my pussy now sweetheart. your uncle shiu’s too, if i feel nice. ain’t that right?” you glance between the both of them, pursing your lips before nodding in defeat. “yes, daddy.”

[akimoroll]

bluff

nagumo yoichi x afab!reader — 3k wc — ao3

c/w: smut. porn with some plot. semi-public sex. rivals w/ benefits. jcc nagumo (if you’re uncomfy with that pls step away from the vehicle) mdni.

a/n: was having second thoughts about posting this because im super insecure with writing porn but here we are. happy hearts day to the 4 ppl who like my shit. and to @angstigone, it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you 🌷

Sakamoto Taro and Akao Rion. These two were the ones you wanted to be as strong as. But Nagumo came into the picture and out of the three, he seemed the most approachable and you’re not the nicest with asking favors either.

“Me? Train…you?” asked Nagumo, head tilted to the side.

“Yes. I need it to happen as soon as possible.” You answered way too quickly and way too plainly.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

That was the question that started it all. A bet made between just the two of you. Whoever scores higher in class activities for the week would get the upper hand and have their way with the loser. Nagumo lets you win without fail while he decides on what he wants out of it. He plays along because it’s fun while he gives you the satisfaction that you’re winning against him.

You took advantage of this because it meant you could improve yet there are times you wished he’d take you seriously. He seemed too carefree all the time and it bothered you. It bothered you so much that your competitiveness grew into you wanting to rival him instead of his other two friends.

These games went on and on, far longer than you both remember. You were getting better at it. However, it was becoming repetitive.

Until it wasn’t.

Lately, when he pins you down—on the floor, against the wall, or wherever, and his taunts hidden beneath layers of:

“Ah, that was close! Getting stronger now, aren't you?”

“You’re making it harder for me these days.”

“Relaaax… You left yourself wide open with that temper of yours.”

—begin rolling out of his mouth, it sends tingles all over your body, making it harder to ignore the way he affects you. And when you do the same and put your whole body weight on him, you’d notice the slight flush on his cheeks, ignoring and thinking they’re just from exertion.

Until he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. So you asked, “What’s that fucking face all about?”

And he cluelessly countered, “Huh? What face?”

“That face you keep doing! You’re blushing like some…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words before you hesitantly continued, “…virgin.”

And you swore you saw something shift with his smile yet it was gone before you could catch it. He shrugged, “Well, yeah, it’s because I am.”

“Pfft, yeah right. No shit.” you said after an eye roll. But when he wasn’t biting back, you had to do a double take, asking, “Wait, really?”

And sometimes being driven and nosy is not the best combo. Because just like always, Nagumo went along when you had suggested another idea. You were curious to see how he reacts to you. How pathetic he can become under your touch. Wipe the smugness off his face. Watch him break character as he succumbs at the mercy of using just your hands, just your mouth, or simply the sweet nothings you’d whisper into his ear.

It was initially intended as a silly joke when you asked if he wanted to try something yet here you are, in too deep, flown too close. You had some sort of control for once and the thrill had you addicted.

Him lying about his chastity crossed your mind but who cares at this point. After all, he’s such a pretty face. Prettier when he smiles. Prettiest when he cries.

Neither of you showed any hint of disapproval towards it so it became one of your routine interactions. Every single time you leave him behind in that dark and cramped utility room, you act as if nothing happened. He does the same, if anything, he does it better. Another unspoken contest added on top of an existing one.

It’s better that way, you think.

All of this is nothing more than just a bet anyway.

With Valentine’s day around the corner, Nagumo thinks about the piles and piles of chocolate boxes he’s once again going to receive. Enough for him to walk around the JCC like he’s some kind of celebrity. He’s aware that you never cared for such things. Still… He wanted to know. What’s the harm in asking?

“W-What are you up to on Valentines?” Nagumo stammers around his question, a dazed smile lingers on his lips as you take him throat deep.

Wiping your mouth with your hand and stroking his dick with the other, you ponder before speaking, “And you’re asking me because…?”

“I heard—” he gasps with a shaky exhale as you begin pressing circles over his tip with your thumb. Struggling to maintain control in the face of your touch, he continues, “you’re finally making chocolates for me this year.”

Looking up at him, you chuckle softly, “Must be your other bitch.”

“Shh, quiet down, someone might hear you’re jealous.” He attempts a coy grin before gasping once more, eyes rolling at the back of his head as you drag the length of his dick on your tongue before slowly pushing into your mouth once again.

Just for you to stop and coo at him, pouting, “Aw~ He thinks he’s so funny.”

“I am funny. You look like you’re having lots of fun right now.”

“So much fun that I’m your secret… And you can’t tell a fucking soul. Keep it up.”

“You’re cruel.”

“I think it’s quite romantic.”

He snorted, “You’re sick and you’re mean. I have feelings you know…”

“For me?” You giggle before continuing, “Or you want me to give you something to cry about?”

Nagumo suppresses a chuckle as he closes his mouth like an imaginary zipper, tilting his head back as he tries to stop himself from blowing his load right then and there (yet fails miserably) with the image of your face at the forefront of his mind.

Nagumo’s done playing with his food.

Days before Valentines, you found yourself in a pinch. He didn’t let you win the bet this time. He scored higher than you in everything with ease and precision. An overkill to say the least. You’re well aware how he easily lets you win each time. It has always been one-sided. But the sudden change threw you off and had you feeling a mix of dread and anticipation for what’s about to come.

You’re pissed, flustered, with trembling fingers hidden inside clenched fists. Thinking, he’s going to have his way with you for the first time since this stupid bet started.

He smirks as he towers behind you while your mind races on all the possibilities on how he’s gonna strip you, bend you over, throw you around like a rag doll, have fistfuls of your hair as he fucks the living shit out of you. Maybe get his payback for all the teasing and edging you subjected him to, how you had him wrapped around your fingers behind closed doors.

Or so you thought.

In the confined space that you and him usually share secret meetings with, Nagumo has his chest pressed against your back as he fucks you softly. He covers you with his warmth. The room grows humid with him repeatedly sighing against your skin, his face hidden in the crook of your neck. There’s fondness in his touch with the way he has his hands all over you, like they had always belonged there.

There’s no rushing. He treats you with gentleness, like you’re the most precious little thing he’s ever laid his hands on. His voice slurs at the mentions of your name, breath feverishly hot against your neck. With his dick all wet and snug inside you, he makes you forget everything. The bet. The thoughts you had when you first walked in. Or whatever the fuck this one-sided rivalry was all about.

He’s got you thinking of him and him only.

As he parts your trembling legs wider, Nagumo reaches for a hand in between, whispering how wet you are, how good you make him feel. His long slender fingers pressing circles over your clit, making you whimper with his dick thrusting in and out of you. His movements ever so slow as you shudder under him.

He notices your hand slowly anchoring onto something. And one thing about Nagumo is he doesn’t like it when you cling onto something that isn’t him. He’d rather you claw at him, have fistfuls of his locks in your grasp, dig your fingers into his skin and have it painted blue and black, maybe draw a bit of blood like you always do.

So he lays you gently on a flat surface, that way he can have all your attention. He teases your folds before thrusting all the way in and then all the way out, again and again, coating his entire length with your wetness. He cradles the back of your head with his hands like a pillow to make it less uncomfortable for you, but more so to keep your eyes straying away from him. Your bodies mold into each other, keeping himself close to you as much as he possibly can, as if you’d escape if he clings a little less.

Finding yourselves face to face—just how he likes it—he inhales every soft sigh that escapes your lips, his voice breaking like stained glass every time he bottoms out with your pussy creaming around the base of his dick. He’s truly blushing now that he’s so completely lost in you, mesmerized by the fluttering of your lashes and the hazy look in your eyes as he thrusts deep inside you.

Nagumo could cum just by looking at you.

As a distraction, he thinks of something else to make the moment last longer, make it worthwhile. But then he remembers he’s never kissed you before. He thought about it maybe once or twice, doesn’t really matter since you never asked. You never initiated. Hell, you don’t even let him touch you. Not like this. Not when you see it as him one upping you. It had been enough for him that you’d let him watch you please yourself sometimes, telling him you’re being nice.

This is much more intimate than the acts you’ve shared thus far. And right now, you’re simply holding your end of the deal. Nothing more.

Yet you just had to shift it all one-eighty and go diving into his mind, whispering, “Yoichi, how come you never kiss me?”

He murmurs, “Thought you’d never ask.” and wastes no time, pressing his moist lips onto yours, deepening it as he feels you do the same. With all lips and tongue, your moans melt into his mouth. It’s all he could think about, your softness, the way you move your head to kiss him more, your sweaty palms cradling his face. He’s been denying himself of it this entire time and now it’s all he wants to do.

With his mind completely consumed by you and your pussy full of him, Nagumo finds himself hurtling so incredibly close to the edge. He picks up his pace, the pleasure slowly becoming unbearable for him with your moans turning into sweet sobs. Your pussy feels mind-numbingly good to him, clamping, squeezing around his dick like you’re milking him.

He leaves you wanting more as he pulls out. With brows knitted and mouth slightly parted, he pants softly as he strokes his dick so fucking wet from your dripping cunt. His chest heaves deeply, skin glistening with his sweat mixed with yours. You watch him cum all over your belly as he makes a face that you grew familiar with, yet now it feels all too different, and a part of you wishes he should’ve cum inside you.

Nagumo wonders why he waited so long to do this. It feels better than anything he’s done. So much better now that he’s doing it with you. The urge to kiss you once more overcomes him. And so he lets it. He makes his way down your neck, tracing your collarbone, circling in on your tits, taking his sweet time, staying there for a good while. He laps your nipples with his tongue, his thumbs drawing circles as he squeezes both in his palms.

He then finds his way to your arms. A kiss for every bruise and scar you had developed from training with him, he thinks they’re beautiful, clouding over the line between an apology and confession. He goes lower, his tongue sloppily swirls around your fingers and palms calloused from being so hard on yourself. Nagumo smirks as he meets your gaze, sealing it with wet kisses on the back of your hands like the gentleman he believes he is.

He goes lower and lower onto your belly, licking, tasting his own self off your skin. He leaves moist prints from your hips onto your thighs, kissing the back of your legs, sucking, biting gently down to your heels and toes. He kisses all over your body, leaving evidence of himself—digging in on every fucking inch of you. What a sight…he thinks, as you writhed under him.

Lifting your hips with your thighs over his shoulders, Nagumo swallows thick before dragging his tongue over your pussy. You’re dripping… making a mess, creaming all over his mouth. He draws faint circles as he toys with your clit, and when you buck your hips for more as your body shivers, he can’t help but meet your gaze and grin a little.

He squeezes the flesh of your thighs when you reach for his hair partially hiding his eyes, gripping them tight, pushing his face more desperately into your soaked cunt. Tingles run down his spine as you cry out his name in pleasure. You have him worked up once more, taking all his strength to fight the urge to fuck you again.

Nagumo holds you by the curve of your waist, keeping you in place as you arch your back once again. He’s drinking you, your juices trickling from the side of his mouth. You taste sweeter now when you say you’re close as you keep grinding your hips.

Having you fall apart for him is all he wants to see, all he wants to hear, all he wants to feel.

And he’s going to take you there.

So good, he murmurs an octave lower, encouraging you to fuck yourself into his mouth. A couple more rolls of your hips, a few more flicks of his tongue, you finally snap. And it feels so so good for Nagumo to make you cum, putting his mouth to good use and having you worked up in an entirely different way. You’re so pretty like this—breathlessly gasping curses alongside his name with your pussy melting onto his tongue.

He could do this for hours. Eat you out just to kill time. But he needs to be patient again, for now.

Replacing his mouth with a hand, he thumbs your clit while he continues to fuck knuckles deep inside you, curving and thrusting in slow paces. A wordless whine is all you could do as a protest, but he doesn’t stop. He leans closer to you, his kisses demanding and sloppy, showing how good you taste. Hazy brown eyes staring you down, he murmurs against your lips, “You alright? Enjoying yourself?”

A breathy “Shut up.” is all you could manage. Not sure if you’re simply fucked out, dazed, awkward, angry… or all of the above. His touch leaves you and you want it back more than you care to admit. He comes back and wipes you down, and then helps you with your clothes. He doesn’t say a word other than making sure if you’re okay. Everything feels normal and abnormal at the same time, making you momentarily forget how icky and unromantic the place was.

Nagumo may have done things to you that only lovers do.

And like a flip on a switch, he’s back to his usual self. His carefree innocent smile appears like nothing happened. So you try to play it cool as well, chuckling, “You’re still… D’you wanna go for round two?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He slips into his shirt and pants, dusting it with his palms before meeting your gaze, smiling, “It’s almost lights out. Come on.”

“Oh, right.” You nod, he opens the door and you both go your separate ways like usual.

First time you lost the bet.

First time Nagumo shows you what a true win feels like.

February 14 is here and after strolling around the bustling academy, pushing a cart full of sweets he received from his admirers in different departments, Nagumo and Sakamoto settle in the cafeteria, still drawing a steady stream of girls eager to give what they had prepared for them.

Across the room, you’re sauntering towards where Nagumo is, empty handed. And as you reach his pile of gifts, you grab one and plop down on his lap sideways before looking at him with a coy grin.

Nagumo watched the whole thing, his awe hidden behind a clueless smile as you slam the box less forcefully than you wanted to on the table. After prying it open, you select a piece, holding it between your fingers an inch closer to his lips. You pause to speak, “You know, I heard we’re a thing now.”

Nagumo blinks. “Ohhh? Says who?” He rests his cheek on his hand while he holds your waist with the other, his deep brown eyes now filled with amusement gazing up at you.

You feed him a piece, and then another, not giving him a chance to chew. And another one, until he has a mouthful of chocolate made by some girl who doesn’t matter right now. After looking around, you let your bloodlust seep out a little as you wipe the corners of his lips, just to spread it more messily. Leaning closer, softly, you finally answer, “Says me.”

Good fold, he thinks.

You see, the thing about Nagumo is he wants. He may not know exactly what it is all the time, but what he wants is what he gets. And right now, you’re exactly where it’s at.

[lilacmingi]

ANTLERS AND ALL

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. And please don’t spam-like!

Pairing: Deer hybrid!Yeosang x fem reader

Word count: 12,820

Note: This has been months in the making. I’ve been wanting to write deer hybrid Yeo for years 🥹

Birds were chirping, creating a little melody in the atmosphere, the breeze was blowing, softly rustling the leaves on the trees, the golden sun casting rays of light through the foliage. It was a beautiful day and one you took advantage of by setting off into the outdoors.

The dried leaves beneath your thick-soled boots crunched under your weight as you made your way down the narrow nature-made trail in the woods. You'd been walking it for a couple years and the trail had only gotten more noticeable thanks to how often it was followed. One might assume you were an outdoorsy type, but you weren't. Most of your days were spent indoors or at work, going about your daily life, however, you did make it a habit to get out and traipse the trail, as it was always a good mood-booster. Besides, a little fresh air never hurt anybody.

Every so often you'd stop to examine and admire a unique mushroom for wild flower with an eye-catching hue, sometimes snapping a photo before moving on.

A small meadow laid ahead, the sight taking your breath away even from the distance you were at. Usually you stayed on the trail, but this sight was one to behold and you wanted nothing more than to go check it out. So, you strayed from the path and made your way through clusters of dried leaves and tangled roots until you arrived at the clearing. The sight was breathtaking and looked like a fantastical place that a fairy might roam. Tall wisps of grass that reached your shins covered the entirety of the clearing with clusters of white wildflowers dotted about. The direction at which the sun shone down on the meadow through the clouds cast almost angelic beams down on the earth. It was when your eyes skimmed along the land that you spotted something out of the ordinary, a head of reddish brown hair amidst the blades of grass and ivory blossoms. Your gaze traveled up, following something sticking out from the top of his head, your eyes widening when you realized it was a set of antlers. A hybrid.

You took a tentative step forward, the light crunch of a leaf under your shoe might as well have been a twig with how quickly the man's head jerked in your direction. Your body stiffened and you opened your mouth to speak, but before a single word could be uttered, the hybrid took off.

Startled by his sudden and swift exit, you were frozen for a few seconds before naively chasing after him, while calling out, "Hey, wait!"

The knee-high grass whipped past your legs as you took off through the field after the hybrid boy. He was already way ahead of you, but you shouted again in hopes that he'd hear you and stop.

"I won't hurt you!"

He kept running, moving through the trees with grace and agility, leaping over branches and tree roots. It was futile to even attempt to catch up, he was nearly out of sight, so you slowed to a jog and stopped, hunching over to rest your hands on your knees. He was gone.

All you could do was stare at the spot you'd last seen him, left in a bit of a daze after your abrupt encounter. A sigh of defeat expelled from your lips and you took a few steps back before reluctantly turning around, heading back across the meadow, returning to the trail you were walking.

It didn't sit right with you that he just got away. You couldn't pinpoint why you were so concerned for the hybrid boy, but knowing he was running the woods alone made your stomach twist a little in discomfort. Where was he going? Did he have somewhere to stay? Would he be okay? And most importantly, would you see him again?

Worrying about a complete and total stranger was a bit ridiculous, but you couldn't help it. Hybrids didn't always get treated well and were still being accepted as members of society, so naturally you were concerned.

The antlered boy is what kept you coming back to the forest more often than usual. There was a part of you that hoped you'd see him again, then maybe the worry that had made itself at home in the pit of your stomach would go away after finding out he was okay.

You returned to the woods almost every day, stopping by the meadow you'd seen him in. Every walk you took you ended up returning home with no results.

It had been a few days since you stepped foot on the trail in the woods not far behind your home due to weather. Despite that, you hadn't given up hope, stepping back out into the thicket as soon as you possibly could, lacing up your hiking boots and taking off.

You followed the worn dirt path, still slightly damp from last night's rain, the soles of your shoes leaving faint prints in the earth. The undergrowth and wild plants had a fresh green look to them, the natural aroma of petrichor in the air. Your steps slowed to a stop, your eyes drifting over to the meadow in the distance, lingering for a moment too long as you hoped to spot the deer hybrid again. The chances he'd be in the meadow again after you'd previously spotted him were highly unlikely, but you looked anyway, searching for a pair of antlers amongst the blades of grass.

Just like all the other times you went out searching for the hybrid, you found nothing and headed further into the woods until you arrived at the place where you would normally circle back and head home. For some reason, you decided to keep going, abandoning the familiar trail and searching further this time. It was harder to navigate due to the large clusters of wild plants covering the ground and no trail to follow. You mentally marked your spot by choosing a tree with a unique moss pattern growing on it as your returning point. You ducked under small trees and stepped over clusters of briars, wincing when they got caught on the fabric of your pants.

You didn't want to stray too far from the path and lose your way back, so you tried to only walk straight, moving a little deeper into the woods. Everywhere you looked, you only saw trees and wilderness. Just when you were considering turning back and giving up for the day, you spotted something, your eyes widening at the sight that greeted you. The deer hybrid that you'd been searching for was on the ground a few feet away, letting out small noises of distress, a net tangled around his antlers.

You couldn't believe it, it was him. You didn't think you'd see him again.

Without thinking, you started moving forward, making sure not to approach too fast so as not to startle him like last time. The light crunch of small twigs under your feet announced your presence as you approached, alerting the boy.

The man's head jerked up towards you, his eyes wide with fear as he scrambled to his feet only to trip due to the large net, which he stepped on.

"It's okay. It's okay." You held your hands up in a placating manner where he could see you weren't holding anything that might cause him harm, making sure to keep your tone gentle as you spoke.

He stilled, his frightened gaze still locked on you, unsure of your intentions.

"I'm gonna help you." You said, coming to crouch beside him.

When he didn't try to bolt off, you started working to maneuver the netting around the blunt points of his antlers. His wide eyes followed your every move while you worked diligently to untangle the rope around his deer-like appendage. He was terrified and it made your chest ache.

It took a while, but the moment he was freed, he scrambled away from you, putting some distance between you both.

"It'a okay." You assured him. "I'm Y/n. What's your name?"

He blinked, his chest heaving up and down with short, rapid breaths. He was too scared to speak and you knew you wouldn't be getting a name from him.

"Do you have a home?"

He hesitated before shaking his head a little, if you weren't paying attention you would've missed it. His clothes were dirty and slightly tattered, his hair mussed. It was obvious he'd been roaming the woods for a while.

There was no way you could leave him out in the woods after knowing he didn't have a home, it would just tear you to pieces.

"Do you want to come with me?" You asked tentatively, staying put where you were so as not to make the hybrid run off.

His round eyes stared unblinking at you.

"I have food and a bed. You'll be safe."

Though he was scared out of his wits, you could tell he was trying to discern wether or not you were a threat and you could only hope that saving him helped him realize you meant him no harm.

The air was silent, save for the occasional rustle of the leaves in the breeze as you waited for what felt like minutes for a response. Finally, the man nodded, albeit slowly while getting to his feet, never taking his eyes off you.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you gave him a gentle smile. "Come on, then."

You started heading back the way you came, moving forward a few paces before you realized you didn't hear a second pair of feet behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the deer hybrid standing in the same spot, looking unsure even though he agreed to come with you.

"It's okay." You told him. "This way."

After that, you could hear his quiet footfalls behind you. He trailed along silently, keeping a sizable gap between the both of you, clearly still wary, and that was perfectly fine. If he was most comfortable keeping his distance, you'd let him.

You made it back to the mossy tree you'd passed earlier, returning to the familiar trail. Part of you was relieved you didn't lose your way, thankful you had a path to follow now. You threw a glance behind you every once in a while at the hybrid to make sure he was still following along.

"I didn't mean to startle you that day when you were in the meadow." You spoke up, feeling the need to fill the heavy silence in the air.

As expected, you received no response, which prompted you to continue talking.

"I walk this trail often. I like to enjoy nature."

You assumed talking about yourself would help build some trust between the both of you and put the hybrid at ease, but every time you glanced back at him, he looked anxious as ever. That's when you gave up on talking for the remainder of the walk.

"Here we are." You announced when you emerged from the tree line, gesturing to your home.

You approached the front door and stepped inside, waiting for your new houseguest to follow, which he did. The door was gently pushed closed as the boy made his way around the living room, taking in everything.

"You can sit down." You gestured to the couch, which he examined for a moment before taking a seat.

He looked so uncomfortable and on edge, his posture stiff and rigid. You hated that he felt like he needed to be alert at all times and it made you wonder what he'd gone through to make him that way. The knot in your stomach worsened at the thought of how he might've been treated by humans, especially being a deer hybrid.

You circled around to the front of the sofa, making sure not to get too close to him, keeping a safe distance in order to keep him as comfortable as possible. His large brown eyes darted around the unfamiliar environment before landing on a bowl of chocolate bars you had on the coffee table that sat between the both of you.

"You want one?" You asked him, picking one of the fun size candy bars from the bowl. "It's chocolate."

He flinched back when you reached over and held the sweet out, but brought his hand up to take it from you. He fiddled with the wrapper for a moment, finally getting it open and taking a small bite. There was a spark of happiness in your chest when you saw a flicker of pleasant surprise on his face.

"I'm sure you're hungry." You mentioned, unsure of how long he'd gone without food. "Stay here and I'll make you something."

You scurried off to the kitchen, scouring the pantry for something quick to make for your guest. Your searching gaze landed on a can of soup. That would have to do. It's the quickest thing you could make.

You poured the contents of the can into a bowl and stuck in in the microwave for a couple minutes, watching the numbers slowly count down. Every so often, your eyes drifted to peer into the living room, checking on the nameless hybrid seated on the sofa.

The microwave beeped, bringing you back to the task at hand. You removed the steaming bowl of soup and placed it on a hot pad to prevent any burns, sliding a spoon into the savory broth.

As soon as you reentered the room, the man's head jerked in your direction.

"It's just me." You announced, watching his eyes track your movements. "I brought you soup, I hope that's okay."

The bowl was cautiously passed to the man.

"Careful, it's hot." You warned, shuffling back to sit in a chair, observing him.

He stared at the soup, lifting it to his nose to give it a sniff, taking in its aroma before he took the spoon, scooping up a bite and bringing it up to his lips.

He blew on it, giving the broth a little taste, going back for a few more spoonfuls, his rigid shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

"You think you could tell me your name now?" You asked in a subdued tone.

He swallowed a mouthful of broth, licking his lips before answering in a barely audible voice, "Yeosang."

You breathed out a little sigh, smiling faintly.

"Yeosang." You echoed. "It's nice to meet you."

After he finished his soup, he lowered the empty bowl down to the coffee table and discreetly slid it towards you to show that he was finished.

"Would you like more?" You asked, taking the bowl.

He shook his head, the movement so slight you almost missed it. There was a part of you that felt like he should have more food, but it was very likely he didn't have much of an appetite due to being so nervous, so you accepted his answer and went to the kitchen to wash his dirty dishes.

When you returned to the living room, Yeosang was messing with a hole in the leg of his dark jeans.

"Would you like to bathe? I have a shower and hot water." You offered.

He sat there in silence, not giving you any response except for that same wary expression that was almost constant.

"You'll have the bathroom to yourself." You added. "I won't bother you."

He shifted in his seat before giving a tiny nod.

You led Yeosang to the bathroom down the hall, showing him how to turn on the shower in case he didn't know how, letting him know he could use your shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. You laid out a towel and tossed a washcloth into the shower, making sure everything was prepped and ready for him.

"I'll let you have your privacy now, but if you need anything just let me know." You told him. "I'll go find you some fresh clothes while you shower."

With that, you exited the bathroom, closing the door behind you and leaving Yeosang to himself.

The deer hybrid turned around, getting a look at the bathroom. It had been so long since he last bathed, never in a shower though. His eyes moved to the mirror to meet his reflection, the sight that greeted him making him pause. He was filthy. His hair was unkempt, his entire face lightly smudged with dirt, and his clothes were stained and ripped in different places. How long had he looked that way?

Tearing his eyes away, he started removing his clothes, tossing the soiled garments into a pile on the floor before turning on the shower and checking the water temperature to make sure he turned the correct knob. Once satisfied, he stepped inside, sighing as soon as the steaming water hit his body, his muscles relaxing immediately under the warm stream. He stood still for a few minutes just to relish in the new and unfamiliar feeling of the water hitting his back. Yeosang had never had a shower before, but being able to control the temperature of the water was unimaginable.

He leaned his head back to get his hair wet, careful not to let his antlers bump anything. He washed his hair, gently massaging his ears with the bubbles, the scent of the shampoo and conditioner being rather pleasant. He'd never used that stuff either. He picked up the washcloth and put some body wash on it, scrubbing his body and ridding himself of the outdoor residue that clung to his skin.

The steam that had built up inside the shower escaped in billows when Yeosang pulled back the curtain and stepped out. His little tail flicked behind him a couple times, flinging small droplets of water. A pleasant sigh of relief expelled from his nostrils. He'd forgotten what it was like to be clean. He retrieved the towel from where it laid on the toilet lid and used it to dry himself off, feeling like a new person.

Yeosang opened the bathroom door and stuck his head out into the hall, letting out a small noise when his antlers bumped the doorframe by accident. He didn't see you in the hallway, his eyes dropping down to the pile of neatly-folded clothes on the floor. He leaned down and picked them up, bringing them into the bathroom to change into.

He didn't know why you were being so kind to him. Maybe it was a different method to make him feel comfortable so you could take his antlers. His hand instinctively reached up to brush along the relatively small growths coming from the top of his head. Sure, they'd regrow if they were ever removed, but the thought of having them sawed off to be displayed on a plaque made Yeosang's skin crawl.

Deer hybrids didn't have massive sets of antlers due to it being an inconvenience in day-to-day life, which should be enough to avoid being a target, but to some, deer hybrid antlers were special due to them coming from a half human half animal. It wasn't legal to do so, but a handful of sick people were willing to break that law and unfortunately, Yeosang had encountered a couple of them.

Yeosang's head jerked towards the bathroom door when he heard a faint sound coming his way. He watched as a shadow moved in front of the door, coming to a stop just outside. It was you. He could tell by your scent.

He still wasn't sure wether to trust you or not. You were being awfully kind to him—suspiciously kind. Though no one had treated him the way you had, he wondered what your angle was, if you had a motive, and what your true intentions were.

Even though the soup and shower were nice, he was still wary and on edge, ready to bolt the moment things started going south.

You were stood outside the bathroom, the shower no longer running. You had your ear pressed to the door to see if you could hear anything, hoping your houseguest was alright. Just as you were about to announce your presence and check on him, the door opened and made you flinch, stumbling back a little.

"Oh!" You blinked, taking in Yeosang's appearance.

His reddish brown hair was damp and the fresh scent of body wash hit your nostrils. Past the wet tendrils of hair, by Yeosang’s right eye, was a couple of pink splotches on his otherwise blemish-free skin. The marks were pretty and unique, adding to his already stunning appearance. The large t-shirt you'd found for him looked cozy and thankfully the sweatpants didn't seem to be too short. You'd given him the biggest size you owned.

"Look at you." You smiled. "You look nice."

Yeosang just stood there, his eyes glued to the floor. He was still uncomfortable and you couldn't blame him for it. Offering him soup and letting him have a shower wouldn't be enough to earn his trust.

That night, you set up the couch nicely for Yeosang, giving him one of your softest pillows and a large fuzzy throw blanket. You lingered for a moment to make sure he settled in before slowly inching away.

"Goodnight, Yeosang. As always, if you need anything, just let me know." You extended the offer once more before reluctantly turning to head down the hallway.

The room was cloaked in a dim light from the moon outside the window. It had been about fifteen minutes since you left the living room and you couldn't stop thinking about the deer hybrid, worried that he might not be able to sleep. You tried to justify your actions of bringing him into an unfamiliar environment, telling yourself over and over again that he was in danger out in the woods all alone, and he willingly came home with you. So even though he didn't speak and was skittish, him following you back showed some semblance of trust, which was a relief.

The following morning, you got up and slowly walked into the living room, your bare feet shuffling against the floor. A faint smile of relief settled onto your features when you saw Yeosang sleeping peacefully on the couch. It was a welcomed sight and one that brought you some solace. You silently snuck into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, hoping your guest woke up with an appetite. You did your best to keep the noise to a minimum, mixing up pancake batter and getting the pan hot.

It wasn't until the four four similarly-sized cakes you'd spooned out started cooking that you heard the faint sound of footsteps. Glancing over, you saw a head of reddish brown hair and one eye peeking around the corner into the kitchen. When you spotted Yeosang, he ducked back around the corner.

"It's okay." You chuckled faintly. "Are you hungry?"

His antlers poked out, followed by the upper half of his head, one of his deer ears twitching slightly. At the question, he shuffled out and started heading over to the stove, coming to a stop a safe distance away while trying to get a look at what you were cooking.

"Have you ever had pancakes?"

His eyes met yours before moving back down to the pan and he nodded.

"Would you like anything in them?"

The expression on his face could only be described as surprised confusion.

"I can add stuff to the batter. Blueberries, bananas, chocolate chips."

At the mention of sweet chocolate, his eyes widened.

"You want chocolate chips?"

He nodded, almost as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to customize his breakfast despite you offering it. You promptly sprinkled some chocolate chips into the bowl of batter, returning to the partially cooked plain pancakes in the pan and flipping them over.

Yeosang stood by and watched your every move, looking on in interest as you spooned out batter and created somewhat circular pancakes.

You finished up the rest of the batter and plated the pancakes, giving three chocolate chip ones to Yeosang and then serving yourself, heading into the dining room.

"What would you like to drink? Apple juice, orange juice, milk, water?"

You had to watch Yeosang and wait for him to nod when you listed a particular beverage, getting the signal when you said milk.

"Good choice." You smiled.

When you came back with a glass of milk for him and your own drink of choice, you brought along a bottle of syrup for the pancakes. Yeosang was quick to reach out and discreetly take the bottle from where you set it, popping the cap and drizzling it over his pancakes.

As you ate, your gaze flickered up to look across the table at Yeosang who'd forked a small bite of his chocolate chip pancakes. You watched in silent anticipation as he raised the fluffy hotcake to his lips and took a bite, chewing it for a moment. His eyes brightened and a barely audible gasp could be heard from where you were seated, observing as he took another bite. Seeing him enjoy the things he ate brought you a sense of comfort and warmth, especially after knowing he'd been roaming the woods alone with little to no food.

You suppressed a giggle when you noticed Yeosang's lips smeared and speckled with melted chocolate from the pancakes.

His head jerked up at the sound, his wide brown eyes staring at you. You discreetly gestured to your own lips and he was quick to lick away the chocolate and grab a nearby napkin, wiping over his mouth for good measure.

"I'm glad you like it." You commented.

After a couple days, you decided Yeosang needed clothes, ones that weren't borrowed. Thankfully, after he showered that first time, you went to get his torn, stained garments and peeked at the tags to get his size before tossing them into the trash.

Yeosang's always vigilant and wide eyes followed you across the living room as you tossed your bag over your shoulder.

"I need to go buy you some new clothes." You told him, absentmindedly fiddling with your keys. "Are you going to be okay staying home alone for an hour?"

He stared at you, a response you often got any time you asked him something. He still wasn't talking.

"I'll lock the door when I leave." You mentioned.

Finally, Yeosang gave a little half nod.

"You can watch TV." You gestured.

His gaze followed the direction you pointed to, staring at the black screen. You could see that he didn't seem to know how to work the TV even though you'd watched it with him the day before, if you could even call it watching, he stayed pressed against the opposite side of the couch the whole time you were in the room.

"Here." You moved to turn on the TV, the last channel you were watching flashing up on the screen. You pressed a button and pulled up the massive list of channels. "You can watch whatever you want. Just pick one and press this big OK button." You demonstrated, placing the remote on the coffee table in front of him. "And you can have more chocolate bars if you want, just don't eat too many or you'll get sick."

Yeosang looked almost overwhelmed at everything and you didn't know if it was from all the information you were giving him or the freedom.

"I'll try to be back soon. Don't answer the door for anyone except me, okay?"

He nodded, his attention locked on you until you stepped out the door.

The house was quiet, save for whatever was playing on the TV. Yeosang glanced around the room, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he had your entire home to himself. He let whatever was already on continue playing, his foot tapping against the floor. He wasn't really watching it, his mind wandering as well as his eyes that drifted away from the images on the television and to the decor in your living room. He never really got a good look at it, too afraid to do so.

He finally got to his feet and headed over to a bookshelf beside the TV. It had a photo of you and who he assumed were your family placed on one of the upper shelves. He was able to pick you out right away. His fingertips traced the shape of the frame, looking at your gleaming grin. Other items on the shelf were pretty vases and little decorative geometrical sculptures. He slowly made his way around the room, looking at all the items and personalized pieces you had sitting about, familiarizing himself with the space.

Eventually, his curiosity led him to your bedroom, his bare feet padding across the hardwood towards your open door. There were many things that caught his eye when he entered, one being your little wall shelves with tiny items lined along them. He shuffled over to get a better look, liking how the fuzzy rug on your floor felt against his feet. There were cute little trinkets of all sorts and even pretty rocks placed neatly along the shelf. Amongst the tchotchkes were a couple framed photos of you and other people. You looked so happy in all of them. On the walls were posters and colorful pictures depicting different things, photos and cutouts, each one different but somehow having a cohesive appearance. Everything was fairly neat, your nightstand was a little piled up and your desk area had a few stationery supplies strewn along it, but besides that, your room was tidy.

As Yeosang looked around the space, he noticed something—you didn't have any dangerous things in your room. No weapons or plaques with animal heads or horns on them. Everything in your room was cozy and sweet... just like you.

Yeosang meandered around the rest of the house, biding his time by familiarizing himself with the place and sorting out how he felt about his current situation. He still didn't feel comfortable in this new environment, however, he did feel safer, even if he was a little scared. At least he didn't have to worry about hiding anymore or wondering where he was going to sleep.

Then there was you. Your behavior was the complete opposite of the other humans he'd encountered, and yet, he and his family were already betrayed once by people he trusted. He didn't want that to happen again, but it was difficult to keep his guard up when you were so caring.

Yeosang slowly picked up the remote and pressed the menu button, scrolling through the channels, trying to figure out what he wanted to watch. He wasn't familiar with TV shows or movies, only hearing about them, so he didn't know what he wanted to see. He clicked on a few different channels, moving on to another when he wasn't interested. His browsing came to a halt when he saw a man and a woman kissing. He gasped softly, his eyes glued to the screen. His heart thumped in his chest at the sight displayed before his wide-eyed gaze. He'd never kissed anyone before due to living a sheltered life in the woods, but he always imagined what it might be like. Yeosang absentmindedly licked his lips, wondering how yours might feel on his.

A noise outside snapped Yeosang out of his daze and he jumped to his feet, scurrying over to the window when he heard the sound of a car. His body went rigid when he saw a man get out and make his way up to the front door with something in his hands. Yeosang stepped away from the window so he couldn't be seen, backing up further when heavy footsteps thudded on the front porch and a couple quick knocks were given to the door.

Your words about not answering the door for anyone echoed in his mind. Yeosang froze up for a few seconds, listening carefully, his ears twitching. Then, slowly, he creeped back to the window to see the man getting back into his vehicle and driving off down the road.

Yeosang spent the rest of his time running back and forth from the couch to the living room window, jumping at every little noise he heard, thinking it was that man coming back, but it never was. He attempted to distract himself with whatever he found on TV that caught his interest.

After what felt like hours, the sound of the lock clicking announced your presence before you even stepped inside the house. Your arms were laden with multiple shopping bags and you had a small box in your hand.

"I'm back." You announced, not missing the way Yeosang seemed to perk up at your return. "I found a package on the porch. I hope the mailman didn't startle you while I was gone."

Yeosang blinked in realization. The mailman. He didn't get mail back home, so he didn't know that's who that man was and immediately assumed he was there to harm him.

"Anyway, I got you clothes." You smiled, setting the bags down on the coffee table. "You wanna take a look?"

Yeosang leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours, then dropping down to the plastic shopping bags and carefully reaching inside one of them. He pulled out a plain-colored t-shirt, a black tank top, and two pairs of sweatpants, one black, one gray. He proceeded to the second bag and found a couple pairs of jeans and three more shirts, one of them long sleeved. Finally, in the last bag were socks, boxers, and a simple pair of shoes.

"I just got you the necessities." You murmured, hoping you didn't go overboard. "And I didn't know what style of clothes you liked so I kept it simple. I hope that's okay."

It was more than okay. Yeosang was only expecting an extra set of clothes, maybe two. He felt like he didn't deserve it, but he knew he couldn't decline, especially not when you were staring at him with expectant eyes glimmering with hope.

"Do you want to shower and change into a fresh set of clothes?" You asked, making him glance down at the borrowed garments he currently had on.

He nodded and chose what he wanted to wear, following you towards the bathroom where you got him out a towel and washcloth like last time.

"If you ever want to shower, you can. This bathroom is yours just as much as it is mine." You told him.

He set his fresh clothes on the closed toilet lid with his towel, trying to imagine coming into the bathroom whenever he wanted to bathe.

"I'll leave you to it." You excused yourself, pulling the door shut behind you.

You went back to the living room and removed the rest of Yeosang's new clothes from their bags, tossing them into the washing machine, busying yourself by washing dishes from breakfast earlier that day. One thing you'd learned about the skittish deer hybrid in the last four days was that he loved chocolate. You weren't sure what his living situation was like prior to you finding him, but it was obvious he wasn't familiar with most foods or technology. This led you to believe he'd lived away from society for most of his life, though if that was the case, how did he get clothes?

As you pondered explanations, you didn't notice Yeosang enter the room.

You flinched after spotting him in your peripherals, your hand coming up to clutch your chest.

"You startled me." You exhaled, taking in his appearance, your already racing heart jumping into your throat.

Yeosang was wearing the black tank top, the fabric clinging to him and accentuating the shape of his body as well as showing off his incredibly muscular arms. On the upper parts of his shoulders and biceps were speckles of white, like those on a baby deer; that little detail was enough to lessen the shock that his physique caused, but you still couldn't tear your eyes away. His face definitely didn't match his body.

"The clothes look nice." You finally managed to speak, realizing you'd been staring for too long. "I'm glad they fit."

Yeosang nodded and tugged his gray sweatpants up a bit, glancing down at the outfit, one of his deer ears twitching slightly, still damp from his shower.

"Do you like them?"

He gave a little nod in response, making a sense of pride fill your chest.

A week passed and Yeosang still wasn’t speaking. He only communicated with nods or shakes of his head. He'd flinch away sometimes when you held something towards him and continued to keep his distance for the most part, only standing near you when you were cooking. He seemed to be interested in that.

You were laid in bed, snuggled into your pillow with the covers pulled up and bunched around your neck, just how you liked it. Slow and relaxed breaths slipped past your parted lips as you slept, unaware of what was transpiring in the living room.

While you rested peacefully, Yeosang was the complete opposite. He'd woken up with a start, his chest heaving up and down, sweat perspiring along his forehead. His hands trembled as he recalled vivid images of the two humans that tried to hunt him down, the haunting images flashing in his mind. His heart thudded violently against his rib cage, his entire body riddled with panic as a tiny whimper slipped out of him.

He sat upright, grabbing his pillow and getting off the couch, his feet moving on their own down the hall. He stopped just outside your bedroom, staring into it.

If you need anything, just let me know. Those were the words you said to him every night before you went to bed, telling him to come get you if anything was wrong. Without thinking twice, he entered your room and stood by your bed, reaching out to gently tap your shoulder. You stirred in your slumber and he tapped you once more for good measure. Your eyes opened and you were greeted by the sight of Yeosang standing at your bedside clutching his pillow, his eyes wide, brows pulled together in an anxious manner, and his entire body trembling like a leaf.

"Yeosang?" You uttered hoarsely. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head vigorously and your heart sank. The covers on the opposite side of your bed were pulled back and you beckoned Yeosang over.

"Come on."

He stared at you for only a moment before skittering over and placing his pillow on the bed, sliding underneath the covers. In order to keep him comfortable, you stayed put on your side of the bed, even though every part of you was screaming to hold the poor guy and comfort him.

"Did you have a bad dream?" You inquired softly.

In the dim lighting, you saw him nod.

"I'm sorry." You paused, chewing your lip. If you knew what it was he dreamt about, you'd be able to console him, but for now you'd have to assume it was about something he experienced prior to you rescuing him. "Whatever it was, it wasn't real. It was just a dream, maybe something that stemmed from a bad experience. You're okay though. You're safe. No one's gonna hurt you. I won't hurt you."

Yeosang swallowed thickly, the light from the moon outside catching on his glossy eyes and you weren't sure if he was tearing up because of your words or the fear coursing through him.

"Everything's okay." You soothed, your hand moving towards him only to freeze, reminding yourself to keep a distance. "Whatever happened in your nightmare wasn't real."

He released a shaky exhale, his hands gripping the covers to ground himself to reality. You laid there watching him for minutes, wishing you could hug him or something.

"You gonna be okay?" You inquired faintly.

He let out a little hum and nodded. He'd never hummed in acknowledgement before.

You awoke the next morning to find Yeosang sleeping peacefully beside you and it appeared that he was closer than what you remembered. He was laid on his side, one of his ears twitching softly in his slumber. His hair was slightly messy, his head turned slightly in a way that his antlers didn't press into the pillow. You had the urge to reach out and touch them, but pushed it down, knowing he'd hate it.

Instead of waking him, you decided to get up and make breakfast in hopes to cheer him up after the rough night he had. As you slid discreetly out of the bed, Yeosang woke up, his breath hitching sharply as his head abruptly lifted up from the pillow. He had a look of panic in his eyes, his hand only halfway moving towards you, almost as if to stop you.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded.

"I didn't mean to startle you. I was just going to make breakfast."

His round eyes drifted back to your spot on the bed, his hand retracting as he gave a single nod.

That first night wasn't the only time Yeosang came to your room. He slept on the couch the following night and seemed fine, but ended up shuffling through your bedroom doorway the night after with a pillow clutched in his arms. It surprised you when he willingly showed up a second time, especially since he still displayed skittish behaviors with you. When you asked if he had another bad dream, he shook his head.

"You just can't sleep?" You had asked him, to which he nodded.

Of course, you allowed him to join you once more, still keeping your distance to accommodate him.

The third time it happened, you were telling him goodnight and making sure he was settled in, but he wouldn't lie down. He just kept sitting, like he was hesitant to even attempt to get comfortable. That's when you offered to share your bed again. To your astonishment, he agreed. Since then, he started sleeping with you regularly, no longer comfortable on the couch.

On one hand, you worried that he'd been uncomfortable on the sofa the whole time and didn't say anything about it, but on the other, his willingness to sleep in the same bed as you meant you'd finally built some trust with him, which was a good sign.

Yeosang shimmed underneath the sheets and covers, adjusting himself to where he could rest comfortably. It was a pattern you started to become accustomed to.

"I'm sorry if the couch wasn't comfortable. I could've made you a pallet on my floor with blankets if you would've preferred."

He was quick to shake his head dismissively, bringing you a bit of relief knowing he wasn't uncomfortable on the sofa. That meant he preferred sleeping in your bed, which made your chest warm.

You gave him a brief closed-mouth smile, turning your head back to stare at the ceiling.

"I know it's only been a couple weeks now, but I'm glad you're starting to trust me—or at least I hope you are." You closed your eyes, letting out a relaxed sigh. "Goodnight."

Yeosang hummed in response, shifting just a little before going still.

You were abruptly awoken from your deep slumber a couple hours after drifting off by small sounds of distress coming from the opposite side of the bed. You instantly turned to check on Yeosang, only to find him tossing his head back and forth, his expression twisted in anguish. He was having another bad dream.

You reached over to gently tap his arm, not wanting to startle him awake.

"Yeosang." You whispered.

Another tiny noise left him and he flinched.

"Yeosang, wake up."

You placed your hand on his arm, giving him a gentle shake. At the light touch of your hand, his eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, chest rising and falling quickly as his breathing started to become panicky. He looked around the room with wide, fearful eyes, trying to make out his surroundings.

"It's okay." You soothed in an attempt to steady his breathing. "You're okay. It was just another bad dream."

His frantic eyes met yours, his breathing slowing just a fraction at your words. Still, it was clear he was dealing with the remnants of his nightmare and a faint whimper escaped him, the sound making your chest ache.

Without giving it a second thought, you opened your arms to him, unable to let him go through this again without comforting him. The first time, you were mindful of his distrust towards you, but this time all you cared about was making sure he was alright.

"Come here." You beckoned gently.

His breathing was still ragged, ears tilted down slightly in a fearful and submissive manner. As soon as he processed your open arms, he dove in and wrapped his own around you, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, being sure to avoid poking you with his antlers. His entire body trembled as he clung to you, making your heart squeeze with a bitter mix of pity and sympathy.

"It's okay." You cooed, cautiously sliding your arms around him, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. "You're okay. I'm here."

A choked noise left Yeosang, his nose pressing further against your neck. A lump formed in your throat and you had to swallow it down, fighting back tears that threatened to well up in your misty eyes. Just what kind of horrible things did he experience that caused him to be plagued with nightmares?

You tugged the comforter up a little higher to make sure it was covering Yeosang before proceeding with your gentle and calming ministrations. His breathing had evened out a little at that point, but you didn't dare stop comforting him. Your hand moved up his back and into his hair, only combing through the back of it, steering clear of his ears and antlers, assuming it might make him uncomfortable if you touched them.

When you tried to readjust your position to get more comfortable, Yeosang's hold on you tightened and his body tensed in panic, making your heart shatter.

"I'm not leaving." You assured him. "Just readjusting."

With your reassurance, his hold loosened just enough for you to get situated. You let out a faint sigh, closing your eyes and continuing to card your fingers through his soft locks, listening to his breathing even out. Knowing he was beginning to calm down diminished your worries and you could only hope that he'd be able to rest easy now.

Your gentle caresses along Yeosang's back and through his hair slowed as you started drifting off back to sleep, your movements stopping completely after some time.

It was the warm rays of sun that stirred you from your slumber the following morning and a comforting weight on your chest that reminded you of what took place the night before. Your bleary eyes peeled open, squinting at the golden streams of sunlight illuminating your bedroom, blinking a few times to adjust to it before trailing down to the hybrid sleeping on you. Yeosang looked so tranquil, his eyes closed, lashes resting delicately on his cheeks as slow and deep breaths pushed past his slightly parted lips, that pretty birthmark on full display. He was breathtaking and it wasn't something you were just noticing. From day one, you found Yeosang to be mesmerizingly beautiful, his facial features almost too perfect, something you could only categorize as angelic or ethereal.

As if he sensed you were staring, his lids opened, his gentle chocolatey irises landing on you. You smiled at him in greeting, your eyes crinkling slightly.

"Pretty." Yeosang uttered softly under his breath.

The word barely reached your ears and your brows raised in astonishment, but instead of being shocked that he spoke, you were more focused on the heat that made its way to your cheeks in response to that single word.

"Thank you."

Yeosang blinked, visibly surprised that you heard him, both of you slightly flustered in your own ways.

"Did you rest well?" You asked, changing the subject, your voice hoarse from sleeping.

He nodded.

"Good. I was worried about you." You spoke softly. "I can go make breakfast if you're hungry."

The expression on his face let you know he was open to that.

"Anything specific you want? You seem to love chocolate chip pancakes."

At the mention of the sweet hot cakes, Yeosang nodded eagerly, not trying to conceal or downplay his enthusiasm for once.

"I'll go get started. You can stay in bed if you want or you can come watch. It's up to you."

As you left the room and rounded the corner, the faint shuffling of bare feet followed behind you, the edges of your mouth twitching upward into a half smile. Even if he didn't show it, Yeosang liked being near you, or at the very least in the same space as you, especially lately.

He watched from a few feet away as you mixed up the pancake batter, dropping chocolate chips into it. You pushed the bag of sweet morsels towards him in a silent offering. His eyes met yours as if to ask permission, to which you nodded. He cupped his hand and let you shake out a few from the bag for him. As you flipped the pancakes, you couldn't help but let your eyes steal glances at Yeosang while he ate the chocolate chips in an adorably discreetly manner. You allowed him to snack a little while you cooked, piling up three warm pancakes onto a plate for him.

You sat by Yeosang at the dining table, eating your own breakfast that you prepared for yourself, watching him chew a small bite of pancake, smudges of chocolate on his pretty lips.

"Yesoang." You chuckled softly, taking a napkin and wiping the corner of his mouth without giving it a second thought.

He flinched at your touch, gasping soundlessly and freezing up.

"Oh." You pulled your hand away. "Sorry. You had some chocolate on your face."

His human ears turned a faint rosy hue along with the apples of his cheeks as he averted his gaze and continued to eat in silence. You were left to simmer in your embarrassment and self-chastising, knowing you overstepped by getting in his personal space. You shifted awkwardly in your chair, taking a sip of your drink in hopes that it would wash away your humiliation.

"I... really like the indoor rain." Yeosang spoke suddenly, staring down at his plate, cutting up the remainder of his pancakes.

It was the first time you'd been able to properly hear his voice. He was soft-spoken, but the timbre was low and smooth like silk, almost melodic in a way.

"Indoor rain?" You echoed his words in confusion, blinking out of the little daze you were put in by his mesmerizing voice. "Oh. The shower."

He nodded.

"So you haven't used a shower before?"

He shook his head, answering softly, "We used the stream."

We. So he did have a family, or had, and he did live in the woods.

"The stream." You parroted, nodding.

This was a huge breakthrough. Yeosang was talking. Not only that, but he was giving you little fragments of his life.

The rest of breakfast was quiet, which was fine. You didn't expect Yeosang to immediately start chattering right away and was willing to give him time to fully open up.

A few days passed and Yeosang spoke a little here and there, muttering one or two word responses in an indistinct tone. He didn't divulge any more information about himself, which only confirmed your assumption that he would only share when comfortable.

It was a relaxed Friday evening and you were stood in front of the stove cooking chicken for dinner, some vegetables roasting in another pan.

"I used to have this a lot." He spoke up, taking you by surprise.

"This? In the woods?"

He nodded.

This information caused questions to form in your mind, piling up with the other ones.

"So you had a garden?"

He hummed, giving a single nod of his head, watching the meat sizzle in the pan.

"And the chicken? Where'd that come from?"

"Outside." Was all he said.

"Outside?"

He didn't elaborate on that, so you decided to let it go for now. Yeosang had already said everything he wanted to and you weren't going to push it.

Dinner was mostly quiet, save for Yeosang's small hums of appreciation as he ate. Afterwards, you cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes while Yeosang sat in the living room watching TV, hugging a pillow to his chest. Every so often you'd glance out into the area to check on him, happy to see that he was comfortably seated and not sitting stiffly like he was for the first week he was here.

You stepped into the living room, wiping your hands on your sweatpants before dropping onto the couch with a huff.

"Alright. Kitchen's clean." You announced, your eyes drifting to the TV where a Korean drama played, something he watched often when he was left in the living room. "You sure do like these shows."

Yeosang's deer ears lowered slightly in embarrassment.

"I can't say I blame you. They're addicting." You chuckled. "A little cheesy sometimes, but there's something about it that keeps you hooked. Ah. Here's one now."

Yeosang turned back to the screen, watching one of those "cheesy scenes" you spoke about where the female lead was in a bedroom with the male, the atmosphere romantic, but the both of them not acting on anything. Naturally, the girl stumbled backwards and ended up on the bed with the man collapsing on top because she grabbed him for stability.

Yeosang's eyes became rounder, his ears flicking and twitching as a rosy hue painted his cheeks.

The male lead hovered over the female, their gazes locked on one another as the space between their faces slowly diminished. Then, just when their lips were about to touch, the female's phone rang, causing the two to scramble away from each other.

Yeosang gripped the pillow tighter in his arms, letting out a noise of protest which made you start giggling.

"I knew that was gonna happen. It always does." You huffed out.

Yeosang turned to you with brows tugged together in shock.

"Yeah. That happens a lot." You told him.

He whined a little, dropping his face into the pillow.

Commercials started playing and the sound of a female voice narrating an ad for vacation homes filled the room.

"Maybe you'd like an island paradise at a luxurious beach resort, or maybe you'd prefer a relaxing stay in a cozy woodland cabin."

Yeosang's head raised from the pillow, watching the television screen where a mother, father, and their son were sitting by a campfire in front of the cabin. You noticed his attention glued to the TV, a look of longing in his eyes.

"I miss home" He uttered, his soft voice coming out quietly.

His words squeezed your chest, making your heart ache dully.

"Did you have a house?"

"A cottage. I lived with my parents. I was happy there."

You frowned, waiting to see if he would continue.

"We had friends, human ones. They'd bring us stuff from town so we didn't have to leave home. That's how we got chicken."

Now you knew what he meant when he said "outside" earlier.

"Why didn't you want to leave? Hybrids are accepted into society now."

"My parents didn't trust them, but we trusted our friends." He shook his head, making a knot form in the pit of your stomach.

"They betrayed you—didn't they?" You asked faintly, sendsing that things were about to take a sour turn.

He nodded. "Mean hunters found us. They wanted my antlers... wanted my dad's antlers."

You pressed your lips together, sighing heavily through your nostrils.

"We were so scared." He murmured, clutching the pillow tightly in his arms. "They told me to run."

"Who told you to run?" You inquired gently, hoping to coax an answer out of him.

"My parents."

"And are they..." You trailed off, hesitant to ask such a sensitive question.

"They were trapped."

"So you don't know if they're..." Your sentence went unfinished again and he shrugged.

"I'm sorry." You whispered. "I'm so sorry. That's cruel and twisted."

Yeosang swallowed thickly, adjusting his hold on the throw pillow still hugged tightly to his chest.

"If it's any consolation, most humans would never treat a hybrid like an animal. I know that's probably hard for you to believe, especially since you've had bad experiences with humans, but there are good people out there."

His gentle gaze met yours. "Like you?"

A strong emotion you couldn't put a name to rose in your throat, your face getting warm.

"Y-yeah... like me." You nodded.

Somehow, you ended up back in the kitchen, baking a chocolate cake. You needed something to take your mind off Yeosang's flustering words, and yet, he was the one you were making the cake for, thinking he needed a mood-booster after discussing his traumatic experiences. Naturally, the smell attracted him to the kitchen, luring him in like a moth to a flame. He squatted in front of the oven, staring inside, his little tail flicking in fascination behind him. You suppressed a chortle, leaning against the cabinets.

"You've never had cake before, have you?"

He glanced over his shoulder at you before turning back to observe the sweet treat, shaking his head in response.

"You love chocolate, so you'll love cake, especially this one."

He stayed in the kitchen with you for the remainder of the wait time and even watched you ice the cake.

"Would you like to try?" You asked, holding out the butter knife.

Yeosang slowly reached out to take it, following the steps he'd seen you carry out, scooping out some chocolate icing and slathering it on the cake. His eyes were focused, his lips pursed in concentration as he spread the sugary substance messily across the surface of the dessert.

A fond smile graced your lips. "Good job."

He flushed at your praise, struggling to finish icing the cake before stepping away with a faint but proud grin.

Just as the sun began to set, you stepped out on the back patio, sitting on the concrete stones that made up the platform, a fresh slice of cake in hand. Your conversation with Yeosang played on repeat in your head as you took a bite, chewing quietly. You finally got his story, or most of it, at least. It was heart-wrenching and you didn't even hear the details. Whatever you assumed had happened to Yeosang was so much worse. He was told to run and he did, hiding out in the woods for who knows how long. He never said.

The faint creak of the back door opening caused you to turn your head. Yeosang stepped out onto the patio, outside for the first time in three weeks. He lowered himself to sit beside you, crossing his legs and staring up at the blue and purple-streaked sky.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" You uttered softly.

Yeosang nodded, taking in a deep breath of fresh air, letting it fill his lungs.

"How's the cake?" You asked, gesturing to his sizable slice which already had a chunk taken out of it.

He smiled softly and nodded. "Good."

It was nice to have him respond verbally instead of silently, reminding you of the progress that had been made.

As usual, Yeosang got a little messy with the cake, chocolate icing clinging to the corners of his lips in the most endearing way.

"You've got a little something here." You gestured to your own mouth to indicate that he had food stuck there.

He blinked at you with his large eyes and leaned forward a bit, a look of expectance on his face. That's when you realized he was waiting for you to clean it for him. That awareness was enough to make your cheeks warm, but you ignored it and reached for a napkin you brought outside, using it to gently wipe the edges of his mouth. He smiled shyly afterwards, going back to eating his cake in silence.

Minutes later, your empty plates sat idly on the concrete patio, both yours and Yeosang's gazes on the sky, which was now streaked with vibrant hues of purple, blue, and pink. As stunning as the sight was, your attention drifted elsewhere, your eyes slowly moving to Yeosang, roving over his captivating side profile and antlers. He seemed to pick up on your staring, his head turning a fraction in your direction.

"Sorry." You muttered an apology. "I didn't mean to stare."

Something in the air between you two shifted after that and no matter how much you tried to ignore your feelings or push them away, they were there. You spent the rest of the evening suppressing those unfamiliar emotions swirling in your chest. It didn't help that Yeosang had gotten cuddlier at night, opting to snuggle as close as he could to you. You brought a hand up to caress his hair, your fingers barely brushed one of his ears which twitched in response.

"Oh. Sorry."

Instead of pulling away, he responded by nuzzling closer, silently encouraging you to continue. You carefully let your fingertips rub at the base of his ears, a sigh leaving Yeosang's lips in response, letting you know it felt nice.

Little by little, your hand migrated up towards the base of his antlers. You knew you were probably pushing it, but you wanted to see how far he'd let you go. With the faintest touch, you brushed your fingertips along the smooth bone of his antlers, tracing up from where they emerged from his hair. He tensed imperceptibly before relaxing again.

"They're very pretty." You uttered faintly, tracing the shape of his antlers. "And they belong right where they are."

You couldn't see it, but Yeosang smiled, letting out a short huff of laughter, your words causing an uptick in his pulse, your touch lulling him to sleep.

"Cake again?" You asked with a small grin, joining Yeosang on the couch.

Since baking the confection the day before, he'd helped himself to it, already on his third slice.

He nodded, licking icing off his lips.

"I'm glad you like it." You said with a pleased smile. "Just don't eat too much. You'll get a stomachache."

He hummed in acknowledgement and took another bite, closing his eyes in bliss.

Yeosang finished the rest of his treat, moving to set his empty plate down, which you were quick to take from him, going to the kitchen to wash it. When you returned, you dropped back onto the couch cushions, chuckling at the sight of Yesoang rubbing his stomach.

"Full?"

He nodded with the faintest hint of a smile.

You settled against the back of the sofa and watched the TV contently, happy to be able to sit like this with Yeosang.

It wasn't until you felt a hand tentatively placed on yours that your attention pulled away from whatever was on the screen. Yeosang was chewing his bottom lip, his cheeks painted with a touch of blush, fingers curling around yours. Your gaze flickered down to your joined hands, a swirl of something pleasant flaring in your gut at the sensation it brought on.

"Thank you." He uttered softly. "I never said it."

"You didn't have to." You shook your head.

"I wanted to." He murmured. "You've done so much for me."

"You deserve it. You've been through a lot."

His gaze softened at your kind words, his gentle eyes moving over your features, lingering on your lips for a fleeting moment. That alone made your heart jump, the air suddenly charged with tension as you stole a glance at his lips in return. As if he was hesitant about his own actions, he leaned in a fraction, but stopped.

"It's okay." Your voice lowered to a whisper.

As the space between your faces diminished, Yeosang's eyes darted down to your phone sitting idly at your side. He was quick to snag it and shove it between the couch cushions.

You chuckled amusedly at his actions.

"Don't worry." You assured him. "That won't interrupt us."

His face moved closer to yours, inch by inch until his soft lips finally laid themselves upon yours. The sensation that followed had your breath hitching softly, his lips like velvet against your own, kissing tentatively. You brought your free hand up to his cheek to cup it lovingly, the touch making Yeosang hum and lean closer. His hand released yours only to hover in the air, his actions full of uncertainty.

You parted ways long enough to gently take his wrist and guide his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving the other to your hip.

"Here." You told him.

He smiled softly. "I've never done this."

"It's okay." You whispered, leaning back in to kiss him, this time with more passion and confidence.

His hold on you tightened and he scooted closer, craving the proximity. A cluster of butterflies tickled your stomach, a flurry of sensations overwhelming you in the best way possible. Kissing Yeosang was quite the experience and you didn't want to stop, both hands sliding into his hair, brushing past the base of his ears, eliciting a deep sigh from him, his warm breath fanning your lips, adding to the array of pleasant sensations you were experiencing. Deciding to push the envelope a bit, you applied pressure to the base of Yeosang's ears, massaging them as you kissed him. A low noise escaped the back of his throat, vibrating against your lips, his hold on your waist tightening.

You parted ways with him, your breaths coming out in short bursts, mingling with Yeosang's.

"Wow." You breathed out.

"Are you... my girlfriend now?" Yeosang asked softly.

The innocence in his tone made you giggle.

"Yes. I suppose I am—if you want me to be."

He was already nodding eagerly before you could get the sentence out. You beamed giddily, cupping his cheek. The Yeosang before you was a far cry from the one you found in the woods trapped in a net.

"And I'm your boyfriend?" He inquired tentatively.

"Yes. Yes, you are."

"I'm heading to the grocery store. Would you like anything?" You asked, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Yeosang shifted in his spot on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy throw blanket, pursing his lips in thought.

"More chocolate chips?" He asked, chewing his lip bashfully.

"Noted." You chuckled. "I'll be back soon."

As you twisted the doorknob, you paused.

"You sure you don't wanna tag along?"

He shook his head. "Not ready."

You understood, nodding. "Alright. I'll be back soon."

The grocery store trip would be brief, as you didn't have many things to pick up. Some instant ramen, snack foods, and the chocolate chips Yeosang wanted more of—he'd been snacking on those a lot. You were about to get in line to check out when you spotted a candy bar display, reminding you that you'd run out of them recently, as that was another thing Yeosang liked to eat. You took a few off the display, your attention drawn to a bulletin board on the wall above the candy rack. An array of papers and fliers were pinned to the board, including one in particular that grabbed your attention. A hybrid rescue facility. You didn't have any groceries that needed to be put into the fridge or freezer, so you made a mental note to stop by on the way home.

Your car rolled to a gradual halt at the curb and you stepped out onto the street, approaching the hybrid rescue facility, bold letters announcing the company's name plastered on the windows of the storefront. You were only there to check it out and see how legitimate the business was, stepping inside to take a look around. By the entrance was a display holding brochures. As you were reading over an informational pamphlet, the sound of fretful voices grabbed your attention. You raised your head and glanced over your shoulder to see who was speaking. Standing just a few feet away was a male deer hybrid with partially grown antlers and a female deer hybrid beside him, they were both speaking frantically with an employee from the facility, but you couldn't make out what was being said. Both hybrids were wearing clothes that were ripped and stained, indicating they'd been in a pretty bad situation before their arrival here.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, your heart leaping into your throat. Could it be?

"Excuse me." You spoke up, cautiously approaching the two hybrids who turned towards you with curious expressions.

"I don't mean to bother you, but would either of you happen to know a deer hybrid named Yeosang?"

The man and woman's eyes widened.

"Yeosang? You know our Yeosang?" The woman asked, her tone carrying a mix of relief and panic.

"Yes." You nodded. "I rescued him from the woods a month ago. He's at my house right now."

"A month ago?" The man echoed in surprise.

"Yes. I can take you to him right now."

"I'm sorry, but they need to stay here and be processed." The employee cut in.

"Then I'll bring him to you." You promised the parents, heading towards the door.

Yeosang was startled by your abrupt entrance and the way you rushed inside, tossing the groceries haphazardly onto the kitchen counter.

"I know you said you weren't ready to leave the house yet, but you have to come with me." You told him.

"Why?"

"I found your parents."

His expression fell into one of utter disbelief.

"They're... they're okay?"

You nodded. "They're at a hybrid rescue facility in town."

Yeosang wiggled his way out of the blanket burrito he was in, shoving the fabric aside as he got to his feet, fumbling to slide on his shoes. He followed you out to your car, which you had to help him with since he hadn't been in one before. You started the engine and took off back towards town.

"How did you find them?" He asked, staring ahead at the road.

"I was at the grocery store and saw a flier for a hybrid rescue facility. I was curious, so I decided to stop by and when I went inside, they were there. It seemed like they were just rescued."

"How did they look?"

"Frantic, but unharmed."

He sighed in relief, swallowing down the lump that rose up in his throat, he was feeling so many emotions at once.

You hardly had time to park at the facility before Yeosang was wrestling with his seatbelt, trying to get out.

"I got you." You assured, clicking the buckle out of place for him.

As soon as he was freed, he started trying to open the door, his hand moving over the inside. You unbuckled yourself and hopped out of the car to help him, hurrying after the hybrid as he took off ahead of you and entered the building. Scrambling in behind him, you saw the way his frantic eyes scanned over the lobby, landing on his parents who were now seated off to the side wrapped in blankets and speaking to the same employee you saw earlier.

"Yesoang." His mother cried out, rushing forward to embrace him in a hug.

His father did the same, his arms wrapping tightly around his son.

You were overcome with emotion at the touching reunion, watching as they clung to one another. You kept your distance, letting them have their moment, talking amongst themselves and catching up after being apart.

"What happened to you guys?" Yeosang asked them.

"After you ran off, I made a deal with the hunters." His dad said. "I'd give them my antlers if they didn't harm your mother."

Yeosang's tearful eyes met those of his father, traveling up to his antlers that were in the process of growing back. "How did you get out?"

"Employees from the facility were searching the woods for hybrids living off the grid. They found your father and I in the shed those hunters kept us in." His mom's gaze became distant, a frown etching onto her features. "We were treated like animals, barely fed and kept around just so they could saw off your father's antlers and sell them."

Overhearing the conversation, you frowned, broken by his mother's recollection of events.

"The nice people here saved us though." His father added. "They called authorities and got those hunters locked away. We've been speaking with a lady and she's assured us that the facility is going to help us get back to normal life."

Yeosang smiled. "That's great." His gaze then moved to you.

He stepped away from his parents, gently taking your arm and bringing you over.

"This is Y/n. She saved me." He chewed his bottom lip, his fingers finding yours and sliding into your palm, curling around it. "She means a lot to me."

Yeosang's parents smiled warmly.

"Thank you for bringing him to us and taking care of him." The gratitude in his mom's voice was palpable and made your heart swell, a feeling of gratification warming your chest.

You returned the grin. "Of course. It was the right thing to do."

"So," You began, turning to address Yeosang now. "I guess this means you'll be moving back to the woods?"

That familiar look of panic flashed across his features and he shook his head, squeezing your hand. "I wanna stay with you." He muttered before turning to his parents with pleading eyes.

Having Yeosang continue living with you was all you wanted, but it depended on his parents and how they felt about that.

His dad laughed. "Your mom and I will be fine on our own. You don't have to worry about us."

Yeosang beamed brightly, his eyes glimmering with unadulterated joy, vowing to visit them often and check in from time to time.

The sun was shining brightly, warming your skin with its brilliant rays. You shielded your eyes and stared out at the tree line patiently, standing out on your back patio. The man you'd been waiting for emerged from the clusters of evergreens, carrying a basket over his arm.

"Hello." You greeted.

"Hi, pretty." Yeosang responded, his cheeks dusted pink at his own use of the pet name. He was a little shy about it, but wanted to try out something new. "Mom really liked those chocolate chips you sent. She wanted me to bring some muffins back. She's been learning new recipes."

"How sweet." You grinned, heading inside.

Two weeks had passed since Yeosang was reunited with his parents. They were taken back to their old home in the woods and were provided assistance from the rescue facility to return to their old life. They even went into town on their own to get groceries. Yeosang had changed a lot too. He was now having full conversations with you, still a little on the bashful side at times, but making progress.

"How are your parents?" You asked, stepping inside the house.

"They're good. They're happy to be back home again."

"That's great news."

"Oh. Mom said she'd like for you to come visit next time." Yeosang told you, placing the basket of muffins on the kitchen counter.

"I'd like that a lot. I'm curious to see where you used to live."

He chuckled and came up to wrap his arms around you, gently nuzzling his nose into your hair. "Thank you again for everything. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't rescued me."

A warm rush of adoration spread throughout your chest at his grateful words.

"You know, after I saw you in the meadow for the first time, I kept coming back to look for you."

He raised his head, his widening eyes met yours, rounded with surprise, but full of reverence.

"I'm sorry I ran away." He apologized.

"There's no reason to be sorry. You were wary of humans and rightfully so."

"If you weren't so persistent in finding me, I would've never met you. Thank you."

You smiled, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering on his skin. "And I'd do it all over again."

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