#but for real sometimes your comments have been the thing that spurred me through the day so thank you

[capriclonus]

Hi,

I just wanted to update you on the status of most of my stories. I am currently under a lot of stress for a multitude of reasons, and my lil noggin is finding it hard to write with it all.

I have the next chapter of NSWL written, it just needs looking over by my beta (and no doubt they will be doing a lot of heavy lifting this chapter so they can take as long as they need) but I don't have anything written for my other stories yet. My next aims will be NSWL, Oathbreaker and, after that, For Pluck's Sake. Hopefully, things will calm down in a month, but updates will not be as soon as I would like.

I know I've not replied to a few of your comments recently so I want you to know I've seen them and I greatly appreciate them, I just don't have the energy to reply to them as of yet. So here's me saying thank you to all who've left comments and been so kind. Your support means a lot!

[greaseonmymouth]

I saw this shared around on Threads (why do I go there, I hate it) and commented on as 'this article is so good' and 'must read' including by a few people whose opinion I normally respect, and seeing as monsterfucking and monster everything is like a special little interest for me, I of course instantly clicked through to read it

and I have to say

what the everloving heterosexual fuck is this

two fat paragraphs about omegaverse that don't even mention its origins - I mean - I just - gaze upon this phrase, and despair:

During estrous, Omegas’ vaginas ooze with “slick,” responding to the Alpha’s intoxicating pheromonal perfume.

IT'S CALLED "SLICK" BECAUSE IT'S FROM SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES. THE REASON THE OMEGAS NEED SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES TO BEGIN WITH IS BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE VAGINAS.

I. have been rendered figuratively speechless. the straights don't know what slick is. the. i. how. how did we end up like this

their dicks swell at the base, creating a “knot,” which lodges them inextricably in the Omega’s slick-soaked (I am so sorry) vagina.

"(I am so sorry)" girl you're writing an article about monster smut and then you have the gall to be embarrassed by the this tame ass (or should i say vagina?) heterosexual omegaverse?

okay, okay. deep breaths. we've only just got started. we started by covering Morning Glory Milking Farm, a minotaur/human erotic romance novel, which well - I've read it, and it's not a bad book by any means, it was actually very very good, a solid story with a great cast and perfectly paced and satisfying romance and loads of sex - is very straight. it's just a minotaur. it's a big guy with a big dick. it's your standard gentle giant/normal sized girl romance. it's not very freaky, but you know, I don't blame the average reader for coming into this thinking this is some out there stuff. gotta start somewhere, right? we didn't all come up through draco/the giant squid crackfic in 2005, you know? and now we've covered Sarah J Maas and we're entering omegaverse territory, this is getting knottier now, right, freakier? this article is going somewhere, right?

you can imagine the intrigue, enemies-to-lovers, and other story lines involved as each captured female eventually finds the member of the barbarian tribe who is destined to worship and fuck the living daylights out of her for the rest of their lives. Oh, and their dicks have a sensitive spur on top designed for clitoral stimulation. It’s just as blue and velvety as the rest of their big alien bodies.

okay so the minotaurs aliens are blue now, i guess.

It seems, also, like the romance genre as a whole is being pushed by monster romance to make things in human-human books as freaky as possible.

ohh?? are we finally getting a proper freak on now??

This genre, “why choose?” or “MMF” (or sometimes even MMMF or MMFM), and also known as “reverse harem,” always features a heroine who is showered with sexual attention by men who are also sexually involved with each other.

having a thousand yard stare moment over here

this author seriously thinks that all these heterofied monster romance tropes are paving the way for the real freaky stuff that is, checks notes, "two hockey players fucking each other while the heroine calls the shots"

this author is positing that human queer erotica/romance are freakier than monster erotica/romance. like. she said that. with her whole chest. black on white.

on one hand a monster, an inhuman being, and on the other, a queer person, a human being. and apparently the real freak is not the minotaur or the blue alien. it is the queer human.

is this satire? it has to be, right?

because if it's not satire, this article is an entire case study in itself on the monstering* of queer people. stunning.

*academic term

[thorniest-rose]

Hi everyone,

A lot’s happened over the last few days and I know that I’ve been under a lot of scrutiny and the subject of conversation, so I wanted to take a moment to talk about it with you. I didn't address it last week when I was told that people in the fandom were posting about me and sharing screenshots of my blog. This was to protect my mental health, but now I want to share my own thoughts.

It's really hard not to lash out in situations like this because of how much it hurts. To go through something like this is shocking and humiliating, it rips the ground up from under your feet. But I didn't want to go on the attack because I knew how much worse that would make things. No matter how opinionated I am, conflict makes me feel sick and makes me want to hide. So instead of lashing out, I've done a lot of thinking over the past few days, not just about what's happened to me, but about things I've done and what could have led to this.

Firstly, I want to apologise to everyone whose feelings I may have hurt when I posted certain things in the past. I want any space that I cultivate to be a happy, positive one for the people who spend time here and at times I think I’ve unintentionally created an atmosphere that has felt combative or alienating. I honestly never consider myself to be a well-known writer or someone whose voice has reach in the wider fandom. No matter how many followers I have or how many people read my fics, I always see myself as a girl just spending time on her tumblr, but that's naive and I should have recognised that in a shared space, all opinions are seen and have an impact. 

Discourse is my least favourite thing about interacting in fandom and there have been times where I’ve let myself be drawn into it. That doesn’t mean it’s ever okay to look down on what other people enjoy and I really regret posting those things now because that’s not who I am as a person. Expressing displeasure and other negative feelings isn’t what I want to engage in and I should remember how easy it is for flippant, spur of the moment comments to be taken out of context. Saying things like “I don’t like this” even on my own blog is immature and beneath me and I’m genuinely sorry.  

I am also in no way any sort of authority on how these characters are written, no one is. A fandom is for everyone. I’m passionate and vocal in my own space because I treat my tumblr as a slumber party with my friends, but in my enthusiasm, there have been times where it seems like I’m saying my characterisations are the only valid ones. I don’t think that’s the case at all, and I genuinely love and admire the creativity in this fandom. I’ve said this before, but just because I have preferences doesn’t mean I want every characterisation to be the same as mine because that would become extremely dull. I believe that any and all interpretations should have an audience.

However, while I take responsibility for the things I've said on my blog, the things that have been said about me in response have been extremely spiteful and damaging. I never wanted a war with anyone. I should know better than to court discourse in such a volatile fandom, even inadvertently. To take issue with me and what I said is fine, I accept the criticism and apologise; at times my comments have been juvenile and mean-spirited. But a group of people targeting me, screenshotting my posts, calling me names and attacking what I write isn’t proportionate at all and encourages a wider pack mentality. I think we should all remember that there is an actual person behind the screen reading the things that we post and that our words can cause real harm. It’s easy to dehumanise an avatar and a username. And I think it speaks to a rot at the heart of fandoms that so many people find pleasure in fighting and where feelings can fester into hatred and vitriol.

I am outspoken and passionate about what I love. I sometimes bristle at things I see that don’t gel with my ideas or at a misjudged tone, and I post about them instead of seeing the bigger picture and moving on. It’s a flaw and something I’m working on, to be more open and less reactive. I don’t want fighting or tension, and I don’t want rivalries. I also don’t ever want to make people feel like their characterisations are wrong/invalid/unworthy or that they themselves don’t belong and that I’m some kind of fandom queen bee trying to ice them out. While that’s genuinely never been my intention, I can see how things have been taken that way and I’m sorry for that too.

Again, I’m sorry to everyone I’ve hurt or alienated with comments that I’ve made. I always want to be kind and compassionate. And while I don’t think what’s happened over the past few days is OK, I can see the bigger picture and why things I’ve said, or the atmosphere I’ve cultivated, has planted seeds of resentment. I've also unblocked the person who's been posting about me, if they want to reach out to talk privately.

I know there are people reading this who have been following me for the past four years, and in that time have seen me struggle, and fall down, and make mistakes, but hopefully grow and learn from those mistakes too. I’m so grateful to you all.

I’m going to take a break from tumblr for a week or so, to spend time away from socials, to connect with friends and other passions and focus on self-care. And to write, of course, because I’ll always be writing, whether it’s here or elsewhere.

See you all soon,

Brooke 💕

[yujo-nishimura]

Red Hair or Red Nose?

Comment: I haven't written anything like this in 20 years, so please be gentle with me and my attempt to be creative. ;) Buggy, Shanks x fem reader - I had the idea that the real reason for their rivalry was a love interest. This is rather fluffy and romantic, I tend to write SFW but I might continue adding some spice later.. ;)

Also don't hate me for the title <3

Warning: English is not my native language, I only write for the enjoyment, I have been a One Piece fan for 20 years, but not as dedicated as I am supposed to. ;)

It has been several years since you made the decision to part ways with the Red-Haired Pirates and embark on your own journey. The initial entertainment of the constant rivalry between Shanks and Buggy, which was funny at first, had gradually transformed into a farce that grew increasingly tiresome. As a young girl, you felt incapable of pledging your loyalty to either of these captains. Instead, you held your own vision of adventure and exploration on the Grand Line.

Having spent some years on Gold D. Roger's ship, you reached a point where you felt it was time to forge your own path. With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to your fellow crew members, leaving behind a profoundly saddened Shanks and a furious Buggy. You recognized that it was necessary to discover your true self and create some distance from those who sought to control and dictate your life.

However, deep down, you held onto the hope that someday you would cross paths with your childhood friends once more. You eagerly anticipated that, as they matured, Shanks and Buggy would overcome their rivalry and conflicts, transforming into an unbeatable duo, renowned as the most daring and fearless pirates on the Grand Line.

Little did you expect that fate would bring you together again, reuniting all three of you in one location. To your dismay, you discovered that nothing had changed in their immaturity and insatiable desire to outdo one another. The relentless competition and quarrels went on, defying your hopes for a more harmonious reunion.

Seated in a cozy pub within a small town, you found yourself taking a break while your modest crew of five ventured out to gather supplies for your journey. Beside you, the navigator quietly sipping his drink, engrossed in studying the surrounding islands' charts. With a sense of tranquility, you sipped on your third whiskey, relishing the calm that washed over you. The previous days at sea had been harsh and tiresome, and this brief intermission served as a well deserved break.

Reflecting upon your role as captain, you couldn't help but acknowledge the absence of a warning about the challenges and responsibilities that would accompany your departure from Gold D. Roger's crew. Sometimes you were just really tired and wished you had chosen a different path. Not being the one to everybody was relying on, but having someone to rely on yourself. Your crew loved you and was loyal, but you knew that it was not always easy to make the right decisions.

Amidst the silence, your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a quarrel coming from outside. A distinct laughter, filled with warmth and familiarity, pierced through the peaceful atmosphere, contrasting against an enraged voice that screamed:

"What did you say? You were lying about the treasure map? Damn you!"

"It was a spur of the moment thing, Buggy!"

As the words reached your ears, a surge of disbelief washed over you, leaving you momentarily speechless. The voice, the name—it couldn't be true! In an instant, you rose from your seat, causing your navigator to stumble in surprise. "Captain...?" With determination across your face, you swung open the pub's door, your eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.

There they stood, the two individuals you hadn't laid eyes upon in years. Buggy the Clown, his face split by an angry grin, standing confidently at one end, his blue hair hidden under his hat. Shanks, the charismatic captain of the Red-Haired Pirates, standing at the other end, his trademark red hair shining in the moonlight.

As your gaze fixed upon the grown men before you, disbelief washed over you once more. Both Shanks and Buggy had transformed into striking individuals, tall and muscular. Shanks, draped in a dark cape, possessed an air of tranquility and composure that radiated from him and his charming smile. In contrast, Buggy's flamboyant attire, adorned with vibrant colors, accentuated his clown nose and his face adorned with flashy makeup. They were undeniably stunning.

A gulp escaped your throat as a peculiar sensation stirred within you, similar to fluttering butterflies or perhaps little caterpillars partying in your intestines. It might also just be the Whiskey. When had those two teenage boys blossomed into these charismatic pirate captains? And more importantly, when would they notice your presence, frozen in astonishment, between their encounter?

To be continued...

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 17: oral fixation

stray kids 1.1k words female reader insert Reader x Kim Seungmin NSFW

🖤 warnings: kink discovery, a nice good-natured roasting during sexytimes, penetrative sex (f receiving), mild d/s dynamics🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

This would undoubtedly be considered a happy accident.

He just wouldn't shut up.

Which, honestly, is par for the course for Seungmin. If there's a snide comment available for the situation at hand, he's gonna say it. That's just in his nature. But sometimes it gets under your skin. Not every action needs running commentary, you know?

An endearing quirk can turn annoying so quickly. Especially in bed, where you're both so vulnerable and things can be taken so personally.

This was one of those times, when every little thing you did was being met with a comment and a raised brow, a challenge. You were annoyed, and you really needed him to get in the zone for a second. So you pressed your hand over his mouth to physically keep him quiet.

That didn't work, though. So, even more annoyed, you shoved your fingers into his mouth.

It was spur of the moment. You might even call it an accident.

But you did it; you shoved two fingers into his mouth so that he couldn't spout any bullshit around them.

And now you're sitting here, your fingers still pressing against his tongue, your wrist cramping awkwardly from being held aloft. Seungmin is similarly frozen. staring at you in relative terror.

The unabashed moan that'd just come out of his mouth is still ringing in your ears.

It was sincere, from deep in the chest, far too real to be him fucking with you. He's embarrassed, too. You can tell from his wide, frantic eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, you pull your fingers back, not even minding the wet grossness. That doesn't matter now.

"Um..." Seungmin tries and fails.

"What was that?" you ask.

He's very sincere. "I...don't know."

"Because it seemed like..."

"Babe, please-"

"It seemed like you were about to nut hardcore just from my hand in-"

"Please," he begs, as if you're not going half as easy on him as he usually goes on you, roast-wise.

"What?" you ask. "If that's something you like, I wanna deliver."

You also aren't gonna give up this golden opportunity to mess with him, but that goes without saying.

"Who said that's something I like?" he challenges shakily.

Well, you're both bare-ass naked. You'd gotten pretty far into this encounter, clothes long forgotten and skin against skin. So there is one above-average-sized hint that this is indeed something he likes. He's still rock-hard.

You don't mention it, though. "Are we gonna pretend that didn't just happen?"

"I would prefer that, yeah!"

If it's what he really wants, then yeah, eventually, you'll let it go. You're not about to really upset him for no reason. But how could you let this slip through the cracks without proper investigation?

"Okay," you say. "Okay. So you're telling me you don't want me to keep putting-"

"That's not pretending it didn't happen!" Seungmin complains.

"I'm sorry," you apologize soullessly.

He glares at you, but he does let you get in nice and close again.

Moment of interesting new sexy discovery or not, you still want him. And you're gonna have him. Comfy on his lap, now, you're just a quick adjustment and a slow, careful slide away from being filled by him.

"Fuck, yes," Seungmin sighs.

You settle against his thighs, grinning as you feel him flex beneath you, trying not to buck up into you too hard, too soon.

"I missed you, you know," you tell him.

Seungmin tilts his head to the side, puppylike, wry. "It's been like three days."

"Three days," you agree. "Terrible."

"Needy."

"That's you."

It's so comfortable with him, though. Comfortable, as you take up a slow, rocking rhythm to ride him. Even comfortable enough to try your luck with some more mischief.

The first time was a happy accident. This time is on purpose.

You're gentle about it, not wanting to upset him by being too aggressive or embarrassing or, like, disrespectful. No, you just trace your hand over his gorgeous face, down the line of his cheekbones, to his pretty jaw. He indulges in the attention, too, always glad to have your eyes on him.

Carefully, you press your fingers against his lips again.

He pouts.

"What?" you ask.

Seungmin doesn't make you move your hand, though, speaking against your fingertips. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," you promise. "I'm really not."

"I get it, it's funny that I mo- reacted, or whatever. Let it go," he says.

You stare at him, imploring.

"If you really, really want me to drop it, I will," you say, "But I really feel like this is something you like. And if it is, then I want to try it."

You can't say for sure why you're being so adamant about this.

Maybe because Seungmin so rarely asks for things like this for himself. He's pretty tame, in bed, very much fine with you making the changes that you want, calling the shots according to your tastes. He'll always tell you what he doesn't like, but it's much less common to hear what he does like.

There's nothing more exciting that the idea of giving him something that he wants.

Seungmin does not disappoint.

He's flushing pink across his cheeks and his neck, and he's so fucking hard inside you, as he parts his lips and lets you press your fingers inside his mouth again.

It's just gentle pressure, the weight of your fingers on his tongue. Simple, for you, barely anything at all.

You're still rolling your hips gently, stimulating yourself to keep things interesting, as you curiously watch his expression change. A little bit distracted. Floaty eyes, something, you'd wager, like that headspace after a good orgasm. You're fascinated.

Oh, this is different. He likes this.

You clench around him, rising up and sitting back down, and he groans, lips moving around your fingers.

You do it again, but this time you press your fingers into his tongue just a little, making the weight of them more noticeable.

This time, he moans.

"Baby, you really like this," you say, breathless.

Seungmin looks you in the eye, his gaze unfocused. He doesn't try to speak around your fingers, but the flush spreads to his ears.

"You just need your mouth full, huh?" you say.

You're not expecting it, but he nods, dazed.

"Oh, honey." You can't help the way you're practically cooing. "Seungmo, baby, did you not know?"

His tongue flexes against the pads of your fingers.

"Before today?" you clarify, "Did you not know that this was something you wanted?"

Sheepish, he shakes his head.

"Have you never gotten fucked with your pretty mouth filled?" you ask.

You can't even be embarrassed about the way you're talking. It's too good, to delicious, to have him like this.

Flustered, lost in the moment. His hips are rocking up into you, his lips wrapped around the intrusion of your fingers.

Incredible.

[king-paimon]

I've read up on your blog through a lot of Houseki no Kuni's manga. I liked your analysis though I gotta say come the last chapters, specifically since chapter 95, I didn't always agree with them.

I didn't need the end to be happy sunshine and rainbows, or the opposite, for Phos to go all revenge monster on the gems either. But at the end there, I felt like we all just accepted everything Ichikawa threw at us with no criticism, all that torture flattening the narrative's nuance, and if I didn't like it, I was seeing it through the wrong angle.

I know you don't act like that, which I appreciate. Throught all your reviews, you expressed understanding on why so many people disliked the story. Thank you for that, thank you for not being judgemental. And I'm glad you enjoyed the ride.

I just couldn't help but feel like so many story threads were left lose, and so many complete 180°s were thrown that didn't match the story or it's characters. Some people described it as a self-sabotaged narrative, and I see it. It wasn't enough to give me catharsis - especially with the character set up as the villain getting everything he wanted.

I guess I just had higher standards, which the story didn't meet. That is not a bad thing, after all.

I think my biggest gripe is with how Cairngorm's character was handled, and I'd like to include this here. The ambiguity of their predatory relationship was in poor taste, and remained unaddressed. I can see why so many of my friends left the series when that plot point happened. They deserved better.

Hi @intoxtinction! Thank you for sending me this message and sorry that it took me so long to finally respond. Real life has been kicking my butt and free time to do anything on here is a rarity. But I still wanted to write a response to you because I really loved your response! And yes, I saw the comment you left on my last HnK meta post. You're good; don't worry about it!

Thank you again for your kind words. I'm glad that you like my posts, even if they sometimes become long, nonsensical rambles and especially if you don't agree with some of my points! I love that. Whenever I wrote my posts, I always try to keep an open mind and take into account that all fans are different and would have different views when it comes to works works like HnK. As far as I can see, HnK is one of those works that is supposed to draw up conversations because it's not a simple, straight forward story with clear distinction between black/white moral characters. Everyone who reads it is going to view the events in the story differently based on their own beliefs and even if everyone's views conflict with one another, I think it's fascinating and even wonderful. So even if I may not agree with some fans when it comes to certain aspects of HnK, I never hold it against them. I don't want to demonize anyone for how they interpret the story, at least not too harshly anyways. I know when I'm biased, but I don't let that stop me from at least trying to understand where other fans are coming from. HnK was such a fascinatingly complex and unconventional story, and the fact that it can spur many views and feelings from people is one of the reasons whyI liked the series.

With that being said, however, I also think it's important to be open to properly critique our favorite works. HnK is not immune from these critiques, because for as much as I enjoyed following the story over the past couple of years, there are many aspects in the overall story that were far from satisfying. So many loose ends, incomplete character arches, and questionable story decisions... After being away from the story for some time now, it's become more apparent that there were many aspects to the HnK that has me question Haruko Ichikawa's story telling abilities. Don't get me wrong, she's shown to be a very fascinating storyteller and I overall liked what she created. But when it comes to the incomplete story threads for all of the other characters besides Phos, I can't tell if some of Ms. Ichikawa's decisions were intentionally left up for interpretation or if their stories were just not important to complete since at the end of the day, HnK is about Phos's story. One of these decisions I question the most about is Cairngorm's story arch, so I couldn't agree more with you, @intoxtinction. Cairngorm was done dirty in so many ways and they deserved a more satisfying ending to their story.

I was planning on writing two last posts that would be focusing on these topics. But because life has been kicking my butt too much lately, I don't know when they will be out, if at all at this point. But if I'm able to complete them, I hope you'll get the chance to read them and share your own thought. And again, it's totally fine if you don't agree with my points; I'd still love to read them!

[bleue-flora]

Okay, so I heard you wanted to answer some questions so...How about 2, 4, 7, 16, 23, 56, and 73?

(Sorry if it's a lot, you don't have to answer them all if you don't want)

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Most of the time I write chapters and then determine the order and/or if I have to break it into multiple chapters. Sometimes I play scrapbook with random bits of writing I have and put those into a more cohesive chapter. Frequently, I’ll have a plan for like a set of chapters as far as what I want them to be. So a bit of both I guess.

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Everything?… I mean for starters I have a list that’s made up of words I come across and think I can use later. Sometimes I’ll experience something and it’ll spur a writing section like tasting iron and writing a whole segment on blood. The most random things may inspire me to use as a description or metaphor like watching grass on the side of the road get pushed by the wind. Sometimes quotes from movies I’m watching or elsewhere inspire me. Sometimes an idea comes directly from a person intentionally or unintentionally. Comments can often spark something. Watching old dsmp streams for research is when I’ll sometimes catch a detail I didn’t before. Reading other fics can fuel new ideas. And sometimes I’m just delirious at 3am and decide that Quackity should crucify Dream… XD

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

It’s usually framed by the story or idea and often because I have specific thoughts I want the character to have.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Good question, which I answered here. It seems great minds think alike.

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

Not sure I have any business giving advice since I’ve only been writing fanfics for about a year now. But I’ll say this, don’t push yourself into writing if you can’t. Writers block happens and inspiration or creativity aren’t always available, which is ok. Those skills aren’t concrete like being able to pull out your calculator and do math or drive a car or brush your teeth. It’s a process and it comes and goes. I think everyone goes through it in one sense or another, but that doesn’t mean you have to let it beat you. Understand it is inevitable so no need to panic or apologize or give up. Instead, read other people’s works, talk to other writers for ideas, go enjoy life or any of the things I mentioned in 4. Inspiration will come again.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I’d say it’s hard for me to pride myself in general. I write because I enjoy it not because I necessarily think it’s good (that requires confidence, which I don’t have XD) I’ve been told that my descriptions are very captivating and help the reader feel and see it in their mind, so probably that. People also tend to appreciate my dialogue which I try to make as real and accurate as possible even if that means lots of stuttering and filler words.

73. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

My insanity?…. Lol I mean, come on who else is writing hopscotch torture or making nutrition labels for their works? XD… For real though, I think my more flowery poetic style of writing isn’t standard. Someone once accused my chapter of being written by AI which I thought was both highly insulting and hilarious, because honestly my writing doesn’t follow the laws of grammar or story telling, like what do you mean you think a robot wrote this nonsense lol. ;)

[mossible]

Hellooo I have come from AO3 to say Many Things!!! About Cracked Snowglobes!!

But now i'm unsure where to even begin with the gushing because chapter 4 has left me CLIMBING the walls, hanging upside down from my ceiling, HOWLING because good cod !!!!! Intense argument after intense emotional moment after brief humorous, hopeful breath of air, thEN MORE INTENSE CONFLICT--

I was positively SHAKING in bed when i read it last night, it left me IN SHAMBLES (⁠╯⁠°⁠□⁠°⁠）⁠╯⁠︵⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

I've been meaning to comment in more detail on every chapter, and just list up everything little detail and exchange i love, but after the current chapter i had TO COME HERE FIRST to send an Ask!!

I am SO HAPPY to see Off the Hook and the Squid sister and Splatoon hanging out, and knowing that sweet, brave Eight is in good, caring hands now 🥺 they deserve the world, and their genuine admiration and trust in Octavio had me 🥹 it was so cathartic to see Marina have the heart to heart she needed with her former leader as well, even if they don't agree with everything, Octavio's growth already showed a teeeny tiny bit in him, reluctantly, agonizingly, agreeing with Marina and making that promise to her (and by extension, to Eight and all of his people)

I don't know what you have planned for the next chapter, i know this one's gonna be tricky since it has to essentially fill in the void between game 2 and 3, but man!!! I really really really hope that, despite all of the baggage and anger and yelling, Octavio can find some solace, something to hold onto, in the genuine hope and trust that Eight, Callie, and Marina put in him, in spite (or because?) of everything 🙏 he's gonna have another tough road ahead of him, but i believe in this stubborn, clever, spiteful old man 🐙 he has fucked up many times before, but i believe he will try his best to keep his word, if only to not let the people down that put their trust in him (maybe that's hust me being delulu and naive tho agsjshdjfhgfd)

My god that ENDING tho!!! The leaky roof has CRASHED DOWN metaphorically, and it's really lucky that Octavio jumped the heck outta there because i would NOT want to be at the camp after all that!

There's poor Callie, probably having a small breakdown rn, and Cuttlefish, who let some /real nasty/ things slip out there (granted, that was mostly the result of being spurred on and goaded by Octavio to be his worst self, i think) that i can't rly see Marina and Eight just... overlook, tbh (especially after he also pulled that whole past identify reveal on Marina in the Metro, which could have potentially ended very, very poorly)... The mood there is probably. 😬😬😬 Rip to the planned party 🎉

There's soooo much more i would like to say, but yeah that's gonna be probably better said in individual chapter comments, but i just HAD to get this all out!

Thank you so much for your incredible work!! The long chapters are a delight to read personally, even if they seem a bit daunting at first; since the writing and pacing is so good, it's very easy to breeze through them :D

I wish you a belated Happy New Year and lots of inspiration, motivation, and free writing time for the chapter 5, I'm super looking forward to whatever you've planned next! 🙌🐙✨

WAUUAUGHH TYSM OMGGG!! i absolutely relate on the commenting thing LOL sometimes ill spend months keeping up with a fic, only to realize later on that oh. oops i havent commented at all. i really shouldve done that! very much a regular ao3 reader thing to overlook it, so i absolutely dont blame u at all LMAO (i do look forward to the comments though, ive said this like hundreds of times it feels like already but feedback rlly is such a strong motivator when it comes to writing! very funny how reading words makes you want to make more words)

but. again. WAHHH thank you !! im glad youve been enjoying so far, and ur kind words mean so so sososo much ;_; omg

i'm very excited to get chapter 5 out to yall, but im also super excited to just like. write it in general LOL it has a LOTTTTT of stuff that i cant exactly talk about just yet, considering that it would all be spoilers for what exactly goes down, but im super hyped for it. and im the one writing it!

the only thing i can say is that, yeah youre spot on about it being tricky and having to bridge that gap! i don't have any plans to change the actual plot points that happen in the games themselves, excluding whatevers gonna happen for the s3 dlc which we essentially know uh. nothing about! we're currently still on track to be following the story modes' outlines. (but as soon as we get off of that track? hooh boy ive got some silly ideas >:))

again tho, thank you so much ik i keep saying it but. it means so much to hear how yall are liking the fic !! <3

[professorrw]

Destined to be a Death Eater

Pairing: female reader x Lucius Malfoy

Requested: Yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, spanking, thigh riding, Death Eater!Reader

A/N: Requests are open for one-shots, headcanons, imagines, and drabbles for My Hero Academia, Harry Potter, and Marvel! My taglist is open so if you’d like to be on that just tell me! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Being a Death Eater was your destiny, your lineage. Your parents were dark wizards, sent to Azkaban during the first wizarding war. You were just a teen at the time but your family had instilled the pureblood mindset into you from a young age. After your parents were locked up your grandparents took you in, furthering your learning of dark magic. It was natural that you followed in your parents’ footsteps and became a Death Eater, aiding the Dark Lord from behind the scenes.

That was how you met Lucius. At the time you met him and were even interested he was married and had a young child, Draco. You were vile towards your fellow purebloods and backed off, leaving the man and his family be. However, you felt like Lucius was attracted to you as well. During meetings his eyes would always find themselves looking at you. You caught him multiple times and only smirked at him in response. 

That was until one day. It had been months since you’d met Lucius and he never made any advances towards you. You were growing tired of waiting for him and decided it was about time to move on and find someone else. Before and after meetings at the Malfoy Manor you would mingle and sometimes even flirt with the other members, men and women alike. This didn’t go unseen by Lucius. Unbeknownst to you, he had just finalized his divorce with Narcissa and he had his eyes set on you.

You stood next to Bellatrix, mindlessly flirting and twirling your hair. Lucius stood nearby, just close enough to hear what you were saying to her. He was slowly but surely getting ticked off. Now that he was free to do as he pleases he wanted you. He thought he had made that clear over the past few months he had known you but then there you were, winking and laughing with Bellatrix.

He had finally had enough and said goodbye to who he was talking to and walked over to you and his ex sister-in-law. “If you’d excuse me Bellatrix but I would like to have a word with Y/N.”

You looked over at Lucius. What could he want to talk to you about? There wasn’t a lot happening in the realm of the Death Eaters, nothing urgent at least, for him to speak to you about. 

“Well go on, I suppose I can find other company. I’ll see you later Y/N, Lucius.” Bellatrix turned and began to look around for someone else to bother, or that’s what Lucius thought she did.

With Bella gone it was just you two. “Lucius? What do you need to speak to me about?” you asked.

“Your behavior,” he said in a low voice.

Your eyebrows knit together. “Whatever is wrong with my behavior?” You were a little slow to catch on to what the real meaning was.

“You throw yourself onto other men, other women, while I stand and watch. If I wasn’t mistaken I thought you were attracted to me.” He looks down at you with one eyebrow raised.

You take just a moment to process what he’s talking about. “Even if I was, you are a married man. I would never betray Narcissa like that.”

“Narcissa and I are no more. We have just finalized our divorce.” He gives you a pointed look before realization dawns on your face.

“Oh… well. I guess you should have told me Lucius, maybe I would have acted better.” You smirk up at him and trail a finger down his arm. “I imagine I’m in trouble for this, yes?”

“Yes. Yes you are. Come along and I’ll punish you.” He turns on his heel and you follow him through the halls to his bedroom.

He opens the door for you and locks it behind him. You look around the large room. Against one wall there’s a large four poster bed with black covers. Opposite that there’s dark leather furniture, a couch and two chairs beside it, creating a semi-circle around the fireplace.

Lucius walks ahead of you and sits on one of the leather chairs. He beacons you with the flick of his wrist. “Bend over my lap.”

You don’t even hesitate to bend over his legs. You were always into the more rough erotic things, such as spanking. The idea of it always made you wet.

Lucius hooks his fingers into the pants you were wearing and pulls them down, showing him your lacy black panties. He stiffens at the sight of your plump ass.

He winds his hand back and spanks your butt with a loud smack. The reaction you gave from it wasn’t what he was expecting though. He may have expected you to whimper or even possibly start crying but you moaned. The blonde man was momentarily shocked before he resumed his task.

He smacked you another two times resulting in you becoming wet and aroused. You get off his lap and kick off your pants. You decide to take a risk and pull down your panties too, laying them in Lucius’ lap for him to see the wet spot.

He looks down at them and picks them up, examining them. He smirks and tosses them on the floor.

“Why don’t you cum for me darling?” He pats his thigh and you sit down on it, the material of his pants rubbing against your pussy. “Well, go on,” he says. He pops his thigh up a bit so it grinds against your core. You throw your head back and get to moving. You grip the arm rests as you move back and forth across his thigh.

Occasionally Lucius would pop his thigh up just to spur you on more. He was enjoying the sight before him, you at his will, grinding against his leg. His cock was painfully hard but he wasn’t going to give into it. He hooked his finger under your chin and pulled your moaning lips to his. He kissed you roughly, tongue sliding in to muffle the sounds dying to be let out. 

You let go of the arm rests and instead insert your fingers in his long hair. You tug on it slightly and a low groan escapes his lip. He starts moving his thigh in time with your movements, making you feel pleasure like never before. You have to quit kissing him by the time you reach your high. Your face is contorted in ecstasy as your loudest moan yet rings out. Your cum spills out onto his pants, staining them with the sticky juice.

You come to a stop a minute later and pant against Lucius lips. For the first time he lets his hands go to your hips and he pulls you flush against him. Your arms wrap around your neck and you were sure he was going to start undressing anytime soon but he didn't.

“You-You’re not going to-” 

“No. I think that can wait until next time. You’re still being punished.”

Taglist: @bellamy1998​ 

[amor-immortalem]

Friends (With Benefits)

Minors DNI

A/N: Fair warning this is a mammonxoc smut-not a very good one but its a smut nonetheless- because its just that kinda day... It’s not the first one I’ve written but it’s the first one I’ve ever posted that hasn’t been part of a role play so... yeah. Do with that info what you will...

I'm not participating in kinktober but since its that time of year I figured eh why the hell not. Now, if you excuse me. I need some water.

Also I’m doing that 48hr post+ protest so any comments questions or concerns will be heard on the 4th.

Warning(s)?: unprotected sex, oral sex (Female receiving) size kink (if you squint)

Gods she needed to get off. She’d been down here on the exchange programme for about six months at this point and yeah, Asmodeus made it a point to make sure she had plenty of quality toys at her disposal for the year, but it just wasn’t as satisfying as the real thing. Not to mention, she never had a moment’s peace in this god-forsaken house to begin with. It was common place for Arella to come home to Mammon or one of his brothers making themselves at home here in her room or just barging in whenever they felt like it- no better way to kill the mood than getting walked in on by one of her housemates.

In fact, that’s the case today. Arella had come home a little earlier than the others due to them being stuck for a student council meeting for the express purpose of having some privacy and time to relieve her frustrations without risking the chance that one of those pesky demons would interrupt her. Of course, that wasn’t the case for her as waiting on her bed was the Avatar of Greed himself scrolling through his phone like it was no big deal- dressed in only a pair of grey sweat pants because of course he would be.

It was a nice view though. Despite Mammon’s frustrating hot-’n-cold attitude sometimes, he always is pleasing to look at and now in her desire-addled mind, Arella finds herself scanning over his form as her eyes drift lower and lower until...

“Ya gonna just stand there or...?” Mammon calls, not looking away from the screen of his phone.

Her face flushes at the notion that he’s caught her eyeing him up like a piece a meat. “Why’re you in here, Mammon? Surely, you have better things to do since you’re always so busy.”

“Well yeah, naturally, I’ve always got shit ta do but I said we were gonna do movie night after school today so...”

“Can you give me a few hours, please? I... have to take care of something.” Arella sighs when the demon makes no effort to leave but rather shifts a little to the point that the material of his pants leaves astoundingly little to the imagination.

She audibly swallows, trying so hard not to stare. Arella has to look away, her face an impossibly bright shade of red as her mind starts to wander into the gutter. She could always order him away with the pact but she always did hate using it unnecessarily. It’s not until she sees the smirk on his face that she knows he’s fucking with her.

“What’s so important that I can’t be here, huh?” Mammon drops his phone on the bed beside him.

“That smirk on your face tells me you know exactly why.” The human glares at him.

“Yeah ‘n that’s why ‘m not goin’,” The Avatar of Greed laughs, “Yer jus’ gonna have to suffer, Princess.”

“You are absolutely horrible, you know that?” Arella sighs in frustration. “C’mon, Mammon, just go, please. Unlike you, who has the luxury of going out to find a partner when you need to get laid, I can’t for risk that they’ll eat me afterwards so I have to take care of myself when it comes to that.”

“You could always just ask me to help ya...” The demon suggests. “Ever heard of the term ‘friends with benefits’?”

“Huh- Wha- I – Of course, I’ve heard of the term!” She crosses her arms as she huffs. “But friends with benefits only works when both parties don’t run the risk of catching feelings. And you strike me as the type who does.”

“What? No. Couldn’t be me.” The demon rolls his eyes as he looks away, “’sides you’d be doin’ me a favor too and ya can’t tell me that yer not even a little curious about what I’m like in bed. I heard ya this morning. Moanin’ my name and beggin’ me for more.” A smug smirk paints itself on his face as he gets up, approaching her, walking her back until she’s trapped between him and the wall. “Well? Ya got your chance with The Great Mammon now... ya gonna take it or blow it?”

Arella bites her lip as she mulls it over. It wasn’t like he was wrong. She did fantasize about him more than she should for someone who she considers a friend. “Fuck it,” she murmurs as she surges forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss as she pushes him back towards her bed.

If the need wasn’t so urgent, she’d take her time with Mammon, but honestly, going for six months without any chance for release when she was used to being able to have it whenever only made her more desperate to find it now. Her hands traveled all along the demon’s body as she straddled his hips. She let out a soft moan as he shoved his tongue in her mouth and he rolled them over, grinding his hips against hers. He broke their kiss only to trail them down to her neck where he nibbled and sucked little love bites into the delicate skin on her neck.

Arella’s fingers carded through his snowy hair as she panted, head tilting to the side as he moved, his hands coming up work on unbuttoning her unform shirt, tossing it to the side once it was off. He wasn’t so gentle with her bra, choosing to rip it off and toss it away as if the article of clothing had offended him somehow.

“Mammon!” she gasped as she watched it go.

“What? Ya got a hundred more where that came from. If it’s that big a deal I’ll by ya a new one.” the greedy demon growls as he trails his lips down her chest, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking as his fingers pinched and rolled the other one. Every once and a while he would lightly nip at her before circling it with his tongue. Arella would only tug at his hair impatiently signaling him to get on with it as he chuckled. “Here, get these wet for me.”

He prods her lips with his fingers and she takes them in her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around them as he pushed them in further to the point that she was nearly gagging on them as he works on ridding her of her skirt and panties. As they slid down her legs, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to her inner thighs, withdrawing his fingers from her mouth and tracing them down her stomach. He let his warm breath tease for a bit as she tried to rock her hips to spur him to action.

“Impatient, ain’t ya, Baby?” He chuckled, “Just hold still, you’ll get what ya want.”

“If you’d stop teasing, maybe I would,” she pouts, just wanting to feel him where she needed it most.

“As you wish, Princess.” The demon smirks as he spreads her open and licks a stripe from her opening to her clit and she could almost cry at how good it feels when he starts to gently suckle on the sensitive nub.

“Fuuuck, yes, right there,” She gasps at the feeling of his mouth on her and the prodding of one of his long fingers at her opening followed soon by a second. “Don’t stop...”

Her head tips back as she lets a pleasured sigh fall from her mouth, her hand coming down to knot itself in Mammon’s fleecy white hair to push him closer, drawing a moan from the demon. He has her dangerously close to the edge of oblivion without having even done much of anything.

“I’m so close, Baby, keep going.” she rocks her hips to match pace of his fingers before he pulls them away only to replace them with his tongue and she lets out a frantic cry as she feels the wet muscle work its way against her walls while his thumb rubbed tight circles around her clit.

“Don’t hold back. Let me have it.” He growls out as he returns to his ministrations and she absolutely loses it, body going tense as she lets out a strangled moan and she clenches around his tongue as she cries out his name.

The demon cleans her up as he helps her ride out her high before pulling away, making a show of licking his lips as he crawls his way back up her body. He leans down for another kiss and Arella moans at how she can taste herself on his lips and tongue. She used her knee to brush against his crotch listening to the beautiful groan he lets out at the sensation.

“Get those off,” The human says in reference to his sweat pants that now have a large stain of pre covering the front. “You need more or are you good to go right away?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He pushes himself up on his knees and slowly rids himself of his sweat pants allowing his cock to spring up, slapping against his belly.

Her jaw drops at the sight of him. She knew he was big- but damn. He absolutely would tear her apart if they we’re careful- and are those piercings? She can feel her mouth start to water as she looks up at him to see the predatory look in his eyes that were now a shining gold.

“That shut ya up real fast, didn’t it?” He chuckled as he lined himself up. “You ready or do you need a minute?”

“No, I’m fine.” A determined look crossed her eyes. “I’m more than ready.”

“Got a safe word?”

“Just use the traffic light system.” She hooks a leg over his hips to bring him closer. “I want this.”

The stretch she feels as Mammon enters her is as delicious as it is painful even with him taking breaks to let her adjust. Once he’s fully seated, he keeps still as she takes a moment to savor it. With a nod from her, he begins to rock his hips gently, upping his pace as he draws more moans and gasps and the occasional whine from his human. Soon he’s pounding into her as he slips into his demon form.

Her hands are at his back, digging into the skin near the base of his wings and scratching angry red lines down his back. She’s so tight around him that it’s intoxicating to the demon as he lets out a growl. He can feel her next climax is imminent by the way her walls are clenching and gripping him and the breathy pitchy cries of his name- by the way her eyes are nearly rolled back into her head as he pulls her legs up over his hips to hit deeper. The pleasure is overwhelming as his piercings drag along her walls and she cums for the second time that afternoon.

He slows his pace in consideration of the human but he never stops all together. As she starts to squirm from the overstimulation, Mammon holds her still.

“What’s your color, Baby?”

“Green,” Arella looks up at him and pulls him back down by the horns for a tongue filled kiss as he picks his pace back up.

She ran her fingers against the curls of his horns as the demon goes back to biting and sucking on her neck as the only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of their moans, growls, and gasps and the sound of skin slapping against skin. “More! I need more, Mammon. Please.” She has tears slipping down her cheeks from the overstimulation. “It's so good... you’re so big...”

He growls as he hoists her legs up over his shoulders, nearly folding her in half as he thrust into her at a near animalistic pace hitting the deepest part of her as she cried for him. He was getting close to his release as he grasped her hand in his.

“Almost there... so close... Just keep squeezin’ me like that.”

“Me too!” Arella threw her head back, “Fuck, I’m so close. Cum inside.”

“Yer playin’ with fire, Princess. Ya really want that from me?”

“Yes! Yes!” Her grip on his hand tightened as she threw her head back. “Fill me up.”

He groaned as he felt her walls tighten once more as she hit her last release. “Shit... haah... fuck. I’m cumming!” Mammon buries his face in her neck as his thrusts falter. His cock twitches as he fills her with his seed until she’s overflowing with a mixture of their fluids.

They ride out their highs together, letting out soft groans and gasps as the demon pulls her legs down from his shoulders. They stare at each other as they try to catch their breath, wide-eyed, sweaty messes before bursting into a fit a laughter.

“I can’t believe we did that,” He sighs as he leans his forehead against hers.

“That was... amazing...” She sighs, “Best sex I’ve had ever had... I don’t know about you but I need a nap after we shower and change the sheets.”

“Yeah, I second that...” Mammon groans as he pulls out and rolls out of bed. “I’ll start the water; you just pull the sheets off.”

Arella only gave him a thumbs up as she sat up, feeling considerably better than she had before she’d gotten home from school.

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

Find more on my masterlist

[forever-rogue]

Only You (A Good Man)

A/N: Hello my sunshines! I’m back with another little installment of the AGM ‘verse with our favorite Javi and Dulzura! I love them so much and I’m glad y’all do too! This is just some sweetness - enjoy!  As always, comments and feedback are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! Xx

*can be read as a standalone or part of the ‘verse as a whole*

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: language, smut (18+ only!)

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Dulzura?” Javier’s voice sounded concerned as he walked in the door and was immediately greeted by a large sigh from the dining room. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his briefcase by the door, pausing for a moment to reach down and pet Stevie. A quiet slew of curses met his ears as he padded down the hall to find you. 

He paused in the doorway, leaning against it as a small smile crossed his features. You were sitting at the head of the table, papers and fabric samples and flowers all around you. Your hands were threaded in your hair as you stared at everything with an exasperated expression. Even if you hadn’t heard him come in, you easily sensed your fiancé’s presence and looked up to meet his soft brown eyes. Tension seemed to leave your body at the sight of your lover as he strode over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Humming slightly, he looked around at everything that appeared to be the bane of your existence as he realized this was all for the wedding. 

“Hi Javi,” you relaxed ever so slightly as his large, skilled hands massaged your aching shoulders. Biting your lip, it became a herculean task to hold back your moans as he worked on easing the knots that had been plaguing you, “fuck Javi.”

“Normally you save that for-”

“Shut up!” you jokingly groaned as you put your hands on top of his and gave them a small squeeze, “such a cocky bastard.”

“And yet you’re marrying me,” you turned to face him but before you could do anything else, he captured your lips with his in a soft, saccharine kiss. That was definitely the best, and his favorite, way to get you to relax. 

“I’m starting to question that,” you huffed when he pulled back, a confused expression crossing his features. His heart instantly felt like it was about to burst out of his chest as he stared at you; sometimes this still all felt like some sort of fever dream and you weren’t actually real. Like you were a figment of imagination that he used to cope with the reality of everyday life. But then...you were there to welcome him home with open arms every night. You were there, warm, soft, and gentle next to him every morning; sometimes you even woke him with gentle touches and kisses. You were here now, in his hands, literally and metaphorically, the ring on your left hand catching the light perfectly as he grounded himself and forced himself to remember that this was all real. 

You noticed the momentarily distressed look on his face and shook your head, “oh, Javier, no! You know I didn’t mean it like that, my love. If there is one thing in this world I am sure about - it’s you. I just...I don’t know about all of these wedding planning. It’s starting to drive me crazy.”

“I feel like I haven’t helped,” he sighed as you slammed the book of cake photos shut and pushed it away and quickly stood up. Javier wasted no time in wrapping you up in his arms as you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his familiar scent; an instant sense of comfort and relaxation washed over you, “I’m sorry for not being more helpful. I’ll make more of an effort - this isn’t all your job.”

“It’s just...who knew that planning a wedding takes this much time and effort,” you groaned as you thought about all the plans you still needed to finalize and settle. It seemed like a task akin to an odyssey and you weren’t sure if it would ever come together, “all this trouble - and for what? One day of celebration for the people in our lives? To prove to them that we love each other?”

“It’s still months and months away,” the ex-DEA tried his best to reassure you as you just huffed with a bout of sarcastic laughter in his shoulder. He’d been through a lot of shit - seen even more - and yet none of that seemed as daunting as planning a wedding. Needless to say, he hadn’t played a big part in planning his first wedding, the one that had never happened thanks to him. It was all for the best, he’d come to realize over, because all of this had led him to you. He kissed your cheek, “we’ll get it all done.”

“I hope so,” you groaned lightly, deciding to push the thought of more planning out of your head; at least for this evening, “come on baby, let’s go out tonight, what do you say? I want a break from all of this, and I’m sure you’re just as tired.”

“Sounds perfect,” he beamed at you, “how about I take my wife to her favorite restaurant and then a movie?”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” you grinned at him before gently kissing his nose, “only one problem…”

“Oh?”

“I’m not your wife - not quite yet,” you reminded him as he just responded with a hearty laugh, “and who knows when it will be at this rate!”

“Relax, Dulzura,” he whispered as he held you close, “it will happen in time, just as it was meant to, I promise.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Fuck,” you could barely hold back your moan, biting on your bottom lip so hard you were sure it would bleed any moment as Javier buried himself between your legs. He hummed in content as you reached down and hand a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp, “Javier, right there - please.”

“Always taste so good,” he whispered as he pulled back for a moment and kissed along your thigh; you were so close, and he knew exactly what he was doing - getting you closer and closer and then drawing out your orgasm. Sometimes you could kill him for doing so, but tonight it felt just right. He licked up your soaked folders, nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a man starving, “just like fucking candy.”

“Jesus,” your eyes snapped shut as he added in two fingers, curling them just right to find your sweet spot. He moved his free hand to your hips as he tried to keep you still as you writhed under him, “so close, Javi.”

“Then you need to cum for me,” he insisted with a wicked smirk you could feel against your skin, “come on baby.”

“No, no, no,” you tugged lightly on hair, pulling his face away and causing him to look at you in confusion, “want you inside of me - want you to cum in me.”

“Shit,” he made a low, almost visceral sound as he hastily worked to pull off his jeans and threw them into the heap that contained your clothes. You reached for him and brought him up to your lips, kissing him as though your life depended on it, making it a point to leave marks that everyone would see, letting the world know he was yours. He moaned into your mouth as he lined himself up at your entrance before slowly pushing in. His eyes closed as your tight, warmness hugged him perfectly, “fuck, you feel so perfect - always do.”

“I love you,” you whispered softly at him, as he buried his face into your chest, “only you, Javier.”

"I love you, Dulzura," he kissed along your jaw as he set a languid, slow pace, hitting it right with every thrust. You reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him down to your lips and you could practically feel him smiling against you as he worked to pull small moans. And then - it hit him.

"Let's get married tomorrow."

"W-what?" it was somewhere between shock and a moan as Javier rolled his hips in a particularly deep thrust. He pulled back slightly and judging by the look in his soft brown eyes, you could see he meant it. This wasn't just some spur of the moment thing he'd decided on in the throws of passion. 

He slowly switched positions so he was lying on his back and you were on top. The newfound angle made your eyes almost roll back as he stared at you in reverence. His large hands found purchase on your hips as you slowly bounced on his cock. His hips moved in time with yours, "I mean it. Let's just get married - fuck. Want to call you my wife already."

"Javier," you looked down at him with searing intensity before leaning down to kiss him. You could feel him start to twitch within you as your velvety walls started to clamp down on him, "I'm gonna-"

But you didn’t get a chance to say anything else as your orgasm washed over you, and nothing but soft mewls and moans spilled from your lips as you kissed him. Javi was close behind, filling you up with his hot cum, as he pulled you down to body and held you tightly. 

The two of you stayed like that for some, trying to catch your breath and slow your racing heart as he continued to kiss you silly. It was such a tender thing, but so sweet and intimate that you never wanted it to end. 

Once you came down from your high, you pulled back and grinned at him, nuzzling your nose against his before kissing him again. 

“Did you mean it?” you asked him gently as a grin spread across his features and he nodded slowly, “you really want to skip the whole wedding and just go and get married at the city hall?”

“Mhmm,” he promised, “planning a wedding...it’s so much stress and time, and for what? Other people? We already know we love each other and we’re not going anywhere, what does it matter? This is for us.”

“Our families will be pissed,” you laughed as he just scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, “but they’ll get over it. I love you, Javier - and nothing would make me happier than being your wife. Let’s do it.”

“You’re sure?” he put his hand on your cheek as you nodded, “I don’t want you to do this and then regret it. If you want a big wedding, I’ll get you the biggest fucking wedding you could want.”

“I just want you,” you beamed at him, running a hand through his dark curls, “just you. Maybe we can have a big barbecue or something later once it’s all said and done. Besides, the whole thing just seems overrated, you know?”

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as you rolled off of him and stood up, nodding towards the bathroom. He wasted no time getting up, knowing exactly where this was going, “you’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

“Hmm,” you mused thoughtfully before sticking your tongue out at him, “there’s one more thing I want to tell you.”

“Go on…” he quirked an eyebrow before you began pulling him into the bathroom and pointing at the small trash can. He studied it for a moment before realizing what was at the top, “really?”

“Uh huh honey,” you grinned and kissed his cheek as you glanced at the birth control that was placed on top, “we’d talked about it and said after the new year we could...try but not try. And well...I’m ready if you are, Javi.”

“I love you,” he looked back at you with wide, soft brown eyes. The ones you’d loved for what seemed like an eternity now, “fuck...yes. I want this, all of it - with you.”

“Me too,” you grinned back at him, “me too, Javier. You are the best man, and nothing you say or do will ever change that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Baby," Javier poked his head down the hall as he looked at his watch. There wasn't even a time you had to be at city hall or anything but he was...nervous. Gods, he was so nervous. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd ever felt like this before. He hadn't.

"Almost done, Javier," you called back to him as you finished putting your earrings in and turning back to your mirror. You let out a breath as you looked yourself over; your whole body was trembling with anxious energy. But you'd dressed the part and were happy with how you looked - you hoped Javi would like it too, although you could have worn an old potato sack and he would have called you beautiful. A creak from the floorboards caught your attention as you laughed, "no peeking, my love! Its bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!"

"Are you planning on keeping me blindfolded on the drive? Are you going to drive Miss Gets Lost in Our Neighborhood?" you could practically hear the smile in his voice as you sighed dramatically. You finished off your hair before slowly opening the door.

"Close your eyes!" you insisted for just a moment before moving into the hall and stopping in front of him. Reaching over, you slowly grabbed his hand and held it tightly in yours, "alright. You can open!"

And he opened them ever so slowly as soft brown eyes studied you with intense scrutiny.

"Wow," he was almost speechless as a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

"Is it too much?" you asked as your cheeks warmed up, suddenly wondering if you'd made some sort of mistake and gone too far. Javi beamed at your with a fervent shake of his head as he pulled your towards him, lips ghosting over yours as he tried not to mess up your lipstick.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he promised, "I must be the luckiest man in the world."

"Now you're just being dramatic. You clean up pretty well yourself, handsome," you laughed at his praise, but relished in it nonetheless. You'd picked this particular green dress on the whim that he might like it. It had been hanging in your closet for some time, and you'd never had the occasion to wear it before. What better day than your wedding day? He just sighed contentedly as you fixed a few stray hairs and straightened his tie. It was a simple black suit, but gods, he looked handsome as ever and it nearly made your hair stop, “ready?”

"Definitely," he promised as he slipped your hand into his and started to tug you towards the door, "you ready?"

"Almost! Hang on," taking a step back, you smiled as you held up your hands in the shape of a camera and pretended to snap a picture when he laughed, "I'm taking a mental picture - of my husband on our wedding day."

“Husband,” his smile was infectious - brighter than you had ever seen and you swore you fell a little more in love then and there, “I like the sound of that. Come on - let’s get married.”

“You know this doesn’t change anything between us, right?” you asked as he held the door open for you, “I’m still going to love you just as much. It’s just a piece of paper.”

“And yet...it feels right,” he shrugged as you made sure the rings were in his coat pocket as he opened the car door for you. On your seat was a beautiful bouquet of vibrant tulips in your favorite colors. A small sound of surprise left your lips as your eyes immediately stung with tears, “w-what? You don’t like them?”

“I love them,” you took them in your arms and clutched them to your chest, “they’re perfect. I love you - you didn’t need to do this, Javier.”

“I wanted to,” he insisted, with a kiss as he went to the driver’s side, “every bride needs some flowers on her wedding day.”

“Who knew you were such a sappy traditionalist?” you snorted as you climbed in, “big softie.”

“Cállate,” he jokingly shushed as he turned on the car and drove towards city hall. This was it - later this afternoon you’d officially be Javi’s wife - Mrs. Peña. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"And do you, Javier Peña, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Javier grinned at you, his single dimple proudly on display. He slipped the simple golden band onto your finger, snugly next to your engagement ring. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you looked at the matching band on his finger.

"I do," he was confident; in all honesty he had never been this sure about anything else. 

"Then I pronounce you man and wife," the officiant nodded at the two of you before Javi leaned over and kissed you gently. 

It all felt so surreal - like you were going through everything in a daze. Javier's hand was holding onto yours, fingers laced together as you both signed the marriage certificate and received multiple congratulations from random strangers. It seemed like it all went by so fast, a blur as you became husband and wife.

Before you knew it, you were walking out of city hall and clutching onto his arm and giggling at something he said. Before you could get back in the car, Javier let go out of your hand and took a few steps back. You gave him a confused look before quickly realizing what he was doing; he held up his hands as he pretended to take a photo.

"First picture of my wife," his voice almost cracked as he watched you pose and hold up your flowers. He made a small sound in the back of his throat, "perfect."

"Javier," you threw your arms around him and held him tightly against you, burying your face into his neck, "I love you so much."

"I love you, Dulzura," kissing the side of your head, he picked you up and spun you around, "all mine forever."

"I was already yours forever," you promised him, "always - from the start."

"From the start?" he chuckled warmly as you nodded, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his new wedding band, "even when I was your professor?"

"Mhmm," you reached up and cupped his cheek gently, "even back then. First the first moment when I thought- oh no he's hot to when you got mad at me for coming into your office to when you got me the tea."

"Ahh," his hands found purchase on your face as he leaned into you, "back when I was a complete asshole."

"It only lasted for like fifteen minutes," you smiled against his lips, "and I was a goner. I've loved you for a long time, Javier, when I didn't realize it."

"Shit," closing his eyes, he gently pressed his lips against yours, "and to think I felt guilty about thinking you were beautiful when I first saw you."

"You did?!"

"Uh huh honey," he repeated your favorite phrase softly, "I couldn't get you off my mind for...well since then. Nothing's changed. I loved you then and still do. It was easy I think, to fall in love with you - it just happened."

"I love you," you whispered before pulling him in for a long saccharine kiss, "so much, Javier. You are everything. You have made me the happiest woman in the world."

"I love you," he repeated softly, his hands on both sides of your face as he studied you,  "mi alma, mi vida -  my wife."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[moonbeamwritings]

annoyances and nosebleeds

Summary: In which you really hate Tōru Oikawa (or, more accurately, the time you realized that may not be entirely true).

A/N: this is my first haikyuu fic, so pls be very gentle with me! let me know what you think!

If there was one thing you knew with utmost certainty, it was that Tōru Oikawa was the single most annoying person you’d ever met. 

Not only did his gaggle of fangirls make you late for class at least once a week, blocking nearly the entire hallway as they giggled and whispered among themselves about who was giving Oikawa a present this time, but the boy himself was arguably more obnoxious— if that was even humanly possible.

He was aggravating and smug, always teasing you about his higher grades and poking and prodding at you for being single. So what if maybe, sometimes— on very rare occasions— you found his smile kinda cute in a “I want to punch him in the face” sort of way? You hated him and no amount of charm was ever going to solve that.

Right?

Your heart raced as your teacher worked through the list of partnerships for an upcoming project, leg bouncing restless as you waited, breath caught in your throat. As you heard your name being called, you prayed to whoever would listen that you wouldn’t end up with him.

Across the room, Oikawa was working through a similar internal monologue. He hated you in equal measure, that much was true. He hated your stick-in-the-mud attitude and the way you rubbed your grades in his face. He hated the way you glared at him and his fangirls in the hallways or the way you made a point of congratulating Iwa-chan on volleyball wins, but refused to do the same for him. 

He hated the confident lilt in your voice when you contributed something in class and the bright, almost blinding, light of your smile as you laughed with your friends at lunch. Well, maybe ignore that last part. Oikawa hated you. Plain and simple.

“... you will be working with Oikawa.”

Oikawa heard Iwaizumi and Makki snickering at the news, sending him teasing glances as they joked about his bad luck. Oh, if looks could kill.

Meanwhile, you’d decided that today, and the next two weeks where you’d be subjected to Oikawa’s company, was about to be the lowest point of your life. You couldn’t wait.

The moment the bell rang, signaling the end of an incredibly long day, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Oikawa sauntered over to your desk, teasing smirk already on his face.

This was gonna be good.

“It seems the tides of fate have blessed us both, hmm.” The way he spoke your name, tacking on a sarcastic honorific as he put on a front of sweetness, made your stomach churn.

“Trust me, Oikawa,” you bit back, closing your notebooks as you packed your things, “I don’t like this anymore than you do.”

He pouted, planting his hands on either side of your desk, leaning down to invade your line of vision, “I don’t know. I think you do. You are secretly in love with me, after all.” 

He watched in amusement as your face contorted in disgust, “and lest we forget I am smarter than you.”

“Bold words from someone who took a volleyball to the face last week.” You refused to look at him, shoving the rest of your things in your bag in an attempt to make this conversation as short as possible.

Your words only seemed to spur him on though. You could practically hear the way he was smirking, the bastard. “Hey, I thought you said you don’t come to our practices with all of my… hmmm, what did you call them again? Fangirls, was it?”

As you zipped your bag, he leaned over again, this time successfully getting you to look at him, “Are you a fangirl?”

With a huff, you stood from your seat, brushing your shoulder against Oikawa’s as you moved towards the classroom door. “I would rather keel over and die, Oikawa. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He caught up with you quickly, falling into stride with you as he shot a hand up to grip at his chest, “You wound me. I don’t think I can possibly go on.”

“Good,” you spoke resolutely. “Listen, I don’t want to talk to you any longer than I have to, so let’s make this as painless as possible. Just meet me in the library when you get out of practice.”

Without so much as a backward glance, you clicked your locker shut and ventured off, completely ignoring the mocking words Oikawa threw your way, whining about how he could really feel the love from where he was standing. Asshole.

The first meeting went about as well as you’d expected, with Oikawa arriving well after when you knew volleyball ended, seemingly more interested in making you suffer than he was in actually getting work done.

“Will you quit it? I’m not carrying this whole thing because you’re too lazy to do anything.”

He had his head resting in his palm, eyes memorizing the little crease between your brows as you got more angry. He wasn’t really listening to you and you could tell.

Sighing, you pressed two fingers against the inner corners of your eyes. “I hate you. Have I told you that yet today?”

“You might’ve once or twice. Or a hundred times. I’ve started to lose count,” he replied with a playful smile.

The next few meetings carried on much the same. You met with Oikawa after volleyball practice, you would get about an hour of work done before he began picking on you again, doodling on your papers or teasing you about being in love with him, and then you’d go home and complain about him to your friends.

Your life fell into an incredibly mundane cycle— go to school, meet with Oikawa, go home, and do homework— day in and day out. Until one particularly bad day sent you reeling, in more ways than one. You’d woken up late, forgotten an assignment, failed a test, and that was only the beginning of a very long list of grievances. It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d been feeling the academic pressure for weeks; as if you had a storm cloud looming over you, invading your mind and making it harder and harder to work on your homework. You knew what needed to be done, but it never seemed like it was good enough, especially not today.

So, as you sat and waited for Oikawa’s practice to end, you allowed yourself to cry. Dark clouds usually meant rain, didn’t they? Hot, wet tears cascaded down your cheeks, slipping off your chin only to splatter across your papers, smearing the ink as they went. Furiously, you attempted to stop the flow, wiping tear after tear away until you finally resigned yourself to the pathetic mental image of what you must look like— alone, crying in some back corner of the library as you tried to muffle the hiccups that threatened to spill from your mouth.

In your flurry of emotions, you failed to hear the muffled thud of sneakers along the carpet.

“Hey,” a gentle voice called out, “you okay?”

Oikawa.

Bile slipped up the back of your throat at the idea of being caught by him, the sound of his voice nearly reinvigorating your tears as humiliation burned your skin. Barely able to muster the courage to speak, you simply nodded your head, wiping the remaining tears with the soft sleeve of your sweater.

Picking up your pen and completely ignoring the uneven sound of your voice, you began taking notes again. “Let’s just get to work.”

Oikawa was quick to sink into the seat across from you, mind reeling at what he’d just seen. His mouth fell open as he watched you, eyes still glassy, as your pen glided across your notebook.

You had just been crying. You didn’t really expect him to just carry on with the project, to just ignore the distress he’d walked in on, did you?

He gave you a hard time, pushing your buttons and making fun of you, but all along he’d assumed it was little more than hatred— physical and verbal manifestations of how frustrated he was that you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Now, with concern gripping at his chest after having seen you fall apart, he wasn’t quite sure what to think anymore.

“You’re not really about to act like nothing happened, are you?” A mirthless chuckle sounding from his throat, a tentative hand reaching out to stop your pen. “I know you think I’m an idiot, but this is downright insulting.”

“What do you want me to say, Oikawa? Don’t act like you’re some knight in shining armor after all this time.

Ow.

“I’m not heartless. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His words were short, leaving absolutely no room for debate. It was now or never.

“I’ve just felt a lot of academic pressure recently, that’s all.”

Oikawa nodded along and for once in his life, seemed to be genuinely listening to you. His hand hadn’t left yours.

“And?” He urged you to continue, leaning in slightly to take in your words.

“It’s just been a lot. I get good grades, sure, but it never seems good enough.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened, your words sounding all too familiar. He’d had these exact conversations with himself as he sat in front of his TV, watching volleyball footage over and over again. He was good, but there was always someone better. He knew how exhausting that could be, knew— too well — that nagging feeling of worthlessness despite hard work.

Maybe you weren’t so different after all.

“I feel like that sometimes too,” a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it squeeze of your hand, “maybe we can learn together.”

You didn’t respond, you weren’t sure you could. It was as if the entire image of Oikawa you’d crafted was crumbling, fragments of hatred tumbling to the sides to reveal, what you could only assume was the real him. And in this moment, though you’d never admit it, you were grateful.

You nodded, “I think I’d like that.”

Oikawa had to bite back a jest, some ridiculous passing comment about how he knew that you’d been in love with him all along, but he didn’t in favor of savoring the gentle smile you’d graced him with.

The rest of your little meetings were amenable and your encounters in the school hallways even more so. It wasn’t a complete 180, but it was definitely noticeable.

Your friends caught on to the shy smile on your face after Oikawa shot a wave in your direction and practically the entire volleyball team had seen Oikawa blush after he’d seen you at lunch one day. And both groups were going to get to the bottom of it if it killed them.

“You were at each other’s throats literally just last week,” your friend groaned, sending pieces of popcorn across the table and into your hair. “What the hell happened?”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” your other friend piped in. “You actually considered going to volleyball practice the other day. You’ve never gone willingly.”

“And, you actually smiled at him in the hallway!”

You brought your voice down to a whisper, not wanting to be overheard talking about something so stupid, “I don’t like Oikawa. He’s annoying and full of himself. You guys are seeing things.”

They were unconvinced.

Oikawa hadn’t been faring much better.

“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi smirked, “you sure changed your tune.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “What’re you talking about?”

Iwaizumi pitched his voice up, a poor rendition of his best friend, “I can’t stand them Iwa-can~ How am I ever going to survive?” He dropped the act seconds later, elbowing the other player in the ribs, “Meanwhile you actually seem to enjoy doing this project with them.”

Makki and Mattsun laughed along before Mattsun interjected, “Don’t forget the blush!”

“Oh,” Makki howled, “how could we forget? He looked like a pink highlighter.”

All Oikawa could do was huff. “I don’t like them.”

And boy was he wrong.

With the project coming to an end, Oikawa laid awake, staring at his ceiling as he thought about how exactly he’d spend his time now that you weren’t meeting with him in the library every afternoon. Would you keep hanging out? Would you come to his games? What if you stopped smiling at him in school, returning to the bitter back-and-forths that had been so common before?

Oikawa shot up in bed, chest heaving and eyes wide. He liked you.

Oh no.

Across town, cuddled under the comforter in your own bedroom, you thought about Oikawa— as you had been most nights since you became partners. As your mind wandered, you realized that by now, you’d memorized the color of his eyes and that you could decipher exactly which of his smiles were genuine and which weren’t. You smiled as you thought about the feeling of your hand in his, about how warm his skin had felt against your own.

Your heart was in your throat. You were heading down a point of no return, one in which only humiliation awaited you. You liked Tōru Oikawa.

How cruel.

On your walk to school the following day, you’d decided that avoiding him would be the easiest option from here on out. The project was done and you were saving yourself the embarrassment of falling for someone who clearly would never be interested. You’d convinced yourself that day in the library had been a fluke, a trick of the light. He didn’t like you.

You ducked out of sight when he was about to pass in the halls, you pointedly looked elsewhere during class— whatever you could to suppress whatever feelings you had for him. All the while blissfully unaware of the effect you were having on the setter.

He knew this would happen, knew that the moment the project was submitted you’d begin to act differently, but he hadn’t thought you’d ignore him entirely. He almost missed the biting tone of voice you used whenever you scolded him, at least then you were looking at him, speaking to him.

He’d been so out of focus that during practice he’d taken one of Iwaizumi’s spikes directly to the face, sending blood dribbling down from his nose.

“Go take a walk,” Iwaizumi demanded, waving a hand in the direction of the door. “You’re no good if you’re just gonna stand there like a love-sick puppy.”

Sighing in defeat, Oikawa headed off, pinching the bridge of his nose as he went. His feet carried him along the tile, looping through hallways until he found himself outside of the library. You wouldn’t be in there, right? You didn’t really have any reason to be, not anymore.

Whatever.

Body on autopilot, he followed the familiar path, counting stacks as he walked along the main aisle. Rounding the final corner and expecting to be disappointed, he pinched his nose harder.

You let out a squeak at the sight of Oikawa, supposedly in the midst of volleyball practice, emerging from the stacks like a zombie, nose bloodied, face red and shiny with sweat.

“What are you-”

“I like you. A lot.” He had no idea where the words came from, but he wasn’t about to take them back now.

“Ha ha, very funny. You haven’t used that one before.”

A look crossed Oikawa’s face— one you hadn’t seen since the day he’d caught you crying.

Sincerity.

Your stomach flipped, “You’re not joking.”

He shook his head, using the back of his hand to wipe away the blood that was still steadily trickling from his nose.

Oh.

“I like you too.”

A smirk crossed Oikawa’s face, a joking lilt taking over his serious tone, “I knew it.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, bringing a hand up to rub your thumb against his cheekbone. It was sticky with sweat, but it was either that or landing a kiss to his lips and interrupting his nosebleed. Gross.

“Wanna meet me back here after practice?”

“God, yes.”

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt. 7)

(Hybrid au) (YoonMinJoon x Reader) (Mafia au) 

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers, hidden in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks, but he only has until the end of the summer. 

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok, 

Genre: Hybrid au, Polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy, Mafia au

Tags:  Domestic abuse, references to sexual abuse- and choosing to have sex even though you’ve been through sa, physical abuse, polyamory negotiations, Post-traumatic stress disorder, mute characters, brief gore at the end, pregnant m/c, frottage, marking kink, fingering, oral f. receiving, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied death but dont worry I do not write MCD!!!!

A/n: just for posterity's sake! i was drunk when i posted this! enjoy! full gangbang comes in (y/n) next chapter! (oh god im going to hell).

W/c: 10.5k

Song Rec: Like Real People do ~ Hozier

~ Series Masterlist ~

2 Years Earlier

-  If Jeon Jungkook where so esoterically inclined, he would write a book on how he had become the most dangerous man in the underworld. It would be a short book though; because Jungkook had only 2 rules for himself. The first was to always get up after he’d been hit during a fight (even if it took him a second) and the second was to know when to mind his own business. 

- Jungkook was always able to get up after being hit, Even when he’d been a street kid, with not a penny to his name and a whole lot of anger in his mouth. ready to spit vitriol at anyone who would pause and listen. He’d always been able to get up. The pain giving him a kind of sick clarity that he eventually sought out instead of tried to escape. Jungkook could never think as clearly as he did during a fight; or when he was in pain. And that was probably because of his father. 

- But whatever. That man was 6 feet under, (his mother on the other hand- no- that bitch certainly had more than one dept to pay still). He didn’t have a lot of time or energy to put into dealing with that particular trauma (why he honestly felt like sometimes- he liked being hit). Most of his energy went into staying alive. Even now- when living and surviving teetered on the same edge. Jungkook had more pressing matters to tend to than dealing with his own fragile mind. 

- The way he would get up and hop around for a second to soak in the clarity after being hit during a scuffle was one of the reasons why he’d been given his street name: The Playboy Bunny; further set in stone with his tattoo of the same moniker under his left eye. A cheekbone he’d tap and say “you want to hit me? why don’t you try your luck and see how well it turns out for you.” 

- He was doing reconnaissance, Sneaking around the back alley with his hood up and his glasses on- disguising his black eye that was sure to get more than a few looks from passers-by. The ears of the playboy bunny tattoo peeking out over the top of his mask. 

- He keeps his eyes on the crowd waiting for some sort of handoff- to see anything at all. But he’d lost his target through the crowd and has no drive to find them in the dizzying rush of people and umbrellas. Not yet. Not when the hum of addiction lurks in his veins. 

- Jungkook pauses lighting a cigarette, when a commotion to the side hidden around a corner- blurs his concentration. The world snapping back into focus when he sinks his fingernails into his palm. Terse voices. A couple fighting in the alleyway perpendicular to his. 

- Minding his own business was a particular skill of his- it took one kind of person to know when to step in, and another to know which problems weren't worth the headache. And unless it involved the acquisition money or some step therein, it wasn’t a problem worth getting into in Jungkook’s opinion.

- But Jungkook can’t stop his ears from hearing snippets of conversation, a low and angry male voice. The sound of a smack. “You just had to embarrass me like that, didn’t you? First, you come out dressed like a slob and then you act like a fucking whore- I swear if I see you give eyes to another man this week I'll beat you five ways to Sunday”

- The sound of a soft female voice, so quiet- almost indistinguishable from the pouring rain, “I wasn’t-” another smack.

- Jungkook has been hit so many times he knows the sound of it, the ragged gasp the woman lets out, also quite- like even the pain takes up too much space. 

- His body starts to move before his mind thinks it through as he gives up position in favor of investigating the noise. There he sees it, ivy growing up the wall next to the back exit of some restaurant. A woman, small crouching in front of a grotesque man. A baggy coat buttoned tight around her small form. hair swept back in a tight bun. Red lipstick smudged. Though you check your hands and think its blood for a moment before you remember you’re wearing it. 

- Jungkook waits for a moment before he watches you stand on shaky legs. you get up. 

- The rest of the underworld might be old grudges and blood feuds but Jungkook was only here to be a businessman. He didn’t have time for ego and arrogance, let alone time for altruism... 

- Usually. 

- He looks on for a moment, too sluggish without nicotine, but Jungkook’s lingering stare almost seems to spur the man on. He’s wearing a jacket with a military patch, a badge; some sort of congratulation for service done no doubt. and Jungkook feels his distaste for the man deepen. 

- “What you looking at punk?” he slurs. Stalking forward as if to shove Jungkook. He almost wants to tut- that would be an expensive action. Jungkook wonders if the man is maybe high or drunk or both. He’s has had his fair share of experience with junkies and he knows one when he sees one. 

- “Nothing, just a pig beating his girlfriend.” The man settles for shoving Jungkook back. And Jungkook lets him. You don’t look up, don’t do anything but lean to the side, like the brick wall is the only thing keeping you up. Jungkook sees the back of your hand, black and blue, the other bruises on your neck. You only make eye contact with him once. Just slightly. Barely in passing.  

- You look like Jungkook used to look. He remembers in the savage bite of an open-handed slap- the fear he sees in your eyes. He looks and looks. And it aches so viscerally as Jungkook watches you go, your hurt echoes through him. You look beaten down and broken like Jungkook used too; before he’d decided he was done taking punches from people who were supposed to love him- Were supposed to care. 

- (Before he realized life wasn't supposed to hurt) 

- He’s never been one to feel things for other people, the empathy sparing him through most of the suffering he’s seen. It’s not that he’s unfeeling; it’s just that Jungkook’s life has forced him to feel concerned only for himself and no one else. His own survival is his first priority; Not others. 

- He watches you walk away, And you don’t look back at him. Rushing to keep up with your husband's steps. He waits until you disappear into the crowd before he lifts his phone to his ear and makes a call. “Hey, I need you to flag all of the cars that leave the parking lot, they’re just a couple, should be coming to you soon.”

- Jeon Jungkook had become the most powerful man in the underworld because of two reasons; by being able to take punches, and by knowing when to mind his own business. 

- But For this, Jungkook thinks he can make an exception.

- (You won't remember meeting Jeon Jungkook, but Jungkook will always remember you).

~.~

Now

-It comes as no surprise that your little speech fades after a few days and the rest of the hybrids quick to return to treating Yoongi with a mix of disdain and fear. Though mostly- this seems to be caused by Minhyung's group and the other canine hybrids. Namjoon hears them whispering about ‘favoritism’ before they catch on that he’s listening in. And in the days following your impromptu departure from the farm, you find people quiet even further whenever Yoongi's brought up. Staring when Yoongi comes close, afraid to interact with him.

- Even Jimin is greeted mostly with silence from all but a few. The bunny hybrids don’t act so skittish anymore, and the cat hybrids could care less used to sticking to their own group. Taehyung seems to have encouraged the other bear hybrids to make an actual effort and they at least say hello now. It’s better than the derisive comments of the dog hybrids, or the snooty noses stuck high in the air of the dear hybrids and other exotic breeds. 

- They know Jimin is close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and now he feels even more like an outsider that before (somehow it doesn't matter as much as before). The only ones who don’t act overtly different are the new hybrids; Hoseok and the small lion hybrid. but They were never around to learn how to hate Yoongi in the first place.

- it's a little cute- the way that Hoseok will always shout Yoongi's name in greeting (though you're unsure if that's just his personality now that he's started to grow into himself). Hoseok is unbothered by Yoongi's reaction; to shy away from anything that will draw more attention to himself. But Hoseok's smile is so bright and elastic that even he has a hard time ignoring the otter hybrid. You hope there will be a friendship there eventually, that yoongi will open up to more than just your group. 

- The little lion kit is a new addition too, she's not the only young feline hybrid you have at the farm but she is the friendliest. She gets pretty close to the other cats that work in the kitchen almost instantly. Probably on account of her young age (she's barely 7) and the eldest cat hybrid seems to be particularly fond of the little one.

- She's curious and kind to Yoongi too- excitedly running up to him more than once to show him a little rock or some flower she found- and yoongi will marvel and nod, and if Jimin is near- he'll lean close and tell her how pretty it is. 

- She doesn't seem at all deterred by Yoongi's lack of voice. one day she even sees Jimin, her ears perking up excitedly, tail swishing. "Hello Yoonies voice!" it's a little cute- even if it does make yoongi splutter a little. But she's not exactly wrong; Jimin does talk for yoongi more these days. 

- She Always comes bounding up to you and giggling happily to be picked up. Her little legs stretching around your waist, small bottom sat atop your baby bump. Making you get the kind of look that makes Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin sigh and look impossibly fond. They can only imagine what you’re going to be like once your little one is born. Your due date is barely 2 months away.

- In truth- you’re starting to get a little bit big. You say it one morning with Namjoon. After he asks you why you’re looking into the mirror with such a displeased expression. The sound of your terse voices alerts Yoongi and he comes to the door to your bedroom to witness your spat. Making a flippant hand movement at Namjoon to back off. Namjoon could smell your distress on you when you looked in the mirror, his voice tense but breaking. “Baby just tell me, why you think you’re not beautiful like that? let me understand. Cuz to me- you look more irresistible every day.”

- It’s not that you exactly wanted him to agree with you that you were nearing the size of a whale- but this doesn’t help at all either. His unending insistence- doesn’t he see? when he looks in the mirror doesn’t he see what you do? His instance that everything is alright doesn't help when you’re feeling this self-conscious.

- Yoongi helps you, fiddling with Namjoon’s closet for a second before he pulls out an extra-large white shirt of his and helps you into it- tying it loosely over your baby bump so that it flatters your waist a little more. The attention that Yoongi shows you clearly making you flustered. Then he drags you to the mirror, tugging your hair out of its bun, the tension going out of your shoulders.

- Yoongi doesn’t know it, but Namjoon does. Your late husband used to always be so particular about your hair, yanking on it harshly if it was left down. and An easy way to avoid him yanking on it was to leave it up. And sometimes you still pull it up convinced it’s safer even though he’s dead and gone. It’s scary how simple it is- but the second your hair comes down your whole body relaxes.

- All the while Namjoon watches from your bed. And you take in yourself, the baby hairs free-floating against your forehead; Yoongi curls one gently around his finger and then lets it go. You take in the way that the fabric hangs now, making you look a little more proportional, Yoongi gives you a satisfied smile behind your back and you have to sigh and admit it. “Okay- okay- I’ll give you this- I’m not a whale”

- “And even if you where you’d be a pretty whale.” Yoongi has the good sense to hurl a pillow in Namjoon’s direction, but it makes you laugh all the same- the heaviness in your chest abated a little. Your sleeve brushing Yoongi’s as you head downstairs, Namjoon trailing behind.

- The beach trip was a nice distraction from chores but the real work comes crashing down on them the next few days. Your little group feels closer than ever, you rarely part from any of them for long and their intention, their little acts of care never fail to make you feel flustered and taken care of.

- Jimin always holds out a hand for you to take when you’re stepping over uneven ground, Yoongi makes a startled noise whenever you so much as get close to a hose that might trip you, always gesturing for you to pause and take a break whenever you’re working in the garden. Namjoon too, always running back and forth from whatever project he’s working on to check on you and make sure you have water or food.

- At night, Namjoon takes your stretch mark cream from you, rubbing down your baby bump and your hips, the little lines of lighter skin on your waist get little kisses from him.  

- Even if you want just a snack, Namjoon and Yoongi will bring you a full meal- convinced that you need to be eating more than you are. At dinner Yoongi fills up your plate- piling it high with more food then you could fit in your already crowded tummy. And he always eyes you suspiciously when you can’t finish the full plate. Namjoon too will level you with a look- asking if you really are full. 

- Since your pregnancy has progressed, you’ve become a little moodier, and a little hornier whenever way the wind blows. And Namjoon doesn’t help that much at all- and by that you mean, he makes it worse. When he comes out of the field with his shirt off and tucked into his shorts all of his thickness, his muscles that make you ravenous. 

- During lunch one day he drags you away to a forgotten tool shed, though it would be easier just to go up the hill to your bedroom- you feel like teenagers sneaking around like this. 

- Namjoon presses into you as he hits the latch on the door, muffling your giggles with kisses as you hide from the hybrids outside, voices that you can dimly hear, unable to pick out any one particular yet- but you know they're there. 

- You and Namjoon might bicker like an old married couple. But you also act like teenagers gooey and giggly and so so so in love. “Do you think that they can hear you like this? Or smell you, my love?” Namjoon is always quick to tell you how delectable you smell when you’re horny. His more sensitive nose-picking it up the second you feel a slickening between your thighs.

- You’re shaky when you respond. “I don’t know, maybe?” Namjoon always has this passionate intense air about him. He’s slightly possessive- but you’d never fault him for that not when it’s all about protecting and providing for you. Not when he always puts your pleasure first (you feel like you may have turned into a slight pillow princess with him). 

- Namjoon heaves you up onto the edge of a bench and then gets on his knees. Gently lifting your leg over his shoulder. He’s always mindful of how much you can move in your swollen state. He checks to make sure he’s not bending your hips in an uncomfortable way. 

- You put your hands back on the dusty bench to stabilize yourself as you lie back, Namjoon wastes no time in pressing his face close to your cunt and inhaling, His nose prodding at the thin fabric of your underwear. One of his ears caught on the hem of your dress. His fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs- so full and healthy it makes him hard in his pants. 

- He’s slow with the appreciation of your thighs and hips. Hands gripping and moving on to touch and feel like you have all the time in the world. But you hear voices outside the tool shed you’ve commandeered and you could just slip out and go back up to your house- but somehow you like this better. The thought of being discovered stirring an unsure heat in your stomach. 

- You can hear Taehyung's voice, and then- like a shock through your core- you hear Jimin’s. Namjoon can feel your jolt. And you realize- his sensitive ears must have known who it was before your own human ones did. He chuckles- teasing his fingers along the hem of your underwear, almost daring to slip inside.

- You almost whine when you think about what you’re being denied- the harsh pull of his fingers that you’re so addicted too, how thick his fingers and knuckles feel (almost as nice as his cock) when they pull out and push in.

- Yoongi and Namjoon have always had the most lovely hands, it’s strange that when Namjoon touches you- you think about Yoongi’s hands. The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. "you're thinking about them aren't you," The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. Because yeah; Yoongi and Jimin are apart of Namjoon’s pack too, and bonding and group sex are kind of the same thing to hybrids. You’d found that out the hard way when you’d found a group of cat hybrids all tangled together in the grass the other day.

- Namjoon is always so gentle with you because of your condition, but you find your hips jerking with want. His fingers still when he feels the way your wetness has spilled out the sides. His thumb pressed over your clit teasingly. “smell so good when you're like this So wet my love, are you thinking about them finding you like this?” 

- “Y-yes” you confess, and Namjoon growls, nipping at you through the fabric, the feel of his teeth brushing you, over the sensitive skin. The fabric cushioning the feeling, makes you almost gush, and you know you’ll be shakily legged by the time he lets you get down. And that he won’t let you get away from him until he’s taken care of you in this way, sated you in every sense of the word. 

- But he can also tell how shy you are, the heat under your skin at the thought of being discovered. always unsure how much of your dirty talk is a real want and not just something you like in theory. Namjoon knows the idea of sharing you with the others might seem like the most natural and hottest thing; to love you alongside them. but to you- a human, hybrid sex and hybrid bedroom dynamics aren't as given. 

- So he leans close, sliding your underwear down your legs slowly, letting you feel the heat of his palms on your skin. You're getting worked up a little too quickly, your heaving breaths needy. God damn pregnancy hormones you'd say if you could think beyond the plush feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to your clit. “Gotta clean you up for them, if they smelled you like this- then they’d know wouldn’t they?” 

- You prove Namjoons initial assumption wrong. “What if I-” you whisper- gasping quietly as Namjoon drags the fabric to the side and glides a delicate lick over your folds. “What if I want them to know?” the pleasure thrumming through your body as Namjoon licks up your slit. Namjoon stills, ears perked, eyes flashing in the half-light. The snarl against your cunt loud and echoic.

- The voices outside fall silent and Namjoon doesn't stop his ravenous licking no matter if you have to bite your lip to keep your noises in. One of your hands scrambling to pull at his hair and find something to grip onto and anchor yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. Jimin is the first one to puncture the silence, “What was that?” 

- Then comes Seokjin's voice “all of you- move along- whoever it is they probably don’t want the three of you listening in like a bunch of horn dogs” which is basically a confirmation that they were listening in, and that Yoongi was there too. 

- When you finally exit the toolshed with weak legs, sure you’re going to have to at least got change your underwear. You find a bleary-eyed Seokjin a few dozen feet away, obviously upwind of the toolshed. he levels Namjoon with a tired expression. “You both have dirt on your knees” Namjoon has the good sense to look shy at that. You hastily brush off the spots on his, and he on yours.

- If Jimin and Yoongi smell anything on you later- they don’t say anything and the idea that they might make you feel hot all over whenever they lean in too close. You think you see a blush on Yoongi’s face more than once, and maybe see him adjust his pants out of the corner of your eye, but Jimin seems blissfully unaware.

- You have a check-up at the doctor’s office in the coming days. And although only Namjoon is allowed in the room with you (they have a two-person maximum because the ultrasound room is tiny), Yoongi and Jimin also accompany you. Namjoon comes bounding out after, waving the picture and smiling so so wide, both Yoongi and jimin leaning in close to get a better look- they’re so enamored with the little photo. And when you get home- Namjoon shows anyone that asks how the check-up went, eventually hanging it on one of the two fridges in the kitchen.

- Jimin is the only one who seems to notice the jealous looks- because you went out for ice-cream after and come home with them still partially melting (you’d had another craving- french-fries dunked in ice cream of all things). One of the other hybrids having heard Jimin talk to Tae about the beach trip too. They come to you at the end of the day, 2 bunnies, a cat, a fox and one of the bears- a mish moshed group of hybrids; petitioning you to start the beach trips for everyone.

- You can only fit so many people into the back of your truck so you pick a day and start a raffle for spots. Jimin throws his name into the hat just in case but to his surprise, Yoongi doesn’t. No matter how much Jimin bugs him too; He won’t agree to accompany Jimin to the beach again. Shaking his head with a roll of his eyes back tipped back against the grass, his sunhat crumpled. Offering up a few sweet tomatoes to soothe Jimin’s sour nerves. 

- The peace lasts for a couple of days before they’re right back to treating Yoongi like shit and for some reason, it pisses Jimin off more. No matter how many times he’s heard Namjoon asks Yoongi to please tell him when anything happens. The snake hybrid seems unable to fight back.

- Jimin asks one of the hybrids why she won’t look at Yoongi (after the snake has already gone up the hill to retrieve another dish for dinner) and beyond a startled look, she just says “none of us can smell him” she throws a stack of paper towels down onto the table angrily. The deer hybrid across from them stumbling with their silver wear But she doesn’t need to re-iterate herself. Jimin understands- it’s hard to trust someone who can lie to your face- and in the world of hybrids where emotions can be decreed from a simple sniff, Jimin can’t say he doesn’t see where they’re coming from.

- Doesn’t excuse their behavior, however. After all- Jimin can smell Yoongi’s emotions through his scent and he didn't realize that was something strange until now. To Jimin, Yoongi’s scent is soft and sweet- something gummy and soft like a marshmallow. But that’s probably because he spends so much time with the hybrid. The others only spend so much time around him and are unused to his scent. And the fact that he never talks and never tries to socialize doesn’t help.

- Jimin can’t imagine not wanting to smell more of it- not leaning in whenever the other hybrid passes. Jimin wants to bury his face in Yoongi’s neck and rub his cheek all over it. The same way that Namjoon does to him in the morning if he shows up before he’s changed from his pajamas. And he knows he smells soft like sleep- an alluring smell to the older alpha when he comes down the stairs, ears straight up eyes wide as he takes in all of Jimin's vulnerability.

- and it might have to do with what Taehyung had said- that alphas eat up that sort of thing. 

- Namjoon smells good too, his scent all soft mornings and sleepy walks, the older hybrid large and so pliant in his sleepiness, eyes swollen and face puffy as he hides in Jimin’s shoulder. Sending his pine scent all over so that it sticks to jimin no matter where he is. So that jimin will smell like Namjoon all day. 

- One of the cat hybrids at the sink rolls her eyes. But when you come down the stairs smelling much the same. You touch his arm so softly in passing, like you can’t believe you’re allowed. And Jimin’s senses are a dizzying blur of cream, peaches, pine, and marshmallow. 

- when he goes back to the barns, hazy at being scented by Namjoon so thoroughly. Taehyung levels him with a funny look and a chuckle. "you're more devious than anyone gives you credit for" thought Taehyung means it good-naturedly- it's good to have a friend to ask how to go about flirting with. the other hybrids gathered on the couch in front of the tv; some cartoon playing- pretend like they're not listening in. 

- "How do you know so much when you don't have a pack of your own Tae?" he asks over breakfast, the two of them clutching breakfast burritos on their way to check Tae's bees. Tae doesn't meet Jimin's eyes "you're just lucky- most hybrids dont find a pack so easily Jimin" his words aren’t jealous- only a little patronizing. And Jimin accepts it because he knows he has a lot to learn.

- Taehyung is right- out of all of the hybrids at the farm, there are only a few who have paired up or even made stronger groups or multi-person packs. the bunnies and the cats don't form set generally- though there are a few pairs and more than a few throuples.

- Jimin as caught Yeonjun making out with a tabby more than once- has learned to avoid certain sections of the woods all together because everyone knows that's where the bunny hybrids like to go in the afternoons. The canine hybrids are the only ones who have packs, though there are more than half a dozen loners like jimin and namjoon.

- It's hard for Jimin to cohabitate with them even though there are other larger predators and more than a few prey hybrids living in Jimin's barn. he hadn’t really realized until taehyung pointed it out that each different pack occupied one corner of the punk room. More than once- the room in the barns has felt hostile if only for the packs that have claimed either corner of the bunkroom. it's usual to wake up and find more than one of the pups cuddling with another in one single bed. 

- Having reciprocated love in his pack shouldn't feel like an impossibility to Jimin. But still, when Yoongi steps close- an inch too far away, his fingertips barely brushing- Jimin just- yearns. It’s a soft sort of yearning, the kind that has jimin jumping up whenever Yoongi needs something. Has him settling a think knit blanket over Yoongi’s nobly knees during movie nights, and sticking his own feet underneath the edge of the blanket. Feet Pressed to the clothed line of his calf. Maybe nothing will ever come of it, But Jimin yearns with everything he’s got regardless.

- In the late hours of the night, when Jimin lies awake thinking about the three of you. An instinct welling inside of him that says he should walk up the hill and fall asleep on your couch just to be closer to you three (the pack instinct- Taehyung calls it, looking a little bit sad himself when jimin asks him, the other hybrid moving away before jimin can ask exactly what that means) Jimin wonders if his feelings will ever be reciprocated.

- But love is a strange thing, it’s not just about saying it with kisses or touches- though Jimin wants them too. There is love in the small things, in building something together so that’s what Jimin tries to do. Every day- he takes to gardening with a new vigor. Shouting in joy when you harvest some of the tomatoes- filling up a whole gallon bucket with the amount that have ripened over the last week. Your peppers and cucumbers are beginning to produce more too.

- Jimin and Yoongi run to Namjoon just to give him a handful. The alpha gives each of them a sweet nuzzle in thanks, even if Yoongi chirps and moves back after a moment. A flush high on his cheek. Namjoon looking up at Yoongi from where he’s stopped- cheek on the elder's shoulder. The snake relaxing after a moment. 

- You spend the rest of the day showing Jimin and Yoongi how to prepare the tomatoes to make a sauce, roasting them on low heat. Cutting garlic so so carefully, and whenever Jimin looks across the prep table- Yoongi’s gaze darts away. halfway through- yoongi stoops down, sticking his socked feet into jimin’s lap, and it feels so nice, to have their weight there. 

- You go over to Yoongi at one point, and he tips his head back to look up at you. The back of his head is at the right height to lye up against your baby bump. And Jimin watches, as you slowly, so slowly, brush the hair out of his eyes and away from his forehead. Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and he tips his face into your hand. Letting out a low happy grumble when you take his action as positive reinforcement, and drag your nails over his scalp. In Jimin’s lap, Yoongi’s toes curl. 

- It feels strange- and Jimin can’t quite put his finger on it- but it almost feels like Yoongi is letting you all touch him more than ever. Suddenly okay with touches- as long as it’s in a more private setting. Jimin can’t say he’s unhappy about it. Maybe one-day yoongi will even let Jimin scent mark him. 

- Jimin smiles at Yoongi’s happy little snake grumbles. And keeps chopping his garlic. Is happy to receive the same kind of scratch from you a few minutes later. Though he might abandon his chopping in favor of rubbing his face all over your stomach when the instinct strikes him. Jimin unintentionally lets out a growl when you start to move away. Slapping a hand over his mouth and apologizing, no matter how you and Yoongi laugh.

- Still, despite the happiness, you have in your kitchen, in your house, whenever you’re around each other. The rest of the world is not so kind.

- An adoption day comes at arguably the worst and best time. There is still a fair amount of friction between your group and the rest of the hybrids. And a few outsiders at the farm only make it worse. Though Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon aren’t the only hybrids who wear red stickers to indicate that they are not available for adoption.

- Hoseok surprisingly- grabs a yellow sticker. And the three of your hybrids watch- as Seokjin hovers around him- a red sticker on his own lapel- wary of all and anyone who interacts with the otter hybrid. His glares putting off all but the most attentive patrons. That's where it starts.

- Jimin is unfortunately caught in the middle when seokjin confronts hoseok. off to help the three of them bring down 3 trays of cut watermelon for the hybrids and the patrons. The dinner tables have been set out on the side of the field piled high with Hors d'oeuvre. You’re there with Namjoon greeting the humans. Games are set out too- for the hybrids and humans to play. 

- it’s no secret that they’ve gotten close, and jimin had assumed they’d talked about it- but apparently not. Seokjin is so angry he’s nearly crying. “why- hoseok- why do you want to leave the farm?” Hoseok’s little otter ears are tight against his scalp. “I just- I didn’t want to assume?”

- “Oh- so you’d rather just- throw away everything that we’re trying- all of this- you don’t you dont want to stay do you-” Jimin has never seen seokjin looking so lost, and he knows enough to guess that Seokjin’s anger is at least in part to due to some trauma (later- Jimin will find out that Seokjin’s mother left him with his last owner- an abusive man- to save herself).  

- Jimin knows enough to get in between them, telling them to calm down and spend a minute away from each other. Jimin ends up with Hoseok- “it’s hard Jimin- how do you, how do you have so much sureness with Y/n? with Namjoon and yoongi too? How do you look at them and trust that you should stay?” Hoseok's eyes remain on Jimin's red tag. 

- Jimin sighs, thinking it through, “do you look at Seokjin and know he cares about you? like- do you know it in your bones?” Hoseok bites his lower lip, “yes- but-” 

- “Then you should stay Hoseok,” Jimin walks Hoseok up to the main house where the stickers sit on the prep table. Changing out his yellow one for a red one. And when they head off back down the hill, Seokjin is waiting on the path with Yoongi, apologizing and dragging Hoseok away to the barns where Seokjin’s own private room is. Hoseok goes willingly, smiling up at the older hybrid. His narrow shoulders cuddled under one of Seokjin's wide ones. 

- jimin has to admit, an otter and an alpaca are a weird combination for a hybrid pack (But no stranger than a pair of puppies and a snake). His thoughts drift towards Taehyung- and Jimin hopes that his friend won't end up alone. it must not be easy- to see all of you pair off like this. 

- in some ways, that adoption day is full of just as much bullshit as they usually are. there are always people who dont understand the effort it takes to take care of a hybrid- they aren't just like any ordinary pet. it's easy to spot the ones that view them as pets- and less like people. You get a few rich people looking to adopt a companion as always. 

- A substantial group of families also look to adopt similarly aged companions for their single children. And you agree to more than one possible test weekend. You’re always so particular about letting the children go, so wary and so careful in the way you let them interact with the families.

- Though they don’t have parents here- there are more than a few good role models and parental figures. More than one child chooses a red tag for themselves. And they always know have a right to it- no matter how young they are. You make it clear to the group of them; If they don’t want to be adopted they don’t have to be. 

- You even get one couple- the woman withdrawn and sad, and a slightly jealous look at your own pregnant stomach says more than any words could. It’s pretty common for women who can’t have children to adopt hybrid children. and though some of it doesn't sit right with you, You aren’t one to judge. 

- Jimin spends most of the adoption day helping you balance the need for food and for games. running back and forth to the house to help. Though there is a little work that needs to be done here and there just to keep the farm running as usual. grey storm clouds roll in halfway through the day, puncturing the blue sky- foretelling scattered showers and storms. and jimin hopes it will cut the adoption day short so that you can return to your routines. 

- Jimin is just helping Yoongi putting away a broken badminton net When it happens- Jimin isn’t certain why it does. Only that he hears the words outside the shed after Yoongi's just excited to grab the broken rackets (Namjoon isn't the only clumsy hybrid you have at the farm). 

- “oh sorry- ew gross,” a shrill female voice says, and then he rounds the corner and sees yoongi picking himself up from the dirt- a rich lady and her peacock hybrid looking down at him like he’s the dirt beneath his shoes. The peacock hybrid has Yoongi’s sun hat in his hands and there is another hybrid- a wolf hybrid from the farm with a green sticker on his shirt, who growls down at yoongi.

- His shoulders shake too the way they do when he’s been touched and he doesn’t want to be. Jimin has seen you brush your fingers over the back of Yoongi’s hand, has even felt the coolness of the snake hybrid through the fabric when the elder grabbed his sleeve. Has touched him even more intimately as of late. But he knows that Yoongi can’t tolerate being touched by people he doesn’t trust- doesn’t want to touch him. basically, anyone, that's, not you, Namjoon, or Jimin himself. 

- “Hey- what the fuck!” Jimin spits, grabbing the sunhat out of the hybrid's hand with a growl, his ears flat against his head. If Jimin had elongated canines like Namjoon they would be barred in anger as he shoves the larger hybrid back. Yoongi shrinks impossibly smaller behind him.

- Jimin is hot and itchy from the heat and the humidity, and he really just wants to shower and cool off. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with entitled people today. And more importantly- no one touches Yoongi on Jimin’s watch.

- The hybrid looks surprised to be talked to in that way, he’s nearly a head taller than Jimin let alone the slightly taller feathers that poke out of the top of his head that give him the appearance of several more inches- but Jimin’s intimidating enough with his set expression to send the hybrid huffing away. Feathers fluffed.

- The peacock's iridescent feathers stand up on end as he grabs the hand of his human owner, her diamond tennis bracelet glittering in the sunlight. “This was getting boring anyway. Sorry” he tosses over his shoulder at the canine hybrid, who looks so disappointed his ears pinned back against his head. They only give him that- barely a look, before they’re heading off down the hill in the direction of the line of cars parked on the grass.

- The wolf hybrid deflates audibly- watching the woman and the other hybrid disappear down the hill. promises of home and family disappearing in a moment, but Jimin has to think- if they’d be discouraged so easily- were they really worth it? The wolf hybrid doesn't seem to think so- Turning his angry tear-filled eyes on Jimin. 

- But Jimin can see the hate in his eyes and knows not to mistake the tears for only sadness. “You both ruin everything” he growls out- before they too run back towards the barns- no doubt to tell the others how Yoongi had sabotaged their adoption. Even though that was far from the truth. in all honestly- yoongi just bumped into the lady- or more probably- the lady bumped into him when he was on his way out of the shed.

- Jimin holds out his sunhat to Yoongi, who takes it from Jimin carefully, Jimin doesn’t linger on the fact that his hand still shakes. Jimin’s hand lingers somewhere close enough where Yoongi could touch it could reach out if he wants too. If he wants to get that kind of comfort from Jimin's touch- then Jimin will willingly give it. 

- a faint flush coats the elder's cheeks. Oh no- he must be overheating then, Jimin feels a rush of concern. He knows what you would do, hover your hand close enough to Yoongi’s forehead, usher him upstairs for a break in the air conditioning, and a glass of icy lemonade.

- All they can hear is the shouts of laughter at the games the others play in the fields, “I understand why you don’t want to stay in the barns, why you don’t want to socialize with some of them, they’re so unkind to you it makes me crazy.” Jimin shakes his head, sour anger filling him like a rotten peach.

- Yoongi, looks more than pacified, looking up at Jimin with an indecipherable look. Most of the time, Jimin can get a good guess on how he’s feeling but not now- not that indecipherable heaviness he finds there. or the strangely heavy marshmallow scent that’s fluffed around them. Jimin lets go of Yoongi’s hat.

- After a moment Yoongi nods, and Jimin takes it as a thank you. They’re done for the day and dinner won’t be for another few hours or so. Jimin is ready to avoid some of the strangers and hopefully take advantage of the empty showers. The sky is grey with incumbent storm clouds when Jimin makes his way to the shower buildings which he finds blissfully empty; except for the bear hybrid Jackson that tosses a greeting at Jimin before exiting.

- Jimin doesn’t even bother to flick the lights on, instead of settling for the calm light that comes through the skylights, grey and hazy. the storm clouds have started to roll in properly. He hums as he disrobes, goes to grab his favorite strawberry body wash, and picks the last shower at the end, disrobing in relative comfort, glad for a moment of privacy.

- The blissfully Coldwater does wonders for his overheating muscles, relaxing his body deliciously from a day spent walking up and down the hill. he digests the chaos of the day- seokjin and hoseok fighting, yoongi getting shoved. you'd looked frazzled the last time he'd seen you, smile strained as you made small talk with most of the humans, Namjoon always close incase you needed someone to lean on.

-  Jimin had been able to tell that your feet were sore just by looking at you. Namjoon will probably make you sit down before long, maybe he already has. You’ll probably cut off the adoption day because of the rain. Taking down names and information before you send them on their way. You rarely let a hybrid leave the farm after one adoption day, needing to have more private meetings and house calls to willingly part with one of them. You just want to make sure you dont release them back into another abusive household. 

- He hums as he washes, lingering in the water and taking a longer shower than he usually would. He hums, testing the way his vocal cords wrap around the acoustics of the empty high ceilinged room. 

Then he hears the scuffling of someone in the bathroom too and cuts off. A little abashed at being caught. The rustling getting closer and its a moment before he realizes that the rustling is coming from his own section of the bath. he smells him the second before he pulls the shower curtain gets pulled back. 

- “Yoongi!” Jimin shouts, furiously grabbing at something to cover his nakedness. Jimin furiously tries to cover his crotch, grabbing one of the large bargain bottles of shampoo and hold it there even as cold water runs over his face. Getting into his wide eyes. “Yoongi what the fuck! You’re naked!”

- Jimin is glad that the rumors about snake hybrids having double the appendages as a normal hybrid are false but he can’t stop his blush or his wandering eyes as he sees the snake hybrid in full. Or the hot lick of arousal that shocks him through his core- especially when he recognizes the heaviness to Yoongi's scent as being arousal. 

- there is a single moment, jimin can smell yoongi- can see the want in his eyes, can feel his own scent fluff out to meet his, yoongi sags under the weight of Jimin's scent as the surprise dissipates. "do you-" Jimin's face must be brighter than a tomato. He reaches out a tentative hand, "do you want to-" 

- Before Jimin can do much more than that Yoongi’s lips are on his, tentative but firm and passionate, the fire leaking into him from Yoongi as jimin stumbles in surprise. The kiss tastes like thank you and Ive wanted to do this for longer than i care to admit and everything yoongi can't say, can't let slip past his lips. jimin drops the shampoo bottle which narrowly misses his foot as Yoongi’s hands come up to encircle his jaw so softly like Yoongi is holding the most important thing in his world. Jimin is so shocked that for a moment- he doesn’t kiss back and Yoongi retracts- not before Jimin chases his lips and the snake hybrid returns to him.

- It’s the first time Yoongi’s ever touched Jimin so bare, and the snake’s hands on the back of his neck feel cold and shivery but good. As Jimin’s back hit’s the wall and their fronts press together for a moment, just brushing. Then colliding with more force as they both realize how good it feels to be so close to someone you trust. It’s dizzying- intoxicating, and Jimin knows his mouth is moving sloppily even if he wants to kiss Yoongi with just as much intent. 

- The snake hybrid bites- actually bites- down on Jimin’s tongue. And a strangled whine comes to live and die in his throat. A snarl in his ears from Yoongi's mouth as the snake hybrid keeps his biting, moves to Jimin's throat- bites hard Enough that Jimin knows he'll leave a bruise. "leave more- yoongi please mark me" jimin feels hot with the thought of it- the thought of all the other hybrids being able to smell yoongi on his scent gland. 

- Jimin doesn’t know where to put his hands, he knows enough to know that Yoongi doesn’t like to be touched and unsure if it extends to right now. but it seems okay if he’s doing the touching. His hands sliding down Jimin's back to his waist. He’s a good kisser, the best that Jimin’s ever kissed (not that there have been many) and he tips his head forward to put as much scalding force as he can into it when yoongi leaves his neck in favor of his mouth, trying to match Yoongi’s intensity even if he can’t match his skill.

- Yoongi takes a step forward, and Jimin’s cock brushes his hipbone, and he can’t stop the way his hips jump at the contact, brushing into Yoongi further. Jimin’s blood boils with arousal. Yoongi is equally as hard compared to Jimin. And Jimin doesn't know if its water or precum that he feels on his skin. Can't look down to check.

- By the time Yoongi leans back and finishes running his fingers through Jimin’s hair and over his shoulders. Jimin’s so wound up he feels like he’s about the pass out. The cool water cascading over his back doing nothing to settle him. Yoongi moves his hips- testing the waters, as he grinds, works jimin’s hips into an unsteady rhythm. and jimin moans. 

- Yoongi pulls back, looking at jimin, their noses brushing, like he can’t bear to have jimin farther away from him than this, want heavy in his eyes, and Jimin tastes the words on Yoongi’s lips as good as if he’d said them. “Yoongi” jimin breathes. Palms pressed carefully to the shower wall so that he won’t reach out and yank Yoongi closer. But he’s Weak against the wake of this of all this feeling.

- “fuck- kiss me again- can we- ” Jimin feels strung out, his body heavy with something like heat- maybe Jimin is actually having a heat and it’s not just in his imagination (he wouldn't really know what it felt like- never having had one before because of his malnutrition). But This kind of kissing is certainly enough to trigger one.

- Yoongi opens his mouth for a second, almost like he’s about to speak- or to try to, Jimin’s never been sure if he can- if it’s muteness or just Yoongi being selective. And then in the next moment, Yoongi’s gone, almost tripping on his way out of the showers with how fast he’s leaving jimin. A whine dies in his throat and jimin starts after him, But then Yoongi turns back. Gesturing with a hand for jimin to stay put. Yoongi looks angry, and it takes a moment for Jimin to realize that the anger wasn’t directed at jimin- only at Himself.

- Jimin stays in the shower, water thundering down around him as the sky overhead thunders too. Jimin listens to the faint sound of Yoongi dressing and then leaving the showers. Jimin lets him go. So sure that he has absolutely no idea what just happen- or even if he didn’t imagine the whole thing.

- jimin’s hand on himself doesn't feel nearly good as Yoongi’s did. 

- Yoongi’s hands shake all the way back up the hill, and he hopes his wet hair won’t be too suspicious especially when a mixed group of hybrids crosses his path. Returning to the barns as most of the adoption day festivities have ended.

 - Yoongi’s careful to keep his eyes averted. And like usual- the conversation comes to a halt when Yoongi passes them by. It no longer bugs him the way it might have once. They have a good reason not to want to associate with him. Yoongi’s body shakes with the weight of the things he’s done and the things he’s going to do.

- you gather with 3 families on your porch as you take down their names and contact information. You send yoongi a concerned look as he quickly heads inside the house. Pausing only for a moment before he decides to go to Namjoon first. Later- later he’ll ask you too. 

- Stupid- he’s been so stupid recently. Touching you- indulging in these short sweet touches because he wants more so badly. Knows he can never have it doesn’t stop the wanting. If his owner ever found out what he’s done- if she ever found out what he’d almost done with jimin- she’d surely have Jimin’s hands for it. 

- And as much as Yoongi wishes it were any other way- Jimin almost touching him does remind him of far worse times. Though he’d been the one to initiate it this time- the memories still linger. 

- Times when foreign hands touched his skin as he’d thrashed and screamed trying to protest against the taunting words of his owner. “I’ve never been interested in snake dick but if you want him for tonight you can have him- just be careful- he bites” and he shakes with those memories. Though its been many years. like most kinds of torture- eventually, his owner had grown bored with using yoongi's body as a bargaining chip. Yoongi wonders if he’s ever going to be able to be touched that way without feeling the revulsion at his own body.

- Jimin had come close, but he'd known- known that yoongi didn't want him to touch him. Had seemed more than willing to be touched himself. the revulsion hadn't hit him until the end. 

- The places he’s been touched without his consent feel black and decaying- or like ink, every time someone touches him- Yoongi’s surprised that ink doesn’t come away on your hands soft and delicate. But it didn’t change the fact that Yoongi wanted it- and wants it still. 

- he wants to see you soft and sated the way you look sometimes in the morning when he can smell Namjoon on you- wants to cause it- maybe, someday in the future if you'll let him. He knows you’d be gentle with him. Wouldn’t put your hands anywhere he didn’t want. Would check in with him- going as slowly or as quickly as he wanted too. Namjoon would be able to be gentle too- Yoongi’s sure of it.

- He wants it, even though he knows that want only put you all in danger. He’s an incredibly selfish person. He hopes he never gets to have that intimacy with you, for your sake.

- yoongi should only let himself dream of something good before he goes- sinks back into that life. But the temptation for more is too strong sometimes, his want filling him up like sticky sweet syrup that pollutes every moment. 

- Namjoon is on the second floor of your house and Yoongi takes the stairs two at a time. Folding laundry in what will one day be the nursery for your child. He’s taken the ultrasound up here now- hung it up so he can look at it. and Yoongi is reminded of A few days ago when he gushed about the development of your child to Yoongi in the kitchen comparing them to the size of a fruit. “a cute little cantaloupe- the cutest little cantaloupe”

- You and Namjoon have made the decision not to find out the gender, but the walls of the nursery are still pained blue, puffy clouds above and little flowers below, dandelions and daisies, a stalwart sunflower that curls over the arch of the door half-finished. Yoongi knows you work on the mural it whenever you can. But Namjoon gets a little paranoid about the fumes- you compromise and keep the windows open along with the door to your balcony to allow as much air circulation as possible.

- The crib, a fluffy white thing is already piled into the corner. And Yoongi remembers the first few weeks here when you and Namjoon had overzealously ordered it. He’d come downstairs after dinner one night and found both of you puzzling over the directions. And he’d shooed Namjoon away as he’d helped you put it together. The three of you ending up giggly and punch drunk tired by the time it was fully put together. And then had to carry it all the way up the stairs. 

-A mobile of little felted flowers that Seokjin made you as a thank you present a hangs above the empty Crib- colorful and cute. And Namjoon has set the laundry on the unused changing table in neat stacks. All of the other furniture is piled into the center of the room so that you can paint the walls. He turns when he hears Yoongi, his tail swishing.

- “Hey Yoon- what you get caught in a rainstorm or something?” the rain splatters against the windows with a soft patter and Yoongi drips onto the floor. He never bothered to dry off after the unintentional shower with jimin. Yoongi makes a shrug that means ‘something like that’ and if the younger hybrid hovers on the way that Yoongi’s lips look a little kiss bitten and swollen he doesn’t say a thing. Namjoon knows better than anyone- what they talk about and what they don’t.

- He hands over the slip of paper; “jimin should move into the main house, you and I could clean out one of the storage rooms and move the stuff into the attic.”

-  Yoongi watches Namjoon’s eyes rove over the words a few times. The hybrid purses his lips, “I’ve talked to Y/n about this- and she agrees- but I don’t know if he wants too? He seems pretty comfortable in the barns, he likes Taehyung and they’re friends. and we kind of want to leave it up to him if we can.”

- Yoongi snatches the paperback from him, annoyance flickering in his chest as he rolls his eye. Didn’t Namjoon see that nothing would change if they didn’t push him a little? Jimin is the type to take that kind of abuse again and again if it means not making a fuss. And Yoongi knows it’s only a matter of time before something happens again. He turns it over onto the other side and using the wall as a place to write.

- “He’s already being treated differently because of me” 'me' being double underlined- so that Namjoon really understands what he’s trying to say. Yoongi just wants to make sure Jimin is safe before he goes. Before he needs to leave and before it gets too dangerous and too near a time when his owner will physically retrieve him. Not that Namjoon knows that Yoongi’s presence has an expiration date. Namjoon searches Yoongi’s face for a source to his desperation and finds none.

- Yoongi has never felt worse for keeping secrets. Maybe in another world- Yoongi would have confessed and asked Namjoon, with all of his connections to the police, for help. Yoongi knows enough to put the whole crime system out of whack and yet. Years of negative reinforcement and beatings have taught him to keep his mouth shut and that isn’t going to change now; not when Yoongi’s life isn’t the only one at risk and he knows you’ll all live if he plays by the rules. He doesn't care about his own safety anymore. 

- The second he sees Yoongi’s distraught expression Namjoon steps closer Taking off his flannel and tugging it around his shoulders. Namjoon might not make moves to scent mark Yoongi but dressing him in his clothes is as good as he gets. Namjoon’s comforting alpha scent fluffs around him.

- Yoongi wonders if jimin feels the pull the same way he does. Dynamics are more mobile in snake hybrids and downright non-existent in humans. but they’re more set in canines. Namjoon puts his hand on Yoongi’s clothed arm and Yoongi shuffles close after a second. His nose centimeters from Namjoon’s neck taking in deep breathes to try and steady himself. He didn’t realize he was shaking.

- “It will be alright Yoongi, I promise. He’s gonna be safe.” Namjoon adds quieter. And below them both- in the first floor of the house, he can hear your voice, echoing louder and laughing at some sort of joke, Namjoon’s tail starts wagging at the suggestion of you. “I want them to feel safe too.”

- Yoongi wants to write “he should take my room- I won’t be staying in it soon anyway.” but Yoongi needs to make sure- before he leaves. Jimin has to be included in your little pack. He doesn’t want to think- about what the three of you will go through when he eventually has to leave. The days are counting down to the end of the summer. 

- He’s fucking selfish, so selfish, to kiss Jimin like that when he knows he won't be able to stay in the hybrids life. He’s selfish every time he begs affection off you, every day he keeps Namjoon Company when he’s cleaning up the other barns. Yoongi writing out words in the dust when Namjoon asks him questions. Eyes only searching when Namjoon turns his back. Looking for any sort of hidden compartment. Completing his task even if it’s the last thing he wants to do. Betraying you like this.

- Jimin spends the rest of the day wondering if the kiss with Yoongi was just a dream. But later at dinner, Yoongi won’t meet his eyes, and jimin knows he didn’t imagine the kiss. Guilt sticks to Yoongi, more distracting than honey stuck between your fingertips.

- Both of them go to sleep still thinking about the kiss. Jimin wondering if it will happen again and Yoongi thinking that he’d like it too. His fingers running over his lower and upper lips, mind awash with the memory of jimin’s mouth on his. And night falls heavy like a weighted blanket on the farm. The sky a big sheet with holes poked through for stars. A heavenly breeze tempting away the summer heat.

- All of the hybrids safe and snoring in their beds. Some even paired- if they’ve got it. Two furry bodies packed close on a single bed. Some even dream of homes they mind one day live in or of the people that one day they’ll get to love. The idea of being kept and treasured lulling them into a drowsy haze of anticipation and security. 

- That night, Namjoon knocks on Yoongi’s door. the hybrid leaning up against the doorframe as he watches the snake get ready for bed. “you know... you could sleep in our room if you want, we have an air conditioner in there too.” yoongi has a notepad ready, he knows that Namjoon likes to open all the windows and even the door to your balcony to let the fresh air in so that it feels like you're sleeping outside. He steels himself to think of someone other than himself before he writes- “I’m okay- thanks though” Yoongi writes out. 

- Namjoon lifts one of Yoongi’s blankets to his neck before he leaves, thoroughly scents marking it before he leaves it with Yoongi. And Yoongi sleeps easy that night with his nose pressed to the blanket. Safe and secure in his room. Nothing bad happens to yoongi that night even though he cuddles close to the blanket, and when he wakes in the morning. his heart beats a steady thumping rhythm- his whole body humming with anticipation. 

- It’s different to feel excited about being in love, excited for a day spent close to the people he cares about. And he knows he won't take a single day for granted. 

- The crickets and cicadas chirping in the field. And in a low tone on the tree outside, a morning dove gentle and unassuming. The sun rising over the hills. Tastes of idyllic and smells of Eden. Like lavender and honey.

- A hand outstretched, scrambling in the dirt before it goes still, fingers just a few inches from safety. Blood mixing in with the sand. The morning is not perfect for everyone.

- But even you would say the morning was peaceful, if not for the dead body dumped at the end of your driveway. 

Kofi

[genshin-impacted]

liquid courage // Kaeya x Reader

Word Count: ~3k

Notes: gender-neutral reader, Kaeya/Reader; cw alcohol, established friendship; friends to lovers (real quick); tons of flirting/bantering (and kissing), PDA, third-person POV of relationship

Summary: And there it is again-- another chance to back away. You wonder how many times there have been close calls like this when the flirting feels all too real and your feelings almost bubble to the surface. Tonight, the two of you are a little tipsy, a little braver, and more reckless-- and you do not back down from Kaeya when he looks like he wants to kiss you.

.

.

Kaeya is an intelligent, well-to-do charming individual and the whole of Mondstadt knows it. As far as the citizens know, he’s the captain of utmost chivalry (especially to the elderly population), and to the Knights, he’s a thinker who, despite his status and position, keeps people at arm’s length.

Except for you.

For most of the people in Mondstadt, they take a look at you and Kaeya and there is no doubt you are the closest of friends. When you buy dinner at The Good Hunters, you always order skewers for Kaeya, and when you are late for your nightly drinking, Kaeya subtly slides his drink to the side to save a seat for you. In both daylight and nighttime, the two of you exchange words in a fast-paced banter that makes it easy for either of you to get along. Or so the common folk assume; they certainly do not converse with Kaeya the way you do, which has always, in some way or another, included some back-and-forth-- some more flirty than others.

"The bed was lonely without you," Kaeya croons when you finally get back from a week-long journey. You choke on your spit when he gives you his best sultry stare. Before, this statement would have turned heads, but the Knights and citizens of Mondstadt are far too used to hearing these snippets of your conversation-- not that it makes it any less interesting to listen to. (And if people take notes on the flirty comments for future use, that is neither here nor there.)

"The feeling is mutual," you coo, recovering quickly as you grasp your hands in prayer. "I spent every night looking at the stars and thinking how much they reminded me of your eyes."

"Oho, thinking of me before you sleep, huh?"

"Every night--"

God forbid a child hears the two of you, but for the most part, you keep it friendly. A jab here-- “I didn’t know you were such a… slacker”-- a flirty remark here-- “Kaeya, just who are you trying to show off to with that outfit”-- whatever makes the other's lips upturn and whatever comes to mind first almost like a battle of wits. However facetious your comments are to each other, the people do not question your friendship for the times you bump shoulders after coming home from an expedition in varying levels of wear and tear with a grin on your faces.

(“I’m just glad Kaeya has someone to look after him,” Jean answers when someone asks about the two of you. She pauses and sighs. “...And the other way around.”)

For whatever reason, no one has ever taken your flirty remarks to each other seriously despite how long they’ve been going for. Nothing has made them question your friendship for how long it has stood or how real the flirty remarks are (if they ever have been in the first place).

The problem with joking about something or doing something ironically is that oftentimes it ends up being quite real.

"Sir Kaeya," you say dramatically one day when Kaeya comes back from an expedition that takes twice as long. You place your hand over your heart, ignoring the way it beats rapidly at the sight of him safe and sound. "Oh, how I have missed you."

"And I, too, my dear heart," Kaeya replies back without a beat in between. And it seems you cannot hide the relief on your face because he drops his flirty grin to settle into a soft smile. "Worried about me?"

Without a flirty remark to hide behind, you can only nod.

(If not for the fact that sometimes you actually feel your face warm from Kaeya’s comments or praises-- and more so when they are actually genuine-- you would have been otherwise ignorant to your own growing feelings for a certain cavalry captain.)

Kaeya always ruffles your hair then, even if you squawk at him and jab at his non-injured side, and those feelings are placed in the back burner to brew later.

The tender moments come and go, and neither of you is the type to sit in it, for how easy it is to clear the air and go back to bantering. You don't mind either way if you were honest. You're the only one who Kaeya shamelessly flirts with and you're the only one privy to the thoughts he holds (especially when drunk). You hold a special position as his friend and he has a special place in your heart as well.

You would be lying to say that everything between the two of you was platonic, not when sometimes you catch yourself staring at Kaeya when he's not looking or wondering briefly what his hair would feel like through your fingers. (You attempt to run your hands through it once but he's much too quick and tall for you to catch him unawares, and now it has become a game that usually ends up with your hair looking like a nest gone wrong.) The thoughts come and go, and you are content with being Kaeya’s friend, for now.

"Another, please!" You wave your hand in the air as you grin, Diona huffing even as she provides two new drinks for you to bring back to your table. "Thank you," you sing, walking with a sort of sway that makes you spill some of the drink on your hands. You're buzzed, that much is certain; you lick at your hand to save what you can before you slam the drinks down in front of Kaeya.

"Bottoms up," you cheer, clinking glasses with Kaeya who laughs a little more freely now that he has a few drinks in him.

"Are you sure you can handle any more?" Kaeya asks, swirling his drink with an amused smile. "No use in pushing yourself. If you're trying to drink as much as Rosaria, you might as well stop now."

"Friends that drink together stay together-- or however that phrase is supposed to go," you say, waving your hand flippantly as Kaeya snorts in his drink. "Something, something, I can drink more. Trust."

"Stop," Kaeya laughs, putting down his drink and throwing his head back. You grin up at him when he throws his arm over your shoulder. "You didn't even give me a real reason."

"You didn't give me a reason when I caught you day drinking the other day," you retort playfully, and Kaeya snickers again, putting his hands in the air.

"What, can't a guy enjoy a Death After Noon... after noon?"

"You're terrible."

"I'm terrific."

You're warm from the drink pouring down your throat and the arm comfortably hooked around your shoulder. If Kaeya notices you lean into him more, he does not say a word, but you joke again, not straying an inch from his side as though you're addicted to his warmth. And aren't you, in a way? With how you keep coming back to the thought that your best friend is one of the most attractive men in Mondstadt, that his eyelashes are unfairly long, and that sometimes you wish you could kiss his eyepatch-- just to see if you can fluster him like he always does to you with you.

Ah, you think, feeling the heady pull of intoxication, there are those thoughts again.

You laugh lightly at something he says under his breath about one of the other customers in Cat's Tail and take the moment to push the thoughts away when Kaeya suddenly cups your face. You would complain about the way he maneuvers your face to his pleasure, turning your head this way and that, but you laugh instead, inwardly pleased by the attention.

"What is it?"

"Lipgloss," he says, and you blame the alcohol for dulling your senses when you only stare blankly at him, wondering if you accidentally missed a piece of the conversation. He snorts when he sees the evident confusion and explains, "Lipgloss-- are you wearing them right now?"

"No?" You ask back, laughing as you shyly swat his hands away to no avail, "I don't think so?" When Kaeya only hums, you reply back almost instinctively, spurred on by your thoughts and-- well, your remarks have always been on the cusp of being real. You press your lips together as your heart races. "Why, they look kissable?"

"Very," he says teasingly, and you smile widely at him as though the two of you were not in an intimate position.

There's always a way out, you realize, at every step of the way-- to deescalate, to redirect the conversation, and treat it as a joke. You could have changed the subject and talked about how dry the weather has been; Kaeya could have replied back as sultry as ever and dropped his hands from your face.

But he doesn't.

Instead, his thumb surreptitiously brushes over your bottom lip, and you look up at him and wonder what your eyes look like to him at the moment.

It would be easy to playfully push him away and call him a flirt. But you don't.

You meet his eyes and say, "Why don't you find out for yourself?"

There is a pause, then-- "Alright." And you can feel Kaeya close the distance between the two of you, his free hand wrapped around the arm you placed onto the table. Your breath hitches when Kaeya stops with his lips an inch from yours and looks at you searchingly.

And there it is again-- another chance to back away. You wonder how many times there have been close calls like this when the flirting feels all too real and your feelings almost bubble to the surface. Tonight, the two of you are a little tipsy, a little braver, and more reckless-- and you do not back down from Kaeya when he looks like he wants to kiss you.

Your eyes flutter closed, and that is the last thing Kaeya needs to close the distance completely.

It is a kiss that is all too chaste-- something that, when people think of Kaeya, is not what they would associate him with. But this is a Kaeya you're familiar with, have seen a glimpse of-- and you are warm everywhere when Kaeya gently slides his lips over yours and tilts his head to fit with you better. Everything is hazy, and you think it's the alcohol, but you're hyper-aware of the softness of his lips on yours, the way your hand reaches out to hold onto the front of his shirt, and the way he holds you so tenderly.

You think you can kiss him forever.

(Neither of you takes note, but the bar has quieted down considerably as the table next to you stares, gaping as the two of you kiss. And with their heads turned, others turn with them as the two of you inadvertently pull the rug from under all of them. The two of you are dating? Since when? Was the flirting never just a joke? What was happening?!

I need a drink, someone says, and the rest of them nod in agreement, much to Diona’s dismay.)

Kaeya is the one that pulls away first, laughing under his breath. “Are you even breathing?” He asks you teasingly, his hand still cupping your face. “I know I take your breath away, but you can’t faint on me.”

You snort, your hand raising up to cover your smile. “Sorry,” you drawl, watching as his hand falls to your thigh. “You were just so breathtaking I forgot how to do anything.”

“Well,” Kaeya says, his voice low enough to be a purr. “You sure knew how to kiss, though.”

You laugh, waving your hand flippantly. “Why, thank you,” you simper, doing a mock-bow. “Same to you. Excellent skills, Sir Kaeya; my heart skipped a few beats there.”

Kaeya lets out another laugh as you pick up your drink and smile into it. And like that, you two are where you first started-- almost.

The two of you talk about whatever comes to mind, bantering ever so often. But for the rest of the night, Kaeya’s hand stays on your wrist, his thumb rubbing over your hand absently, and you catch yourself staring down at his lips as he talks. If you end up in his space again, you stay a little longer, even as you start to sober up and feel your eyes grow heavy.

“Aw, is it your bedtime?” You hear Kaeya say from the temporary darkness you placed yourself in as you bury your face into your arms on the table.

“Shut up, Kaeya.” You snicker, swatting away his hands when they poke at your cheek. “It’s been a long day.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to walk you home now, don’t I?”

This time you are the one looking up at him searchingly, watching for signs of whether he’s joking or not. Your eyes stop at his lips and you turn your head into your arms again. “...Sure,” you say. “Thanks.”

You aren’t sure if you can ever flirt with Kaeya in the same way again, with how your heart skips at the thought of him, but you will manage if that’s what you have to do. You push your stool under the table and throw Kaeya a smile when he opens the door for you to exit first. (You don’t know why Diona glares at the two of you when you wave goodbye, but judging by the cat-nipped smile on Kaeya’s face, you can probably ask him later.)

You’re surprised from your thoughts when you feel a weight on your shoulders, and when your hands reach up to touch it, you feel fur wrapped around your neck. It smells like Kaeya.

“You looked cold,” Kaeya says when you look at his cardigan wrapped around you before glancing back at him. He does not let you provide a response when he starts walking ahead of you. When you make a noise of displeasure, running to catch up to him, he laughs, quietly slowing down his pace until the two of you are walking synchronously.

For once, the two of you are silent.

Every so often your hands brush over his, and your thoughts are loud when they tell you how much you want to hold his hand. You think you will dream of that kiss you shared with him tonight, and then tomorrow the day will begin as normal, teetering on the edge of platonic and romantic. The more you think about the less fine you feel about leaving everything as it is. You don’t want to overcomplicate things but there are so many questions that you want to be answered. Did that kiss mean anything? Does Kaeya have feelings for you? Does he know you like him?

The walk to your home is much too quick this time around, and you are already shedding the cardigan Kaeya has given you as the two of you reach your doorstep. Wordlessly, Kaeya takes back his jacket and you open your mouth without anything to say.

Of all the time for you to be speechless in front of your best friend, it had to be now.

“Kaeya--”

“Good night then,” he says, a second faster than you. With the moon behind him, it’s hard to see his face, but you can imagine how his lips quirk up into a soft smile with how he speaks to you-- and your heart tightens. “Be sure to drink some more water. Can’t have you waking up with a hangover now, can we?”    

You nod, lowering your head. “Yeah,” you say. “Same to you.”

The silence is deafening.

Without another word, you hear Kaeya’s boots shift the gravel underneath his feet, and though there is no more liquid courage coursing through your veins, you tell yourself to be reckless anyways. Your relationship will survive, you tell yourself. Whatever happens, Kaeya will be important to you.

You call out his name.

When he turns around, you ask him to kiss you again.

It’s hard to imagine what sort of expression he has on his face when you’re in uncharted territory, and the slow response has you sweating bullets. But then you hear a quiet “Alright,” and Kaeya is in front of you, putting his hands onto the wall behind you.

You are ready when he dips his head down to kiss you again.

It is just as good as it was the first time.

You wrap your arms around him, a hand buried into his head (finally!) and another clasped behind his neck as he pulls you closer to him with a hand on your waist. Those with Cryo Visions run cold but Kaeya’s lips are nothing but warm as they nip at you and press onto yours over and over again. You bite back a pleasant gasp when you allow him entry, his tongue sliding across yours that has you hazy.

You break away first, and you note vaguely that you are not the only one breathing heavily.

“On a scale from one to ten,” Kaeya says, holding you close to him with a grin, “would you say that was better than what we did in the tavern?”

You roll your eyes even though your face warms at the comment. “Bold of you to assume I would kiss and tell.”

“I do well with constructive feedback, you know,” he quips, making you laugh. “What? Are you saying I don’t?”

“No,” you say, breathless from the kiss and from the elation that everything was okay. “No, I’m just thinking how I would write an evaluation for you with strengths, weaknesses, and improvements--”

Kaeya kisses you again and you forget what you wanted to say.

“...Is this all I have to do to win an argument against you?” He says teasingly, and you headbutt into his chest, much to his amusement.

“It’ll stop working eventually,” you say, settling your hands behind his back as you rest your face onto him. He hums as he holds you close, and you look up at him again and grin. “Guess you’ll have to see how many times it’ll work though.”

And Kaeya laughs into the kiss as you pull him down for another one.

[zukkoxx]

first kiss!

w/ deku, denki, bakugo

deku🥦 a/n : n/n= nickname

deku had always respected you and your choices since the beginning of your relationship.

it had only been about a month since you started dating, and he never did anything without getting permission first.

he made sure to look at you questionably with his palm turned upward when wanting to hold your hand.

or waiting with his arms out for you to hug him instead of going in himself. 

he just really liked you and never wanted you to feel uncomfortable in the relationship.

but as the months went on and you two began to get a little closer, he couldn’t help but want to do more things with you.

he found himself staring at your lips as you talked way too many times.

resisting the urge to just dive in and place his mouth against yours at that moment.

but he would never instigate it unless he was sure you wanted to as well.

please! give him the hint!

anyways, it was friday.

you and izuku were just chilling in his dorm after a few hours of intense studying. you guys wanted to get all your school work done so you didn’t have to do anything over the weekend.

it was a pretty boring night, and you guys ended up watching a weird pro-wrestling match that just happened to be on the t.v.

“this is so fake.” you giggle, watching the exaggerated movements of the wrestlers. “there’s no way that hurt.”

“i know right. imagine if they went against anyone in our class. they’d be blown to bits!” izuku agrees

“i can’t believe people actually watch this.”

“you’re watching it. aren’t you?”

you side eye your boyfriend at his remark, and silently nudge his shoulder. “i’m right though. you seem interested too.” he teases.

“i’m only watching cause you put it on.” you poke his stomach a few times and he drawls back. “hey! no tickling!” he says, but goes to reach for the space between your shoulder and neck.

you scream, and cover your mouth so no one could hear you outside of the dorm. “please izu! stop it!” you laugh

“what was that n/n? cant hear you over all that giggling.”

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry!” you yell, and after a few seconds, he stops the absolute torture to your neck, and you both fall onto the bed, catching your breaths.

izuku stares at you with a smile, breathing heavily.

he places a hand on your cheek, not really thinking about his actions. you pause, and follow his hand, turning your head towards him.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.”

“thank you. you’re not too bad yourself izuku” you both laugh, staring at each other.

and for a moment, izuku could see your eyes drifting down to his lips.

do something. do something

“y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while now. but i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he suddenly says, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

“i doubt anything you’d say could make me uncomfortable. what is it?”

“can i...” he sighed, trying to slow his heart rate. “may i please kiss you?”

your eyes widened, and you laughed a bit. “you don’t have to ask izuku. we’re in a relationship! i’m totally fine with it.” you smiled and he noticeably calmed down. “oh thank god.” he breathes.

the hand on your cheek lingers down to your jaw, and you see him lean in.

with one more questioning look, you nod giving him permission, and he finally presses his lips against yours.

it’s slow and soft. tender and loving as it feels like time goes in slow motion.

after a few seconds, he pulls away, eyes meeting yours in satisfaction. “thank you, n/n.” he says, before leaning in to peck you again.

denki ⚡️

you and denki always had a weird relationship

you both would flirt with each other, make bashful comments and gave each other slight touches every once in a while.

but you guys never talked about what you actually were.

you were just going with the flow, and you both seemed to be fine with that.

but denki really liked you. like a lot. and he never said anything due to the risk of ruining whatever type of relationship you guys had.

being your friend was better than being nothing to you at all.

sometimes he wished he could just drop everything and tell you his feelings for you, but that was nearly impossible to him

it was up to you to actually initiate something.

it was night time at the dorms, and you had just came from the kitchen after grabbing a drink.

you slowly made your way up to your dorm, but paused when you heard your so-called friend denki’s voice coming from kirishima’s dorm.

“come on guys. you know what we have is nothing serious. why would i mess up a great friendship for some stupid feelings?”

you squinted your eyes, wondering who he was talking about. a slight hope in your heart that it was about you.

“dumbass! y/n clearly likes you too!” you heard bakugo’s voice say, and you nodded harshly in agreement, as if anyone could see you.

“don’t you think we would’ve been i a real relationship by now if they actually did like me?” denki asked, and silence was the only response.

you internally groaned and face palmed your forehead.

how could you be so stupid!?

you liked denki too. you have since you both started talking.

but half of you always thought it was just denki being his usual flirty self. you knew he had a thing for a lot of girls in your class in the past, you didn’t think you were any different.

and you definitely didn’t come up with the idea that he may have wanted to be in a relationship.

what you had just heard shocked you, to say the least. and you made a mental note to talk about it with denki soon.

you were about to walk away from the door when it opened, revealing denki and baguko about to walk out.

all three of you froze, and you see the red haired kirishima on his bed pop his head up from behind the other two boys.

“the hell are you doing here?” bakugo asked gruffly. “just...getting a drink.” you held up your glass of water that was starting to precipitate on the sides.

“h-how much of that did you hear?” denki hesitantly asked.

“enough.” you looked down, embarrassed that you had been caught eavesdropping.

denki stepped in front of bakugo, closer to you, “look y/n i know you probably don’t feel the same. i should’ve told you about my feelings the day we started talking. it’s okay if you don’t want to be friends anymore. i know i made this awkward.”

your eyes widened at denki’s statement and you raised your hand without the cup, shaking it in disagreement. “what no!” you said, making all three boys look at you confused.

“denki...i like you too.” you said, looking up to meet his eyes. “i never told you because i thought you didn’t want anything serious, which is stupid. i should’ve known you weren’t that type of person. i can’t believe i thought you’d break my heart-“

your rant was cut off when you felt a pair of lips crash into yours.

the bright yellow hair that dangled in front of your face let you know it was the boy you had been crushing on for years now.

you closed your eyes, falling into the kiss.

it was kind of quick and a spur of the moment type thing, and when he pulled back, you both were panting.

“you have to idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.” denki said as his thumb swiped across your bottom lip.

“you losers! go get a room!” bakugo yelled from behind denki.

“glady.” the electric boy said with a grin, grabbing you hand and pulling you down the hallways

bakugo 💥

you and bakugo’s relationship was always on the slower paced side.

him being emotionally unattached most of his life and being hard at physical touch made for a lot of long and drawn out first times.

he didn’t hug you until about four weeks after you started dating, when you had come back from a long mission with the hero you were interning

and he never held your hand for more than a minute. he always claimed that it was because his hands were sweaty, but you always noticed how his cheeks turned red anytime you tried to cuddle up next to him.

you knew it was hard for him to be vulnerable around someone, even the people he cared about.

so you respected his decision and didn’t push him into doing anything he didn’t want to.

if that meant no cuddles until you were 4 months into the relationship, then that was the price you’d have to pay.

by the time you reached a half year in your relationship, the most you got from bakugo was a quick peck on your forehead. and that’s if he was being generous.

you always wandered when he would just go right for the bag, and place a fat smooch on your more than ready lips.

ugh. that’ll be the day.

speaking of...

it was the middle of the week. lunchtime.

you were in line, getting a school lunch for yourself because you were too lazy to make it that morning.

while you were waiting in line, whistling to yourself, you heard a familiar and almost menacing voice come from behind you.

“y/n!? is that you? ugh what a grand surprise!” monoma said with his hands held high.

“hello monoma.” you greeted tiredly.

“rumor has it, you and a particular boom boom boy seem to be a thing now.” he says.

“we’ve been a thing for a while monoma.”

“well i couldn’t tell, being the way he rarely interacts with you during the day.”

you rolled your eyes at the comment. sure, monoma was being dramatic as always, but you couldn’t help but feel the truth seeping through his words.

“that’s none of your business monoma.”

“awww did i strike a nerve y/n? i sincerely apologize. although...this might have been a wake up call for you, don’t you think?” he asked disgustingly sweet.

you were about to respond when you heard your boyfriend’s voice come from behind you. “shouldn’t you be with class B you weak, annoying little vermin?” he yelled before looking down at you. “this idiot messing with you babe?”

your eyes widened at the pet name he usually refused to call you, but you were even more surprise when bakugo gripped you chin and turned it so you faced him.

you didn’t have a chance to think before his lips was against yours, his tongue quickly sliding against your bottom lip before he pulled away, pulling on your lip with his teeth for an extra umph.

when you both separated, he looked at monoma with a smug smirk, causing the embarrassed boy to run back to his class.

you still weren’t able to find words as bakugo looked at you again. “that was fun y/n. i should do it more often.”

bakugo you sly dog ;) anyways, all your comments or requests would be greatly appreciated here! ->🥀

and if you happen to reblog, plz give credit. have a good day/night my loves!

[reachgirl]

On Buddie and them potentially being aware of their feelings

So we definitely see evidence of how Eddie might feel about Buck, how he clearly loves and trusts him. He absolutely relies on Buck a lot as someone who loves Christopher, as that person you go to who cares about your kid as much as you do. And he clearly doesn’t handle not having Buck around very well during the storyline that must not be named. 

He also looks at Buck like “you’re lucky you’re pretty”, a LOT. And he’s shown to think about Buck’s wellbeing and Buck’s feelings. For a guy who’s not usually great at ~the talking~, he seems to sense that Buck needs to hear him actually *say* things like that he trusts him, out loud. For Buck, someone who’s been told that he’s reckless and impulsive, not diligent, not reliable (and to be fair to Bobby, has been all those things at times, but is desperate to change that view of himself), to be told that he’s trusted - more than anyone else - with someone’s kid? That’s huge. And Eddie knew that he needed to hear that, he also knew that he needed to feel like part of something when Buck was depressed and hanging around at home after the truck bombing. And Eddie was the one who noticed Buck wasn’t around at the station. For Eddie, the fact that they “have each other’s backs” is so important, because, and it’s insane how this is not wishful thinking on the fandom’s part, he actually tells Shannon that she doesn’t have his back. So yeah, absolutely nobody is disputing that Eddie loves Buck.

And I’ve talked about how I believe that Eddie might be bi leaning towards more into men than women (his “not my type” and aunt pepa’s reaction to buck are the foundation for this theory), and his particular combination of upbringing, experience and location really messing with him admitting that to himself (Conservative religious culture, Texas, army, getting married young because of outside expectations). But many of the scenes we get from him could - FROM THE OUTSIDE - very well just show a guy who has a lot of love and respect (and occasionally some fond exasperation) for his best friend. Possibly more, but not in that active, pining way. Not like he’s truly aware of it, yet.

But Buck? He pretty much always looks at Eddie like he’s the best thing that has happened to him, ever, and he can’t believe his luck of getting to be around this man. The smile he constantly gives him, and - in seasons 2 and 3 - only him, is the actual “I want to sleep with you smile” from season 1 Buck. I don’t make the rules.

He constantly finds ways to help him out, reads up on things he knows Eddie is interested in or things that are for some reason something Eddie is dealing with (whether it’s baseball biographies or summer camp brochures), and absolutely always looks to him for approval anytime he does something well or remotely badass. Or even when he makes a joke. It’s almost like 95% of the stuff he does, he does so that Eddie will see.

He sees himself as part of Eddie’s family to the point of not feeling like he’s a guest at their house, he has proven he would actually die for Chris, and he spends much of his free time finding ways of making Chris, the most important person in Eddie’s life, happy. He shares in both the happy and the difficult parts of raising Chris, he gets involved in school problems, and he’s there for Eddie to talk through all the little things that come up when you’re a parent. Often times, with single parents, when the other parent isn’t around, the problem is that there’s nobody else in your life who shares the same love and enthusiasm or worry you have for your child. You could talk about everything relating to them for hours, but even the best meaning friends will at some point reach the limit of how interested they are. Not so with Buck.

But unlike Eddie, Buck is also aware, to a point, of how much he’s focused on Eddie. Where Eddie’s jealousy comes across as more spur-of-the-moment, not something he’s even aware of, Buck seems like.. he’s thought about how he feels about Eddie. Others definitely have. Maddie’s comment about his “man crush” aside, even a random christmas elf (long may she live) comments on it. Hen and Karen immediately agree Buck would invite Eddie, like, Karen knows about this even. Their reaction when Buck is acting irrational over how they might get Eddie out when he’s buried alive and most likely dead already is that reaction of “Oh fuck, this will break this person” that is usually reserved for the significant other or parent. Bobby definitely reacts to Buck in relation to Eddie the way a father would, carefully weighing being amused at how obvious he’s being, and concern over not wanting him to get hurt doing something stupid trying to save Eddie, or by falling for him when it might not be reciprocated. They all know that Buck’s a little (more than) smitten with Eddie. And Buck... of course he’s going to notice how his friends and family react. I think he’s been aware of it for a while and is constantly trying to navigate and balance this. 

Of course he hasn’t told his face about balancing anything at all yet, because look at that man’s face any time he looks at Eddie, look at that scene with the medal. He absolutely can’t help it. And sometimes it’s like he wants them to pick up on it - for example, pushing Maddie on the fact that he doesn’t consider himself a guest. And that’s completely understandable, sometimes you want people to pick up on something and maybe even comment on it (because their reaction reaffirms to you that maybe you’re not crazy) while also not wanting attention on that point. People are complicated like that. And Buck may be a himbo, but he’s complicated AF.

We get Buck being really weird about Eddie and Shannon in general - right off the bat. When Shannon shows up at the station and she and Eddie talk, Buck’s in the background and overhears that they’re sleeping together. He clearly struggles with this information, (and Chim possibly notices..) then he get’s real petty about them potentially getting married again (”Maybe you can get a discount”) - and he nopes out of the situation as quickly as he can - because he doesn’t want to risk saying anything snarky.

Then Chim and Buck go christmas tree shopping, and Chim comments on how Buck can’t let Eddie’s situation with Shannon go, and it’s true, he can’t stop himself. But when Eddie asks him for advice in front of the fountain (/metaphorical water penis as I like to call it), he’s suddenly all “I didn’t think it was my business” ... ok, sure, Buck. Then he basically tells Eddie to try and make it work with Shannon. In terms of character development, in a romance, this is the part where person A wants to be with person B but doesn’t think they have a chance, so makes the choice to try and settle for being their friend, which, heartbreakingly, involves pushing them into the arms of someone else.

Also, his kind of “oversharing” of Eddie’s situation with Ana to the rest of the team is, to me, a pretty clear indicator that the topic makes him uncomfortable and he’s trying a Ross Geller-I’m making Fajitas- “let’s show everyone how very completely normal I feel about this” approach, which.. it doesn’t.. work that well. And when does this ever work, it’s super easy to see through this, and it usually just serves to draw more attention to the fact that you’re uncomfortable with whatever is being discussed.

Buck also takes everything Eddie says to heart. Like, fucking takes it and will not let go of it. Half a season after Eddie tells him that he makes everything about himself, he breaks down telling Maddie he’s worried he’s making the situation with the old firefighter about himself again. During the kitchen scene (or “The actual how-to-guide of what to do when you thought the guy you have a crush on doesn’t reciprocate but then you have a fight and he really doesn’t handle being away from you so well so you kind of might as well see where being a little more openly flirty will get you”), Buck’s clearly thought about Eddie’s words from the grocery store fight, and he’s gonna call Eddie out. And maybe do other stuff.

Looking at what the writers are actually doing, to end the season, there’s the clawing at dirt of it all, Buck falling apart when Eddie’s buried alive. Buck being in almost all of Eddie’s memories when he’s close to dying. And Maddie’s comment about not wanting to set Josh up with Buck, which is innocent enough, but why throw that in on top of all of the above, if not because maybe what we’re actually looking at is that they’re setting up a sexuality crisis for Buck, and him realizing he’s maybe into Eddie, but Eddie not actually reciprocating (yet)? And say Buck is then somehow forcefully pushed to see the truth about how he feels, maybe by, i don’t know, coming across TK and/or Carlos on a call, and one of them asking him how long him and Eddie have been together? We might get Eddie with Ana, and a very long, drawn out process of Buck realizing what’s happening and trying to leave them alone, and Eddie being really confused about why Buck’s being like that. Then we would have two options (well, more, really, but these are two I like): 1) Eddie pushing Buck on that point and demanding an explanation and Buck just coming out with it because fuck it and sorry and please let me see Chris still 2) Buck’s sexuality crisis (or not crisis, if he’s always been pan/bi, which, look, nothing I’ve seen has disproven this theory) leading to him dating a guy and Eddie getting really jealous but not actually being aware of the fact what he feels is jealousy (because he doesn’t realize how he feels about Buck, see this whole essay you just read), and Buck being the one who confronts Eddie about why he’s being such a homophobic asshole about this, and Eddie straight up kissing him because he can’t not anymore.