#he tried to bite all of the shop workers as they put him in the box to take home

[verstappen-cult]

oscar and reader meet-cute type thing. like he spills his coffee on her and the relationship stems from their

You scribble the name of another customer on a cup before placing it on the counter, immediately going back to serve another customer.

"Hi," You hear a male voice, brown eyes looking at you from behind round glasses. You've seen him before. Countless times. However, you still don't know his name. He always ask for a lemon pie and chai latte, and sits at the same table near the window.

"Hey," You reply with a smile on your face. The one you have reserved for your favorite customers; like the old lady from across the street who comes in every day for an early cup of tea, or the couple that likes to work sitting by the counter and are always chatting away with you and your co-workers as you spend the day making coffee. "the usual?"

Then, he smiles, the pad of his fingers touching the frame of his glasses to avoid them from falling. "Oh… yes, please."

"I'll bring it to you." He nods, a faint blush covering his cheeks. And just like that turns around and walks to his favorite table, pulls out a book and waits.

You prepare his order, along with a few more. Once it is ready you walk around the corner, even though one of your co-workers is in charge of bringing orders to the customers, you want to be the one bringing this one to this stranger.

He looks up at you when sees you approaching, the same blush of earlier adorning his cheeks.

“Thank you.” He says with that charming smile which you return. But as you’re going to walk away, his next words stop you from doing so. “I wanted to formally apologise.” He avoids looking at you and it’s cute.

“There’s really no need.” You try to reassure him, but he shakes his head and puts the book down. “It was not your fault. It was an accident.”

“But still,” He bites the inside of his cheek and this time looks directly into your eyes. “I’m not that clumsy, it’s just that—”

You place a hand on his shoulder and he follows the movement. “These things happen. And thank god it was iced coffee that time.”

The stranger laughs, finally relaxing. “I’m sorry, really, really sorry.”

“Well, I might forgive you if you tell me your name.”

“Oscar.” He is quick to say. “I was trying to ask you something the other day… when that happened.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You’re bold enough to sit on the chair in front of him, forgetting all about your job for a few minutes. “But you ran out of here before I could ask you about it, Oscar”

“I didn’t ran.” He tries to defend himself, which only makes you giggle like a schoolgirl. “Whatever,” Oscar rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the tea. You try very hard not to lock at the way he licks his lips. You fall miserably, of course. “I was trying to ask you if you would be interested in going out? With me, I mean.”

It’s your turn to blush and avoid the eye contact. You really thought he was just being nice, like most of the customers are, but now you realise he was actually flirting with you. And well, you’re not exactly the smartest when it comes to boys and the dating life.

“You really wanna go out with me?”

Oscar tilts his head to the side and a smirk shows up on his face. “Why would I come every week if I don’t even live or work in this side of the city?” Your eyes widen at his confession. You thought he lived nearby and that’s why he spent his time in the coffee shop.

“For me?” There’s disbelief in your words.

Oscar tries to look nonchalant, and shrugs. “I’m not the smartest, okay? It took me spilling my coffee on you to gather the courage to ask you out.”

You play with a strand of your hair and stand up, not really wanting to leave him. “Well, I’ll accept to go on a date with you if you promise not to spill anything on me.” Oscar laughs, lifting his hands in surrender.

“I promise to behave.” And he says it with such an innocent look on his face that it makes you feel something weird in your belly.

“My shift ends in an hour, if you want to wait for me.”

You don’t wait for his answer, but when you’re finally free and gathering your things to leave, Oscar is still sitting on his favorite table, waiting for you.

[miley1442111]

cookies-a.hotchner

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a/n: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 1000 FOLLOWERS, Y'ALL MEAN SO MUCH TO ME I CAN'T BEGIN TO EXPLAIN IT!!!!

summary: you're the cute barista he sees everyday.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem barista reader

warnings: fluff, mentions of sa, aaron is a cutie in this, sorry if this doesn't make sense, i was studying german all day and idk if I have the patience to re-write this :)

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Aaron’s nervousness grew as he stepped closer and closer to the counter. Aaron Hotchner was not a man to be anxious, nervous, or shy when it came to speaking to people, even new people. Aaron Hotchner was a confident, intelligent man who was very important and powerful in both his personal and work life. 

So why was he so nervous to speak to the cute barista he saw every morning?

In his defence, you were drop-dead gorgeous. Aaron loved everything about you, your hair, your style, your face, your lips (he spent a lot of time looking at them), and everything about you. You were so interesting, so nice, and very good at making him a good cup of coffee. 

“Aaron! How are you today?” You asked, a smile on your face as he got to the top of the queue. 

“I’m fine thank you, how are you?” he smiled. Good, I got through the first sentence. 

“I’m great! It’s so nice out today,” you mentioned the weather everyday without fail, Aaron smiled and agreed with whatever positive outlook you had, even on the gloomiest of days. 

“It is,” he nodded. 

“The usual?” you asked, getting a cup ready. 

“Please,” he nodded. “And one of the cookies please.”

You stopped your writing on the cup to look up at him. “A cookie? I wouldn’t have put you down for a cookie guy, Aaron.”

“It’s not for me, my son loves the cookies from your shop,” he admitted, since he’d brought Jack here on your day off (yes, he had your schedule memorised. You worked Mondays to Fridays between 7am and 1pm, Saturday off, then on Sundays you worked the closing shift), and he’d enjoyed the cookie quite a lot. 

Your eyes flickered with something like… disappointment, but it was immediately replaced with your signature smile. “Any specific one?” You asked, eyes moving from him to the display case. 

“The red one, he loves spiderman,” he decided after a moment of deliberation. 

“A man after my own heart,” you smiled, and bagged the cookie, giving him a soft goodbye as he waited for his drink and cookie down by the other side of the till. 

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Your co-worker gave you a sad smile as you deflated. Your cute regular, Aaron, was obviously married with children, who wouldn’t want to make him a dad? Who wouldn’t want to give him anything he wants forever? He was just so handsome and so sweet and so-

You get the point. 

You were smitten with a married man you had no chance with. Sigh. 

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Saturday 4pm

Aaron walked in with Jack’s hand in his and the rest of the BAU team behind him. He was in his marathon wear, after just running the town's marathon. The shop was practically empty, it probably had something to do with the time and the fact that they were giving out free food at the finish line. But Aaron wanted nothing more than to b-line it straight to your cafe and get a latte and a cookie (he tried a bite of Jack’s and he very much enjoyed it).

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The bell above the door rang and you put on your best customer service face to be met with Penelope Garcia. Your sister’s friend from college that visits every summer. 

“Pen?” you smiled 

“Y/n!” she squealed, opening her arms for a hug. You came out from behind the counter to hug her.

“How are you?” You asked as the rest of the group looked at the two of you. 

“I’m so amazing! I cannot believe your sister didn’t tell me you opened the cafe?!” She practically scolded. 

“Don’t be too hard on her, she doesn’t exactly… know,” you chuckled uncomfortably as Penelope’s face fell. 

“Why wouldn’t she know?” She whispered, turning you both away from the prying eyes of the group. 

“She… she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore,” you shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Why? What happened?” 

“After the… after Ryan did, y’know, what he did, she told me she believed his version and not mine. C’est la vie,” you sighed, picking at your nails as you explained. 

“What?!” Penelope was practically crying. “That’s awful!” “I’m fine,” you chuckled, going back behind the counter. “Now, what can I get you?”

“I have the order written down, it’s a lot,” a tall man from the group offered. 

“Sounds great,” you smiled at him. He handed you over a piece of paper with various drink orders and food orders and you started working on them right away, since you were the only one working that day too. Penelope paid, and watched over you as the group chatted about various cases and congratulated Aaron on his performance. She soon realised she wasn’t the only one watching you, Aaron’s eyes were firmly planted on either you, or Jack. 

Interesting. 

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As you brought over all the drinks, you finally let yourself look at Aaron. 

Fuck, he looked good in a t-shirt and running shorts. It was becoming unfair. 

There were three women on the team. Penelope, not his wife for sure- she was dating Kevin. A blonde woman, showing photos of her kids to the group and sitting far away from Aaron- not his wife. A brunette woman who was gorgeous who sat right beside him, but there was no physical contact- maybe his wife? You couldn’t tell. 

As the night wore on and they started trickling out, you were left alone with Aaron for a split second. While clearing their table, you accidentally knocked into him and spilt coffee on his shirt. 

“Shit, I am so sorry!” You immediately apologised and Aaron just stared at you with this dazed look for a second, then smiled. 

“It’s fine, I promise,” he nodded, but you felt awful. 

“Please let me get you some tissue or something Aaron,” you pleaded, bringing the cups over to the till before running to grab some tissue paper, not even waiting for his response. 

“It’s really not a big-” Aaron started but you hushed him, trying to get some of the coffee off of his shirt. He stared down at you as you worked, muttering soft apologies and sighs or annoyance at your carelessness. “Can I ask you out to dinner?” He blurted out, not even thinking. God, his head felt so hazy when he was around you. 

You slowly looked up in shock. “Pardon?”

“I’m asking you out,” he repeated. 

“But don’t you have a wife-?”

“She and I got divorced a while ago. I get Jack- my son- on the weekends,” he explained. 

“Oh, then in that case, yes please,” you smiled. “I’d love to go out.”

“Good,” he smiled, then he turned quite serious. “I promise to just move things at your speed, I overheard what you and Penelope were talking about,” he sighed. “You’ll call all of the shots, I promise.”

Your heart swelled. He was a gentleman, a dad, and a lovely person? How could you be more lucky? “Thank you, that means a lot.”

Aaron walked out of the coffee shop, a large stain on his white shirt, but a date too, so he really didn’t mind.

He also didn't mind the teasing he got from Penelope on the way home.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 20th-26th 2025

On time this week, woohoo! And less thsan 40 days until season 8B !!

Special mention to all of @tizniz's drabbles that I've been reblogging, which you can find on her tumblr or on ao3 at E & E: A Buddie Drabble Collection !

Let me know if I'm missing a tag for someone!

Complete

home is where you've called my name by atlasblue85/ @atlasblue85 (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 3K | General): Buck plays a game with himself. It goes something like this: for every house Eddie outright rejects, he adds an item to his list of why Eddie shouldn't move to El Paso. He doesn't know what the threshold is, that magic number that will make him finally speak up and express his thoughts to Eddie, but until he finds it, this is how he's coping. They're up to nine so far. Nine perfectly good houses, nine reasons Eddie shouldn't go.

you're a dog (i'm your man) by withmeornotatall / @chronicowboy (Dog Shelter AU | 3K | General): "Hey." He turns around, leans against the doorframe, tries to look casual. "Maybe, only if you're free of course, you could come round and let Chris pick out a band aid for you tonight. Don't want you bleeding out before you can get your Spider-Man band aid." Buck lights up like the fucking sun. Oh no. Eddie has one rule: never take a dog home. But he thinks Buck might be worth the risk. (OR: eddie is a dog trainer with patience, buck is a shelter worker with more bark than bite)

🔥 My Mouth Don't Move When I'm In Too Deep by taegyungie (PWP, Semi-Public Sex | 7K | Explicit): But here’s the thing: Eddie’s taken giant mouthfuls of life and chewed every last one of them up. He’s taken enough, he’s still taking enough - he doesn’t want to be the one to ask for it. All he can do is offer himself up, over and over, and hope that Buck will finally get the hint and dig his claws into what’s been his from the very start.

🔥 Five Years by aubrey_writes (Blip AU | 8K | Mature): Buck gets blipped. Eddie's left behind. A love story told through what Eddie did in his absence.

Liminal Space by ameliahart (NDE, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie Diaz dies on a sunny afternoon in January. It seems fitting, he thinks, that it should happen like this: trapped beneath three floors of a collapsed apartment building, a piece of rebar through his right lung, and his eyes on the love of his life. Because of course Buck is here with him, watching horrified as Eddie’s love and life bleed out around him.

Buck, Bedbugged and Bewildered by writedontfight (Post-S8A AU | 8K | Explicit): Buck gets bedbugs, so he's staying at Eddie's until they're gone.

🔥 everything you need (put all you need in me) by jaekyu (PWP, FWB | 9K | Explicit): Eddie imagines it. The faux-domesticity of grocery shopping with his best friend and full-time fuckbuddy, filled up with come like a jam donut or something. It would be kind of ironic. It would be definitely, wholeheartedly, totally erotic.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys by paleredheadinascifi (Amnesia, Post-S8A | 10K | Teen): Eddie wakes up five years in the future. It turns out five years is all it takes to ruin a friendship and run your life into the ground. Or, Eddie gets hurt and his apparently now ex-best friend Buck hops on a plane to El Paso. They figure out what the fuck happened together.

🔥 Firelight by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Post-S7, Monster Eddie, HOH Buck | 61K | Explicit): When, in the worst of missing Christopher, Eddie suddenly finds himself having literally turned into a monster, Buck - who is also dealing with a newfound hearing loss diagnosis - is willing to do anything to protect him. Even from himself. OR: Eddie is a creature from Swedish folklore, feat. HOH!Buck

WIP

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 35/? | 23K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

35. 44. A goodbye kiss, but neither of you can quite let go 

🔥 An Angry Blade by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-8x05: Masks, Cursed Buck | 1/6 | 8K | Mature): Buck finds out that the curse of Billy Boils is VERY real, and far more complicated and dangerous than he could have expected.

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 12/? | 76K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 8/? | 37K | Teen): Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

Podfic

Sunlight is Fire (Burning is a Matter of Degrees) by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Incubbi Buck, FWB | 1-1.5h | Explicit): In the wake of Buck's leg injury, Eddie learns that his friend needs some unusual methods to help him recover. Eddie's willing to do whatever it takes to help Buck, and it's not like this could make his quiet pining any worse, right?

Bed Sharing Concerto in Monsterfucking No. 3 by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolf Eddie, Human Buck, Only One Bed | 10-20min | Explicit): Buck has the worst fucking luck. His only consolation here is that Eddie’s with him, so at least he’s not alone in a cabin with no Wifi, no central heat, no cell service, and no proper winter gear. The water works, the pipes haven’t frozen (yet) so at least he can get briefly clean. He’s so focused on scrubbing the day away that it’s not until he gets out and heads into the bedroom that he realizes— There’s only one bed.

A Chorus of Howls by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolves, PWP | 10-20min | Explicit): Buck is running through the woods. He’s on two feet, four, two again, dodging around trees, kicking up dirt, leaping and landing hard. Behind him, sometimes, he thinks he can hear another set of feet—a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, black on black, shadow on shadow— There. There. He can smell his pursuer’s blood and he runs faster, fast as he can. He’s not going to lose. His blood is up and running and so is he.

Duet for Two Monsters by Favourite_alias // fic by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Werewolf Eddie, Succubus Buck | 20-30min | Explicit): Buck’s been meaning to tell Eddie for a while, now. Especially now that they’re both single again. He needs to tell Eddie, because he’s pretty sure—he thinks he’s sure—that Eddie loves him back. And he won’t be intimate with Eddie without telling him. Of course, it’s a bit hard to start that conversation, on a logistical level. Hey so I have horns and a tail and feed off people’s orgasms, fun, right?

🔥 [Podfic] Buddie, It's Cold Outside by diazaster287 // fic by terranobis (Christmas, Hallmark AU | 1-1.5h | Not Rated): Big City businessman Evan Buckley travels to a small town Christmas Village in an attempt to save his personal and professional life, but when he meets the local father Eddie Diaz, he finds that he just might get the greatest present he could ever ask for.

[mysingularitybts]

Put Your Records On

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Yoongi x Human! F. Reader (you)

Genre: smut, fluff, strangers 2 lovers, hybrid!au, 18+

Appearances: Bunny!Jungkook, Fox!Jin, Human!Hoseok, Panther! Taehyung, Human! Jimin, Wolf! Namjoon

Word Count: ~30k

Warnings/tags: hybryd au! (there will be mentions of scenting, heats, and that sort of thing) let's start light with cursing, oral (f, m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, light biting, breeding, fingering, m. masturbation, light voyeurism, oral (m2m), cum play, there's probably some other stuff i missed or simply refuse typing out here lol

a/n: this was supposed to be a small thing and then it evolved into what it is today (half plot half porn). i knew i was obsessed with kitty yoongi i just never realized i was this obsessed. this oneshot made me write things i never thought id write, it pushed me to my limits but I'm pretty proud of it. i hope you guys like it... there is so much smut also grammarly is a pain in my ass

○●○●○●○●○●

Like every morning for the past seven years, Yoongi walks to work with hands in his pockets and earbuds in his ears. The music blasting out of them does nothing to dampen the city noise as the extra pair of ears at the top of his head catches them. One of the downsides of being a hybrid, a cat one, to be precise.

Like every morning, he stops in front of a tall, glass-lined building that glimmers under the rising sun, and as always, he curses it out in his head (or under his breath) for ruining his dream. The same one that began when he first learned the purpose of the building. To become a music producer. He scowls at it for a whole minute before continuing to his destination. A minute a day is all the time he allows himself to rain on his parade.

He proceeds to walk to the small music shop tucked between a coffee shop and a comic book store. He unlocks the door fitfully, having to jiggle the keys expertly. There’s no chance of anyone stealing from the store when he can barely open the door himself. Turning on the stereo with the music of a new upcoming artist, he organizes anything he might’ve left out of place the night before and cleans the counters.

It’s become a routine for Yoongi to wake up, scowl at the glass building, go to work, endure people’s discrimination towards hybrids, close the store, go home, and go to sleep. He’s gotten so used to the repetition that when he has free time on Sundays, he feels at a loss on what to do. He’s tried opening the store those days, but then Lee, the closest thing to a father figure he has, would just get mad at him for not resting.

It’s not unusual for him to get new customers. Still, they are always the same sort of people, music students or hipsters who want to try and be cool with their indie music. Today though, he feels something change when a blue-haired girl walks into the store for the first time. The bell jingles at the top of the door as you walk in, looking around the store before beelining to the aisle labeled ‘vinyl.’ Yoongi follows you with his eyes as his tail swishes behind him in curiosity.

You’d heard of this store from a co-worker and thought it would be the perfect place to find a gift for your brother, who’s recently started a vinyl collection. You rummage through the bins trying to find anything he might like but what you see is barely anything you’ve heard of before.

Yoongi stares at you without approaching you; he usually lets the customer decide if they need help. He’s lost count of how many times people have told him they don’t need the help of a hybrid. But as you move into the third bin of vinyl out of the few dozen in the store, he decides to make a move, or you’ll be here for hours.

“What are you looking for?” he asks straight to the point.

You look up, startled, not having heard him approach you. You can’t help but stare, not because he’s a hybrid but because he must be one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life. Yoongi doesn’t take it that way, as he believes you’re judging him for what he is. Instantly his cat ears pin back, and his eyes narrow.

“Well?” He prompts rudely.

“Sorry, um…Yoongi.” You say, squinting to read his name tag, “I’m looking for a vinyl for my brother as a birthday gift.” You look at him nervously as you feel him judge your entire being, wishing you had worn more makeup today and not stained your sweater during lunch.

“Anything in specific you’re searching for? What is his music taste?” Yoongi asks, bored.

“He likes electro-pop.”

Yoongi nods and directs you further down the aisle, he organized the bins himself, and you were looking in all the wrong places. You should've noticed the signs hanging above the bins designating the music genre.

“You were searching in the jazz area. This is electro-pop,” Yoongi points out.

Blushing at your stupidity, you thank him and continue to search for a good artist your brother will like. Yoongi hums in acknowledgment and makes his way back to the cash register, waiting for you to finish and ringing out other customers.

As you shift through the albums, you look up occasionally to look at the hybrid called Yoongi. He sits on a wooden stool, staring out the window. The sun hits his pale face, making him look ethereal. If she was braver, she’d ask him out, but she knows there’s no way he’d like her back. He certainly didn’t show it when he helped her.

Finally, seeing more artists you recognize, you settle on two vinyls for your gift. You walk around the store seeing as it’s your first time in it, and you stop to look at accessories for production closer to the counter. Your eyes roam the equipment, and your hand urges you to touch it. You hold back because you don’t need anything right now. Wanting and needing are two different things you need to be conscious about.

Carefully placing the vinyls on the counter, you wait for Yoongi to ring the items up. He barely looks at you as he tells you the total. That’s okay, though, as it allows you to stare at him more discreetly; you are in awe of this man with his glossy dark hair and pink pout. How could you have formed a crush on a man who has only spoken five words to you?

Yoongi looks up at the lack of response, only to find you staring at him. He frowns deeply, disturbed by the situation. Her staring differs from the people who point at his ears or make off-hand comments, yet he can’t point out why.

“Hello?” He snaps to call her attention.

“Sorry,” you flinch, a blush covering your cheeks, contrasting the blue in your hair.

“Hope you’re brother likes them,” Yoongi tells her, putting both records in a bag.

“Thanks, me too,” you stutter out with a smile.

You promptly pay and leave the store. Outside you slap yourself on the forehead for being so awkward in the presence of Yoongi. Caught up reprimanding yourself, you fail to notice Yoongi staring at you from the window with a quirk on his lips.

Yoongi thinks you’re a little odd but pays you no mind. He believed you’d be more confident with hair like yours, in reality, you’re a little ditsy. It’s cute. You smelled good, too, not that he meant to smell you, but it’s hard not to with his heightened sense of smell. You smelled like chocolates and something florally yet not overwhelming.

To a hybrid, scents are everything they can tell a lot about a person, although sometimes they can be misled. Their smells can sense a person’s mood and overall persona. A handy thing to have when dealing with people who constantly discriminate against hybrids. Times might have changed, and hybrids might have their freedom now, but it can’t erase years of slavery and mistreatment.

○●○●○●○●○●

You keep returning to the store for the next month just to see Yoongi. You didn't know it back then, but now you know he's the only one that works in the store. At first, you would buy little things to have excuses to go there, then you started to leave empty-handed happy to have seen your 'kitty cat' as you've nicknamed him in your head. At around the third week of returning, he asked for your name. You stuttered it out as his response surprised you.

"That name doesn't suit you," he said, staring at you fixedly, "I'll just call you Blue."

"Very creative, Yoongi," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

And while Yoongi is unemotional, most of the time, you've been learning how to read him. A flick of his cat ears, the swishing of his tail, the way his nose scrunches up unbeknownst to him, or the way his mouth quirks up at the side. It all means different things, and you're starting to catch up, so when he sighs, shaking his head at your words, you know he's amused.

Yoongi has gotten used to seeing you every week. Unlike many of his customers, he'd greet you with a 'good morning' and send you off with a 'careful on the way home.' When you don't come to the store in more than a week, he finds himself worried, and as another week ends with no signs of you, he becomes slightly upset. Maybe he did something to upset you. He wants to know if you are okay or if there is anything wrong, but he comes up empty-handed.

He spends his Sunday sulking in his apartment. When he visits Lee, the old man notices instantly. He is delighted Yoongi is like this over a girl. He's been waiting too long for his boy to open up and get a girlfriend. Yoongi shuts it down almost instantly and clears up that you're only a customer. A friendly customer…

Monday morning bright and early, the bell of the shop jingles, and your scent wafts to Yoongi's nose, who is in the back getting more stock. He leaves the boxes behind as he rushes to the front. "Morning, Yoongi," you greet him with a bright smile.

"You didn't come last week, Blue," Yoongi frowns, his pout very apparent and his ears twitching in annoyance, "I was worried."

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize," I was out of town."

You hate to admit that you are happy he noticed your absence. Yoongi considers you a friend! Now you have to fulfill the promise you made to yourself. This is the perfect opportunity to ask him out. If he was worried about you, it meant he cared! If only a little.

"How about I make it up to you?" You ask slowly, looking up at him with hope in your eyes. For an extra measure, you use the advice of a friend and put your hair behind your ear to seem cuter.

"And how are you going to do that?" He asks stoically, crossing his arms.

"Let me take you out to this coffee shop on Sunday. They have local artists playing music. And before you say no because of the shop, I know it's your day off," You rush through your words before he rejects the idea.

Yoongi is surprised at your idea of making it up to him, and it shows on his face. He's unsure of what to say but gauging the fact he spent his Sunday worrying over nothing, he accepts. "Alright, you're paying, though."

"Yeah, of course!" You say excitedly, which gets Yoongi smiling.

Despite seeing each other for many weeks, you hadn't had a reason to exchange numbers until now. He writes his phone number on your phone, and you can't resist having his contact as 'Kitty Cat,' not that he notices. If he did, you were sure he would be dramatic about it. Opening the camera app, you tell him to smile, it takes a few tries, but eventually, he settles and shoots the camera a half smile.

Yoongi does the same with you. After writing down your number, he assigns the contact as 'Blue' and snaps a picture of you. Only he didn't ask you to smile; he only called your name and snapped it. You beg him to change it, but he laughs and shoots down the idea. The picture he took got your essence to a tee. While you thought it was atrocious, he thought you looked cute with the wide-eyed stare and everlasting smile on your face. Your messy baby hairs and fluffy sweater only added to your charm.

That Sunday, Yoongi waits for you by the train station. He bites his nails as he waits, a nervous habit he can never get rid of. After accepting going out with you, he began wondering if this was a date. You never specified what it was for you. Yoongi has noticed your stares and how you hang on to every word he says. He also might've heard you speaking about him on the phone outside the store about how cute he was and how he made you giddy.

He's never really been in a relationship, and he's not sure he wants one, either. It's not like he's never been attracted to someone or had his flings, but they've all been with other hybrids, not a full human. He believes he knows you and you have the best intentions, but he's guarded. In the past, he's dealt with humans that are great at first until their true colors show, and they turn into the worst. It's hard getting over his trauma.

With lots of second thoughts, Yoongi is about to bolt from the train station. His fight or flight kicked in over the whole situation. It's one thing to see you around the store, but everything will change once he breaks the barrier and starts seeing you outside of it.

It's too late as you spot him in the train station and wave at him. "Hey, Yoongi!" You chirp, giving him a hug in greeting.

"Are you okay?" You place a hand on his shoulder. You noticed when you were nearing him that he was tense and fidgety. His tail is flat against his body, unlike how it usually swishes around him. Maybe he's not feeling up to the plans for today.

"All good, lead the way!" He responds with a nod and a small smile.

Yoongi is uncomfortable as you walk side by side on the sidewalk. The coffee shop is on the other side of town, in a nicer part of town, to be exact. As a teenager, he never had a great experience in these places where people with money think they can ask for anything with the right amount of money from a poor homeless hybrid. The sad part is sometimes he was so desperate that he agreed to their requests. He's not proud, but he did what he had to survive, and now he's in a better place.

The coffee place barely resembles a coffee place. Inside are tables gathered around a small stage; where the coffee usually sits, there is alcohol instead. When Yoongi points it out, you mention that it's a fully functioning coffee place during the day, and at night it shifts to a speakeasy.

"Where would you like to sit?" You ask Yoongi sweetly, thinking about the speakers that might bother him if you sit too close.

"Over here is okay," Yoongi says, leading you to a table near the back.

You notice the speakers don't point directly at the table. You're proud of yourself for thinking about his heightened sense of hearing. There is silence when you sit at the table. Internally, you're banging your head against the table for not thinking of something to talk about ahead of time. You want to talk to him and get to know him. How do you start, though?

Yoongi, on the other hand, is perfectly happy in the silence. He's never felt the need to make unnecessary conversations. After inspecting the room, he looks at you. You look beautiful today. Your blue hair is nicely curled, with little strands framing your face. You're wearing a fluffy blue sweater that fades into white and pink that begs him to touch it and a black mini skirt. Overall, very cute. He tried to say it while you walked to the coffee shop, but his mouth didn't cooperate, leading him down a different route.

There was a question burning his tongue. A matter of what situation they are in right now. It all started as a way to make it up to him, but he can't help but feel there's more to it. Although he thought of running before, he's concluded that a date would be okay. He's in control of his life now, and if he wants something to stop, he can say it.

"Blue?" He breaks the silence; you had been looking at the stage where the first performer was setting up.

"Yes?" You smile at him gently, waiting for his question. He loved that about you, just how patient and soft you are.

"What is this?" he asks, pointing his finger between the two of you. Upon noticing your confusion, he adds, "Is this a date or just an outing of two friends?"

Your cheeks instantly flare up. Maybe you hadn't made it as obvious as you thought, "I was hoping this would be a date."

Yoongi nods at your words and gives you a small smile, "I was too."

A waiter eventually approaches the table, taking both of your drink orders. A casual conversation then erupts between the two of you. You learn that he's been working at the store for nearly ten years. In exchange, you talk about one of your hobbies, photography.

"I never asked but did your brother like the vinyl?" Yoongi wonders, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"He loved them. Turns out I know his taste pretty well," you giggle, remembering your brother's excitement over the records. He had all but jumped into your arms in a big hug. "He mentioned visiting the store one of these days to get more."

"Does he live around the area?"

"Yes! He's currently in the university nearby," You chirp, mixing your cocktail. Your foundation may hide most of your imperfections, but it can't hide the flush of the alcohol.

"Good for him," Yoongi replies in surprise. That's one expensive and prestigious university. It makes him wonder about your family and what they do; he refrains. That's a subject for another day.

Yoongi had misjudged the coffee shop earlier. He thought the performers would be pretentious people who thought they knew about music. He'd also thought they would all be humans. But as the performers go on, he notices most of them are hybrids, and the people at the tables around them are too. "How did you find this place?"

"One of my friends works here, and the other will perform later."

Jung Hoseok is one of your great friends. You two used to work together until he decided he needed a break from everything some months ago. Next thing you know, he's managing a coffee shop and hosting music shows.

"Actually, I think I see him now," you say, waving your hand delicately toward Hoseok. Yoongi looks in his direction and sees a handsome man with a bright smile. It makes him insecure.

"I'm so glad you're here, sweetheart," Hoseok exclaims, approaching the table and leaning down to hug you, "Who is this?" He asks with a twinkle in his eyes. Hoseok had already heard everything about the cute, brooding hybrid cat.

"This is, Yoongi, my date," you say, "Yoongi, this is Hoseok, the friend I just told you about."

"Nice to meet you." Yoongi shakes the man's hand firmly.

"Don't forget about me," a deep voice says from behind Hoseok.

If Yoongi thought Hoseok was handsome, he is at a loss for words to describe the man or, rather, the hybrid that pops up beside him. The panther hybrid swoops in to hug you, too, whispering in your ear how gorgeous you look. It angers Yoongi that he couldn't say it beforehand because it means he is not the reason for the blooming blush that covered most of your face and neck.

"This is Taehyung," Hoseok introduces the panther hybrid, "Tae, this is her date, Yoongi."

Hoseok and Taehyung try very hard to hide their curiosity and glee. They've wanted to meet Yoongi for weeks, so they were ecstatic when you told them you'd bring him around. They were spying on you from the back, where Taehyung was using his heightened hearing to translate your conversation.

"You're going to perform tonight?" Yoongi asks the panther.

"It's my first time. I'm a little nervous," Taehyung responds, fidgeting with his hands.

"You'll be okay; you've practiced so much," You reassure him, reaching for his hand.

"Thanks, honey," Tae smiles at you.

"We'll leave you two to your date. I gotta go present the next performer," Hoseok says, pulling Tae away from the table, whispering in his ear to tone it down before he scares Yoongi away.

Yoongi finds them both pleasant, even if Taehyung is touchy with you. It's like there was something between the two of you. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, though, so he ignores it for now.

As another performer finishes, you stand from the table, "I need to speak to Hoseok for a moment. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

His eyes follow you discreetly, watching as you speak to Hoseok. It appears as if the conversation is serious as Hoseok's smile drops. Yoongi focuses as much as he can on listening to the conversation, but it's hard when the new singer on the stage picks up the ante and strums the guitar louder. He can make out your lips as you say 'please,' but Hoseok only shakes his head no and says what Yoongi believes is an apology.

When you return, you smile at him as if nothing has happened. The rest of the show plays out. You pay as promised and head out into the cold night. Yoongi wants to bring up your conversation with Hoseok, but that's not his place. Besides, it seemed like it troubled you, and he didn't want to ruin the night.

"Did you like the show?"

"It was great; truth be told, I wasn't expecting to see as many hybrids," Yoongi confesses, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

"The owner is very pro-hybrid. It's one of the few places around here that are like that. I thought you'd like it, considering you always have the little stand on your counter." You refer to the local artists' tapes he keeps on the checkout counter; every week, he has a new one on display. You're unsure where he finds them, but you appreciate it as it helps you find new artists.

"I did, thank you," Yoongi smiles down at you and notices how you rub your hands together to warm them up. "Are you cold?" He doesn't wait for your answer as he takes your hands in his to warm them.

"How are you so warm?" You giggle.

"It's a hybrid thing," he mutters, a bit embarrassed. He's always been insecure about the things that make him a hybrid.

"I wish I was always that warm. My hands are always cold," you cutely pout.

Feeling brave, Yoongi says, "I can keep them warm."

You nod appreciatively, afraid of your voice betraying you. You walk the rest of the way hand in hand, and when you arrive at your departing point, you kiss his cheek. "For an amazing night."

"Will I see you at the store?" He asks shyly.

"Definitely."

○●○●○●○●○●

Time with Yoongi goes by so quickly. As promised, you return to the store, and Yoongi invites you out on another date in exchange. Your relationship progressed as the leaves began changing color. You didn't visit the store as much anymore as you visited each other's home. You were no longer the cute ditsy customer but the girlfriend.

You're so lucky to have Yoongi; he's much more than the grumpy cat you met. He's funny and extremely affectionate (in private, of course). It took you by surprise the first time he lay in your lap and asked you to touch his ears. You know it's a big no-no to touch a stranger's animal ears, but then again, you were no longer strangers. As you had your internal debate, Yoongi lay there with eyes closed, waiting for you. Silently praying you wouldn't be put off by it, his doubt was put to rest when you began softly stroking his pointy cat ears.

"Finally," he muttered, sinking further into your lap.

"Have you ever heard the saying good things come to those who wait?" You sass at him. Yoongi instantly relaxes, releasing a sigh of pleasure. You're weak for him, though, as your fingers brush through his hair and rub the base of his ears. He doesn't answer your question; instead, he falls asleep on you.

You're not sure if it's a Yoongi or a cat thing, but he loves his naps. Nine times out of ten, whether you're at his apartment or yours, Yoongi will nap for a few minutes, more if you're rubbing his ears. A trait you know comes from his cat side is looking for a spot in the house where the sun hits just right. You first noticed it at the store, and you thought it was because that's where the cash register is. Then you learned he moved the register closer to the big window to sunbathe. In fact, his apartment is set up in a way where his couch is mainly illuminated by the sun.

Something that is definitely a hybrid thing is scenting. You often caught Yoongi touching you or rubbing his head against your neck, a clear sign of scenting. Another way he does it is by giving you his hoodies or t-shirts. He gets all smug whenever you leave his apartment with his clothes, and whenever you return with his hoodies, and his scent is all faded, he switches them out. He wants to make it known to other hybrids that you are his.

For playing the stoic, serious guy, Yoongi loves kisses. Tiny kisses, pecks on the lips, kisses on the cheek, forehead kisses, full-blown makeout sessions, any type of thing involving kisses, he is there. You're favorite thing, though, is making him purr while you kiss.

In the past, you learned that some cat hybrids can purr and others don't, genetic differences between them or whatever. One day you were straddling his lap in a heated makeout session (one he started) and discovered he's one of the ones that purr.

Startled, you pull back with swollen lips, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Yoongi says, trying to pull you back by the back of your neck into another kiss.

"Was that a purr, Yoongi?" You insist with a teasing smile on your lips.

Yoongi, embarrassed, denies it. Furrowing his eyebrows with a pout, he mumbles, "Don't be ridiculous."

You smile at him and kiss him hard, grinding against him, "Do it again."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yoongi moans, guiding your hips over his lap.

"Do. It. Again," you say in between kisses, "It felt amazing."

"It did?" Yoongi asks with a vulnerable look. He's always been somewhat embarrassed by his cat tendencies because he has had to hide them for many years. In his head, the more human he is, the better. It gives people less ammo when they decide to be rude.

"Mhm," you nod, swiping his lipstick-stained lips with your thumb. "Honestly, it's a turn-on," you whisper in his ear.

"You'll have to figure it out then 'cause I'm not telling you," Yoongi drawls, squeezing your hips.

"Let's get to it, then," You say seductively, kissing him again.

It takes you no more than ten minutes to figure out it's all in the hair. Whenever you pull the hair on the back of his neck, Yoongi purrs like there's no tomorrow. Minutes later, you make another discovery. The purrs are especially good when he's going down on you.

"Fuck, Yoongi," you moan, gripping his hair in your fist. It's a double-edged sword you have; you pull his hair due to the overwhelming pleasure, but it makes him purr even more.

There's no way for you to close your legs as Yoongi is settled right between them. He holds tightly to your thighs with one hand as he flicks your clit with his tongue and works two fingers into you. Neither of you is sure how you got into this position, but there are no complaints.

"I'm not sure if you want me to stop or not," Yoongi teases you with a smirk, leaving kisses over one of your thighs, although his fingers continue their assault. The sound of your wetness, along with your moans, resonates through the room.

"Don't even think about it, kitty cat," you respond, propping up on your elbows. Your head tilts back with a loud moan when Yoongi rubs against that spot.

Yoongi glares at the nickname and bites just where he kissed you. He detests the nickname, so he gets testy whenever you call him that. You whine at the momentary pain, but it turns you on even more.

"Forgot you were a pain slut," Yoongi says with all the intent in the world. He hates being called 'kitty cat,' and you hate the term 'pain slut.' Now you're even.

You glare, pushing him away and shuddering as his fingers leave you empty. Your skirt falls back into place as you sit back on the couch with a pout that's supposed to make you look angry. Yoongi holds back a laugh, knowing you love being dramatic. He moves into a sitting position and grabs your hand, pulling you into his lap, where you can perfectly feel his hard-on over his sweats. His sticky fingers are on your side, playfully squeezing you.

"Don't be so pissy. You know I'm joking," Yoongi chuckles, kissing your shoulder. His hands trail over your body, squeezing your clothed chest before delving between your thighs, but you remain emotionless.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Yoongi jokes, kissing the point in your neck that makes you ticklish.

"That's not funny," you scoff, trying to hide the smile dying to come out.

"You're right, it's not," Yoongi agrees, "I'm sorry, Blue." He props his head on your shoulder with a pout, despite your messy blue hair tickling his face.

"I'm sorry too," you say rather unwillingly, turning to him.

"That's my girl," Yoongi smiles, gripping your chin to kiss you.

You squeal when he stands up, taking you to the bedroom to finish what he started.

○●○●○●○●○●

One fall afternoon, you bring Yoongi lunch to the store. He received a big batch of inventory and missed his lunch hour. Your hours at work are flexible, so you stop by one of the restaurants near the store and pick up his favorite.

"Yoongs, I'm here," you call out, not seeing him by the register.

"Back here, Blue!" You only see his hand waving from behind a pile of boxes. You leave the food at the counter and go around the boxes to see him sitting on a small stool organizing the new batch of CDs.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss his cheek. "Come eat before it gets cold."

"One second," he mutters, stacking the CDs in a neat pile before he stands.

"Hi," he smiles at you pecking your waiting lips. You walk back to the front of the store with his hand in yours.

You and Yoongi keep a pleasant conversation going as he eats and checks out customers simultaneously. Some clients come with questions you're more than happy to take care of. All the time you've spent at the store paying off. When he's finished and the store is empty of customers, he pulls you between his legs. Instantly, you know what he wants. It's his favorite thing in the world.

"Don't act so cocky," he murmurs against your lips.

"You're too cute." Your giggle is cut short by a kiss. Yoongi moves his lips expertly against yours, stealing your breath away. His arms keep you close to him, you also feel his tail by your side as if trying to curl around you.

A moan is heard through the empty store when Yoongi nips at your bottom lip. He smiles into the kiss, proud of himself. You're so reactive to his touch. He doesn't have to do much to get you like putty on his hands.

One of his palms sneaks under your shirt, meeting with the band of your bra. Yoongi's thumb brushes over the cup, teasing at how close he is. In turn, you find yourself palming him over his jeans. He's not fully hard, holding back if anyone walks into the store.

"Don't start something you can't finish," Yoongi tells you, kissing up and down your neck.

"We can flip that sign around and go to the back room," you pant as Yoongi leaves open-mouthed kisses against your jaw.

Yoongi is about to agree when the bell at the top of the door jingles obnoxiously. Jumping apart, you keep your distance. It's an older woman who barely spares a glance towards the two of you. She continues on her way, searching for whatever. 

You pout at Yoongi, who only shrugs, pecking your cheek. The woman then appears with an old cassette of an even older artist. Yoongi had those in the back of the store with a few cassette players. He says it's for the old music teachers who reject the artists of this generation. It's a business, and he needs something for everyone.

He rings her out and hands her the paper bag. The old woman looks between the two of you with an indignant look. "Honey, you can do so much better." She says with a frail voice filled with audacity.

Yoongi tenses beside you and is about to say something to the lady when you stop him, "What are you trying to say?" You ask in a daring tone. You need to know if this woman has the guts to voice her thoughts.

"That you can do so much better than a filthy hybrid. They are beneath us, just like any other animal would be. Why don't you find yourself a nice human boy to settle with?" She states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Yoongi sags at the woman's words. He's fine being humiliated alone but not in front of you. It's just a reality check that your situation is just a thing in passing. You'll never truly like him or see him as your equal.

"First of all, lady, I don't need a man or a hybrid to settle or take care of me. I can do that perfectly fine. Second, this man you want to say is beneath me is the most kindhearted, loving, hard-working man I've ever met. Not to mention he's the hottest too. Now take your old ass cassette and never come back." You don't scream or raise your voice. You talk in a steady dangerous tone, and by the end, you are leaning against the counter, facing the woman. 

She looks at you as if you've cursed her whole family. The moment you finish talking, she almost runs out of the store. Clearly, she hadn't expected that reaction. She probably wanted to rile Yoongi up to try and prove some stupid point she thinks she has about hybrids.

Turning to Yoongi, he's staring at you with a lustful look, "You really think that?"

"I do," you say, giving him the reassurance he desperately needs.

Yoongi steps around you, reaching for the sign on the door and turning it around to 'closed.' He grabs your hand when he returns, pulling you to the backroom. You barely get there when he pushes you against the door, kissing you feverishly. The way you stood up to the woman and defended him got Yoongi fired up.

"I fucking adore you," he gruffs before smashing his lips on yours. 

He kisses you bruisingly hard, pouring all of his feelings into it. You reciprocate his eagerness, folding your arms around his neck. You didn't realize that defending Yoongi almost made him say those three little words. He's conscious it's far too soon for that, and maybe the heat of the moment made him think of them. Still, he needs to get the 'I love you' out of his system somehow, and what better way than fucking you in his back room. 

"All this because I spoke up?" You giggle between kisses though it's interrupted by Yoongi sneaking his tongue into your mouth. 

Yoongi is in a frenzy, squeezing any part of your body he can reach; your thighs, your ass, your arms, your back, your chest. He needs to feel you close, closer than ever before. With each touch, you moan into his mouth. If he didn't love kissing you so much, he'd allow himself to listen to them. 

When you and Yoongi have sex, you always get on your knees first. You enjoy watching him struggle and get all flustered. His fingers knotting in your hair to get what he wants, making him believe he's the one in control. What can you say other than you find pleasure in giving him head? 

It works out because as giving as Yoongi is behind closed doors, he's a selfish lover. He is quick to take what he wants from you; your hands, your breasts, your mouth, your cunt. You get pleasure along the way, he draws orgasm after orgasm from you, but it's all a ruse as he gets the most out of it. Whether it's your taste, your touch, or your mellifluous voice chanting his name. You make him feel victorious. 

Today though, the roles are reversed as Yoongi breaks the kiss and drops to his knees. It's all about you at this moment; you've given him enough pleasure by defending him. You're lost in the moment; you don't question Yoongi's behavior. For you, this was just another horny adventure between the two of you. 

The kneeling cat hybrid bunches the skirt up to your hips and pulls your panties down your legs in one swift movement. His actions are firm yet careful. Decided. He hasn't even touched you, and yet you're breathing heavily. Yoongi leaves wet kisses from your stomach down to your mound. Grabbing your leg, he props it over his shoulder, giving him perfect access to your center. 

It's no secret you are wet. You have been from the moment Yoongi teased you earlier. Your body is somehow always ready for him. It doesn't help that you found everything he does sexy. Your breath hitches when his tongue licks a stripe from your opening to your clit, brushing over it with precise pressure. 

Your fist finds its place in his hair, right between his cat ears. You buck your hips with each lick and suck, Yoongi's name falling from your lips. He only keeps his eyes trained on your flushed face and swollen lips. His grip on your thighs keeps you grounded as they clench each time you close your eyes for too long. Yoongi needs you to see him worshiping you on his knees. 

It's a vicious pattern that Yoongi sticks to. Flicking your clit, fucking you with his tongue, nipping your thighs. It's enough and too much all at once. You'd be on the floor if it wasn't for the wall behind you.  

Yoongi's feline-like eyes indicate he is enjoying this as they reflect his playfulness. Your heel digging into his back and your thighs tightening around him betray you, giving it away that you're close. Not like you were hiding it as curses left your lips. 

Keeping a steady rhythm, he brings you to the edge and over the cliff. A selfless act 'cause if it were up to him, he'd edge you until you were begging and weeping. Your juices drip like a stream, and he acts like a man who spent the last year in the desert. Not a drop goes to waste. 

Only when you lightly nudge him back does Yoongi stand from the floor. His grip on you does not ease as he stabilizes your swaying form. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're weak in the knees. 

"Fucking delicious," Yoongi purrs as he shares your taste with a kiss. Fear overtakes him at the thought of never savoring you again. There's no one as addicting as you, so sweet and intoxicating. 

You grab onto his shirt, tilting your head to kiss him deeply. It's then that you feel his hard cock pressing against you. Poor kitty is being so good to you. Usually, he would've complained by now.  

Yoongi breathes into your ear as if on cue, "I need you, Blue."  

"You have me, Yoongi," you reassure him, pulling his clothes, desperate to get them off. 

You unbuckle Yoongi's belt and pop the button off his pants, digging your hand underneath to grip his cock. He is warm and heavy on your palm. Yoongi releases a throaty moan as you pump his cock, squeezing him lightly. 

You kiss the column of his throat as he throws his head back in pleasure. Releasing him momentarily, you take off your sweater, making you hot and sweaty. Running out of patience, Yoongi pulls the cups of your bra down. 

He turns you around by grabbing you by the shoulders. You brace your hands against the wall. From behind, Yoongi fondles your breast, pinching your pebbled nipples. He pecks your naked shoulder, biting when he ruts against your ass. 

"I can't hold it anymore," Yoongi groans.

"Fuck me, Yoongi," you whine, arching your back and lifting up your skirt. 

Yoongi spreads one of his hands on your upper back, forcing you to lean forward. With the other, he grabs his member, teasing you with the tip. Your arousal coats him instantly, and with one swift thrust, he forces his cock into you. 

Both of you moan in unison. The pace is slow at first until Yoongi starts thrusting faster and harder. His grip is tight around your waist; you wouldn't be surprised to find marks there later. You remove one of the hands from the wall to find Yoongi's. He holds it against your waist, squeezing it every so often. His groans are like music to your ears. The way his voice gets deeper and raspy, you could cum just by hearing him speak. 

Your walls feel so good around him. You'd tighten around him every so often; it would make him falter. The more you tense around him, the closer he gets. He pulls your back to him, so you're pressed against him. Yoongi buries his head on your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and a hand between your legs. He clumsily rubs your clit, making you climax in no time. It's perfect as the waves of pleasure push him to spill into your warm pussy. 

There's a moment where you both stay in that same position, catching your breath. Yoongi is inside you, his head on your neck, arms wrapped around your stomach. You hold onto him as best as you can with your eyes closed. He's so close to saying, 'I love you,' but fear of rejection stops him. He could live without you knowing but not without you. 

You shudder when he slips out of you. If it were up to him, he'd take you home and do it all over again, but you're expected back at work. Yoongi quickly helps you clean up and find your clothes strewn around the back room. Which is easier said than done. 

"Shit, I have to go," you exclaim after reading a text. 

"What happened?" Yoongi asks, handing you your sweater that had been covering a lamp. 

"I have a meeting in half an hour," you mumble, putting on your sweater. 

You rush out of the music store with a quick look in the mirror and sore legs. Your colleague is waiting for you when you open your office door. When you sit on your chair, you realize something is off. 

You don't have any panties on. Yoongi, that fucking sneaky cat must've kept them. 

    ○●○●○●○●○●

It had been a long week for you, with many deadlines and projects. Yoongi knows how hard you push yourself, so he worries when he calls to see how your day is and doesn't receive the response he usually gets. Something is wrong with you; that's all Yoongi knows. Yoongi changes quickly and gets takeout knowing you probably still need to eat.

He arrives at your apartment in record time, pulling out the key from his pocket to unlock your door. Yoongi has been spending so much time with you, you thought it would be easier if he had a key to your place. A week later, he gave you a key to his place. It was only fair.

He searches the familiar apartment, trying to find you, but you're not there. You're home, though, as your keys hand from the hook and your comforting scent welcomes him. He knocks on your bedroom door, and slowly, he opens the door. You're not on the bed, but that's when he sees the light coming from the bathroom.

"Blue?" He calls out from behind the door.

"I'm here," your quiet voice responds with a sniffle.

He opens the door to find you in the tub, hidden by soap bubbles. Your eyes are red-rimmed and wet. The addition of your red nose confirms you've been crying for a while.

"What's wrong, Blue?" Yoongi tenderly asks, kneeling by the tub to be eye to eye.

"Just had a horrible day at work," you sniff, hiding your face with fading blue hair. It's ironic how it matches your mood. "And my damn hormones are making things worse."

"You want to talk about it?"

You shake your head no as tears fill your eyes again. Work has been stressful this past week, with so many deadlines and little inspiration. The more you work, the less motivation you have. You've only been working at the company for 3 years. How will you manage to do it your whole life?

"Want cuddles?" Yoongi asks, brushing your hair out of your face.

Seeing you shake your head, yes, he undresses and gets into the tub with you. The fact you're on your period does nothing to impede him. It's just blood.

He hugs your shoulders and makes you lean against his chest. The water is hot enough to turn his skin pink and make him sweat, but his goal right now is to comfort you.

Yoongi kisses your head and lays his cheek on the top of your head. Feeling another wave of frustration and pain, tears pour out of your eyes. Knowing what you need, Yoongi gently massages your abdomen to ease the painful cramps. It's meant to be an act of both emotional and physical comfort.

"I'm sorry I'm crying over nothing. It's so stupid." Your hand rises from the water to wipe away your tears, yet it stops midway and falls back into the steaming tub of water. It's pointless; more will retake their place.

"It's not stupid, Blue," he whispers in your ear. "What you're feeling is real; the only way you'll feel better is to let it out." Yoongi is familiar with pain. It's like an old friend, always in the back of his mind.

Yoongi's words cause more tears to fall into the bath water. You're sad and angry, and frustrated at everything except for Yoongi. You're happy he's there with you, the highlight of your day. There's no way you're letting him go from your life. The past boyfriends you've had never treated you the way Yoongi does. They were alright. They just didn't pay attention to details.

With the water turning cold Yoongi gets out to heat up dinner. He sets up the table with a candle in the middle. You're a romantic; it'll cheer you up. You shuffle into the kitchen area with the hoodie he left in the bathroom and sweatpants. Yoongi smiles sweetly at you, motioning you over.

He had placed the plates facing each other, but you take yours and put it beside his, scraping the chair over the floor to sit beside him.

"Thank you." You kiss his cheek and begin to eat.

With him being right-handed and you being left-handed, there is no way he can hold your hand while you eat. Still, you feel his tail brushing against your back, providing that comfort.

○●○●○●○●○●

"There he is! The man of the hour!" A blonde man called Jimin yells, seeing Yoongi walk into his apartment.

"I'm surprised he even remembered how to get here," the fox hybrid Jin adds, uncorking a wine bottle.

Those two men are his best and only friends. Yoongi ignores them both, dropping his backpack on the couch. He first met Jin at the supermarket, where a man was throwing off-hand comments, and the hybrid fox stepped in. He acted as if he had known Yoongi all his life and glared at the man, bearing his teeth. The man left, instantly scared that he might get bitten. Jin laughed in pure glee. His fangs might be sharper than humans, but the rest are the same. He loves scaring humans; they are so stupid.

Different from when you defended him, Yoongi was less enthusiastic with Jin. He got into an argument with Jin about how they would get kicked out, what people might think, and a whole dilemma on hybrids' appearances going downhill because of people like Jin. This was 8 years ago when Yoongi was young and much more insecure than he is now. Jin has been the one to help him ease up and accept himself.

Yoongi's still figuring out how Jimin came to be. He was Jin's coworker; the fox had invited him to hang out with him and Yoongi. The rest is history. He's never left them alone since. It took a long time for Yoongi to warm up to him, though he thinks it was part of Jin's therapy to make him more tolerant of humans. Not all of them are bad people.

"You're being exaggerated," Yoongi gruffs, sitting on the kitchen's bar stool.

"Exaggerated? We haven't seen you in nearly two months," Jin scolds him. His voice is reprimanding, but his body movements are smooth and controlled as he places a wine glass in front of Yoongi.

"What has you so busy, Yoongi?" Jimin curiously asks. He takes a swing of the wine glass, grimacing at the dryness of it. He's always preferred white wine.

"Nothing, I wanted some distance from you two always annoying me," Yoongi jests, ignoring their complaints.

"Or counteroffer he has a girlfriend," Jin then says knowingly, "That usually gets people busy." Yoongi's silence confirms his suspicions. Jin's tail puffs up in victory.

"Pay up, Jiminie!"

"Fuck," Jimin whines, patting his pockets and pretending to look for his wallet, "I left my wallet in the car."

Jin rolls his eyes at the lies. It's okay because he knew Yoongi had a girlfriend before they made a bet. Last week, he had walked by the store to see Yoongi and saw the two of you all chummy. Jin hovered outside for a minute, debating whether he should make himself known. Ultimately, he chose against it knowing Yoongi likes his privacy, especially regarding his love life.

"You were betting on me?" Yoongi exclaims in outrage. They're always betting on silly things. This is the first time they bet on their best friend. Their gambling problem is officially a problem.

"Don't ask stupid questions. Of course, we were," Jin laughs, his black pointy ears flat on his head.

"So the girlfriend? Is she hot? Have you played cat and mouse?" Jimin asks. Yoongi instantly kicks him under the table.

In the 6 years of being friends, Jimin has only witnessed one person leaving Yoongi's apartment, which was a sexy mouse hybrid. That day he also learned that Yoongi plays both ways. Ever since, he teases Yoongi by calling sex 'playing cat and mouse.'

"This was too good to be true," Yoongi huffs. This is why Jin invited them to a dinner he would cook.

Jin refuses to cook outside of his job. He's a chef at a Michelin-star restaurant, and when he's at home, he'll eat frozen dinners or takeout. A paradox of sorts, really. While Jin enjoys cooking, it also feels like a chore, so he won't do it at home. Part of it is his ego; he wants the praise that comes with being an incredible chef.

When Yoongi received the text from Jimin that Jin was cooking he almost ran to Jin's place. A free gourmet dinner? Sign him up. Despite being misled Yoongi stays. He can entertain Jimin and Jin for a few hours. There's food being prepared and multiple bottles of wine on the kitchen counter.

One glass of wine in, and he tells them the bare minimum of his relationship. Two drinks in, and he tells them you were the one to ask him on a date.

Jin is so proud to hear she is human, he's done a great job with Yoongi. Part of Jin's plan is to get him tipsy enough to loosen his tongue, which is why he picked one of the dishes that take the longest to cook. Is it wrong? Possibly, but if he doesn't do it, Yoongi will never give any info.

"She's so cute," Yoongi giggles sipping on the fifth glass, "She defended me the other day when some bitch said she deserved better."

"I take it you're happy, Yoongi?" Jimin asks him, head propped up in his hands. He's more than tipsy, getting carried away by the expensive wine Jin bought.

"I thought I was happy as I was, but then she was just there, and I got so excited when she visited the store. She's soft and kind and doesn't complain about all the kisses. She liked when I purred!" Yoongi says as if it's an outrage.

"We like it when you purr, you ungrateful cat!" Jin shouts, waving around the wooden spoon, splatters of food staining the counter.

"No, you guys tease me about it," Yoongi argues.

"That doesn't mean we don't like it!"

They don't get around to eating Jin's delicious food because they are all too drunk to think when it's done. Jin got too carried away with the timing of the food. Jimin tapped out first, disappearing from the kitchen. Jin and Yoongi resisted longer as their hybrid bodies metabolized alcohol slower.

Yoongi, who is usually quiet, can't stop talking about you. Jin, who is a total gossip, is eating up his words. It's a clear indication the pair is wasted. That and the fourth empty bottle of cabernet.

"Jin, I swear she's driving me insane. She's insatiable, and I fucking love it," Yoongi smiles widely. He's lovestruck and way too drunk. You would surely be furious if you heard how he was talking about your relationship.

"Wow, you finally found someone that keeps up with you." Jin is astonished. Yoongi has a high sex drive. When Jin got him to go out clubbing, he would always leave with someone. Hell, there were times when Yoongi would have someone with him during his heats. He had all the contacts.

"God, she has given me the best head of my fucking life, and she loves it too, always on her fucking knees. Look at this."

Yoongi doesn't think as he pulls a Polaroid out of his wallet. Given your hobby of photography, you have many cameras around the apartment. One day, he didn't hesitate to reach out and snap a pic.

It's a picture of you on your knees, Yoongi's cock in your tiny hand, and your blue hair in two braids barely covering your chest. Yoongi's ring-clad hand is holding your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth to show his white cum in your mouth.

"Lucky son of a bitch," Jin gasps, staring wide-eyed at the photograph. Yoongi is too drunk to realize how bad it is that he's sharing a picture made only for his eyes. Luckily, Jin is too drunk to remember it in the morning.

Laughing loudly, Yoongi stumbles into Jin's living room. The fox is behind him, yelling at him for rubbing in his face his thriving sex life. Jin feels guilty about the tightness in his pants, he can't help it. He has been single for too long and his job keeps him busy leaving no room for one-night stands. The only release is the one his hand provides.

Yoongi trips on Jimin, sleeping on the floor, his chubby cheek squishing onto the carpet. The room is spinning for the cat hybrid; he barely manages to fall on the couch face down, getting knocked out instantly.

The following day Yoongi wakes up with a splitting headache and a kink in his neck. He stumbles into the kitchen to get water and finds a puffy-faced Jin. He has a spoon in his hand as he eats the untouched food from last night straight from the pot.

"I'm a culinary genius," he talks with his mouth full.

Yoongi grabs the spoon Jin offers him and digs in. He moans at how delicious it is, even if it's cold and he's not quite sure what it is. This is what he came for last night.

"How did I let you fool me again?" Yoongi wonders. It's not the first time Jin has done something like this to get him to join them.

Despite their headaches, both hybrids laugh loudly, the older one choking on the food. Yoongi laughs louder, patting him on the back. He loves his two friends; it's just that he loves being on his own, too, and they can be clingy as fuck. He appreciates it when they reach out, though.

Jimin appears in the doorway with an indignant look on his face. "Some of us are trying to sleep. What has the two of you giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls?"

○●○●○●○●○●

"Help."

Yoongi looks up from the sofa seeing you with your hair parted in chunks. There are strands of hair with blue hair dye and others without.

"What are you doing?" He stands, walking over to you to assess the situation.

"I can't reach the back," you say sheepishly. Whenever you dye your hair, you have friends with you to help you out. Hoseok has helped you a bunch of times as he's used to dyeing his hair. Your brother helps out too, seeing as he learned when he was a teenager to help you out.

You thought you could do it today on your own; you were desperate to revive your hair to the bright blue that you love. You were wrong because it got too messy and complicated as soon as you got to the strands in the back.

Yoongi sighs but follows you into the bathroom. He puts on a pair of gloves and, with your instructions, applies the blue hair dye. He'll be here a while; you have long hair and a lot of it. He hopes you have another dye tube because the one on the tray won't be enough.

"You're doing it wrong," you say for the third time since he started.

Yoongi pulls your hair lightly, forcing your head back to look up at him. He glares at you in warning; he's running out of patience. You reciprocate the glare. "Ouch."

"You're the one that needs help. Tone it down," Yoongi sighs angrily, brushing the dye on the top of your head.

"I'm just saying you're not adding enough," you snap, annoyed at Yoongi.

You should've known better than to ask for Yoongi's help; you're too much of a perfectionist. You're friends know you well enough already to handle your perfectionism. Still, it's something Yoongi has yet to see much of and needs to learn.

"No, you are saying it a whole other thing entirely. I'm no expert and doing you a favor, I don't need all the reprimanding." Yoongi argues, looking at you through the bathroom mirror.

"Fine then, leave," you grit, snatching the paintbrush from his hands to try and do it on your own.

Yoongi blows air out of his nose in anger, taking off his gloves on the way out of the apartment. He puts on his jacket and slams the door behind him.

Angrily you finish applying the hair dye. At this point, you don't care if it ends up patchy. That infuriates you more. While you wait to wash your hair, you slam each drawer and door in your apartment.

In the shower, you cool down and think of what you did again. Maybe, you were a little rough and reacted wrong. You didn't mean for it to come out as it did. Hurrying out of the shower, you get dressed in the first thing you find and leave for Yoongi's to apologize to your kitty.

Yoongi is at home staring at the TV. It plays a random action movie he can't bother paying attention to. You completely ruined his peaceful mood. His ears are flat on his back, clearly showing his anger. You had no reason to treat him that way, he always helps you out, comforts you, treats you like a damn queen, and then you repay him by acting like a total bitch.

He knows it's you when he hears the door. If you're here, you're probably going to apologize. He lets you knock a few more times out of sheer spite. When he opens it, he sees you with flowers and wine, and without a word, he lets you in.

You instantly catch that his mood could be better. Fair enough. "I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. I have no excuse for it."

"I'm glad you see it that way because I do every single fucking thing you want, and I don't warrant that type of treatment," he huffs, letting some of his frustration out.

"You don't have to do everything I want," you say passively, avoiding another argument. You leave the gifts on the kitchen counter.

"You don't get it?" Yoongi chuffs in disbelief, crossing his arms.

"Get what?"

"I do all those things because I like you and want to make you happy. When you treat me like I'm stupid, it drives me nuts. I don't deserve that."

"You're right, you don't," you agree instantly, "I understand if you want me to leave."

With your head hung, you reach for the door. You think that's what he means with his words. You think he's tired of you that you pushed him away with your bitch mood. You didn't mean to act that way; it just comes out sometimes, especially when you're PMSing.

"Come back, you idiot," Yoongi sighs.

Yoongi grabs your arm, slamming you against the door and kissing you hotly. How you irritate him drives him crazy, but you're not perfect, and neither is he. He'd rather work through it than let you go.

Your hands go under his oversized t-shirt, your nails dragging down his abdomen. Yoongi hisses in pain and wraps one of his hands against your throat, squeezing lightly.

"Don't ever speak to me like that, understood?" His voice is low and commanding.

You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling a wave of arousal. It's no secret that Yoongi has that effect on you, and it amplifies when he gets controlling like this.

"Say it, Blue." Yoongi repeats, tightening the fingers around your neck.

"I understand, Yoongi," you say seductively.

With his hand still around your neck, he smashes his lips on yours, teeth and tongue included. Your arms go around him, lightly tugging on his black tail, and his hips thrust as soon as you do. It never fails to surprise him. You've learned so much in the short time you've been with him.

Yoongi hoists you up, wrapping your legs around him, letting him carry you to his bedroom. The door slams against the wall as he indelicately drops you in the bed.

"Take off your clothes," he orders, sitting on the bed. He watches you with hard eyes, waiting for you to do as he says. "Today, Blue," he scorns when you take too long for his liking.

You don't know what's gotten into him, but you like it. Starting with your hoodie-the hoodie he left behind- you reveal a pretty white bra with flower details. Your leggings go next, then your bra, and lastly, your panties. Yoongi barely reacts, motioning you to continue with each piece you take off.

"Lay on the bed," he points with his head.

You crawl onto the bed, laying on the fluffy pillows that spill with his cologne. You're expecting him to join you, you couldn't be more wrong.

"Touch yourself," Yoongi nonchalantly speaks, tongue poking at his cheek in annoyance.

"W-What?" It shouldn't be a big deal you've had sex with Yoongi many times before, but this is different. Touching yourself is something you do in private, not under your boyfriend's scrutinizing gaze.

"Touch yourself, Blue. I know you do it. You think I haven't seen the toys you hide?" He mocks you with a mean smirk.

"Yoongi, I-"

"Touch yourself, now, and look at me while you do," he snaps, sending you a glare.

If you were to say no, that would be the end of it. Yoongi wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want. He's confident you'd enjoy this, though…to an extent.

Complying, you begin by massaging your breasts, pulling on your hard nipples just like he does when he touches you. Shyly one hand trails down your stomach, and you open your legs, revealing your pussy that Yoongi happens to love so much. It's not an assumption. He's vocalized it many times. He swears he can cum just by looking at it.

Circling your clit with your fingers, you moan his name, calling him to take you. He ignores you, fixating on your actions. A single digit slides between your folds as it easily enters you. You're soaked. It's never the same as when he does it, not as satisfying.

Yoongi notices the glistening of your juices from the foot of the bed, small wet sounds come from your body, along with your whines for him. Your eyes close in instinct while you chase pleasure.

"Open your eyes." You obey his command, your eyes focusing on his face as he licks his lips. You insert two fingers, pumping them steadily, giving him the show he desires.

"How does it feel?" Yoongi inquires, holding your knees open with his strong hands when they clench at the pleasure you're bringing to yourself. He's kneeling right in front of you, entranced.

"Fucking good," you pant, your hand reaching for the one on your knee.

"Better than when I do it?" He asks, lacing your fingers together.

"No, never," you gasp. Yoongi's fingers know you better than you do yourself. They reach depths you've never explored. They are agile and strong due to his talent on the piano. He would touch you just as he does the keys softly at first, adding force when needed and caressing lightly once the piece's climax is over. Always ready to go again and again until he perfect's it.

"Add another one," Yoongi purrs. You've taken his cock many times now. You're always tight but so ready for him.

You replicate his movements when he touches you, curving your fingers until you find that spot. The squelching sound intensifies when you add that third finger, it's music to Yoongi's ears.

A high-pitched yell from you informs him of all he needs to know, "That's it, you found it, haven't you?"

"Yes," you say in a high-pitched moan, your legs try to clench, but Yoongi's strong hands impede you.

"Stop," he says before you cum, "I said stop, Blue!" he roars when you ignore him. You are so close. His hand grips your wrist, forcing you to stop. You open your eyes, hadn't realized they were closed.

"You never listen. Do you?" Yoongi condescendingly mutters.

"I'm sorry," you say, out of breath, hoping he'll join you to finish you off.

He shakes his head, ignoring your apology, "Go on, Lick your fingers."

Obediently you bring your fingers to your lips, licking them clean as per his orders.

"You taste delicious, don't you?"

"Mhm, but you're better." Your eyes are hopeful he'll have his way with you now.

"Too bad 'cause you're not getting it today," he mocks with a fake pout.

"What?" You ask, bewildered.

"Not after what you did today," he says, dipping one of his fingers between your fold, making you shiver. He brings that same finger to his lips, tasting you.

"Yoongi, I said I was sorry," you argue, sitting up on the bed, begging for him.

"And that changes what?" He cocks an eyebrow at your words.

He grabs your chin and kisses you deeply. You numbly follow along before he pulls away, "Get dressed and come out. There's a new episode of that show you like. Oh, and don't you dare cum."

"I don't get it! I'm here begging for you, and you won't touch me." You're upset, but more than that, you're horny. Yoongi is a drug you can't get enough of, and being denied of him sends you into a frenzy. "Wasn't my apology enough?"

"Blue, I forgave you the moment you got here," Yoongi smiles at you sweetly.

"Then why?" You ask, your shoulders slumping.

"Well, just because I forgave you doesn't mean you don't need a punishment."

"And no sex was the way to go. You could do so much better, Yoongi?" You taunt him, thinking this is the way he'll give you what you want.

"Says the girl who couldn't keep her hands to herself and brought me to her apartment on the second date," Yoongi teases her.

"Are you slut shaming me?" You gasp in disbelief.

"No, I'm just saying when it comes to me, you have no control," he shrugs.

"Please, next time I'm mad at you, we'll see who has no control," you pout, gathering your clothes strewn on the floor.

"Probably you. We know how you get when you're mad," Yoongi winks.

You wanted him, he was decided, though, and a stubborn Yoongi always wins. You get dressed again, only in his hoodie, hoping he changes his mind. He doesn't. He acts as if the fight never happened, cuddles you, and kisses you, but that night he doesn't touch you the way you want, ignoring all your advances.

The following day is a different story as Yoongi fucks you like you want, ravaging your body. Everything he held back the day before he uses to his advantage. You didn't hold back one bit as you begged Yoongi to fuck you harder. The neighbors will surely complain to the landlord about the unholy noises coming from his room.

○●○●○●○●○●

“Ah,” Yoongi’s moans are hidden by the water falling from the shower. He’s right below the shower head, cold water covering his body. The past three months have gone by so quickly that his heat surprised him.

His back leans against the shower wall as he rubs himself under the cold water. His hips thrust into his hand in desperate need. Yoongi whines in discomfort; his peak is too hard to reach alone. He would call you, but he’s not ready yet. He is not in complete control when he’s in heat, Yoongi knows he’ll say things that will throw you off, and it’s not like you’ll even agree to help him in the first place. You love sex, and you love sex with Yoongi, but this is something else entirely.

Yoongi moans as he continues to pump his cock. It feels so good yet so painful at the same time. The more he reaches his climax, the more the pain intensifies. If he had you here, he’d have you against the wall as he fucks you from behind. The thought sends another wave of heat through his body.

In his horny haze, he remembers something he stole from you, a little piece of you. He shuts off the water, not bothering to dry himself. He has the panties he stole from you that day at the shop on his nightstand drawer. They have your scent attached to them. Should be enough to let him cum.

Yoongi lies on his bed, sweat, and water sticking to the bed sheets. He grabs the soft fabric and envelops it in his aching length. Yoongi fists his length, imagining he’s with you, how your hands tighten around his cock, or how you like to choke on it when giving him head. Your tight fucking pussy always feels so good. He always needs to stretch you out with his fingers. His moves quicken; the only noise in the room is his desperate moans calling for you, for his Blue. Reaching his orgasm, he covers your panties with his cum. Momentarily his temperature lowers, and his breathing slows as he catches his breath. The first day is the worst. He just needs to get over this day.

If he’d been single, he would’ve called other hybrids he knew and had helped him before. He has you know he doesn’t want to disrespect you or your relationship. He’d be thinking of you even if he’s with someone else. Due to this, through the next two days, his hand becomes his best friend.

                      ○●○●○●○●○●

It’s your six-month anniversary today, and after a romantic date, you and Yoongi desperately enter your apartment. Hands are everywhere, lips are swollen, and sex is in the air. Yoongi teased you all night under the dinner table, refusing to give you what you wanted. Your begging in his ear to fuck you in the car or bathroom not working in your favor.

The door to your apartment bangs against the wall as you push it open. Yoongi pushes you into the room, slamming the door behind him. He likes to think he has it memorized. He pulls your leg around his waist, grinding against you. You moan as he buries his head on your neck.

A cough and the scent of another hybrid force Yoongi to stop in his tracks. With narrowed eyes, he pulls away from your neck. A bunny hybrid stands at the living room entrance, a corn popsicle in his hand.

“For fucks sake Jungkook,” you say under your breath, creating distance between you and Yoongi. “How many times have I told you to call ahead?”

“I did, though! I sent you a message this morning,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his ice cream.

“The message says ‘What’s up?’” You read the message, expecting to see another one following up with an announcement of his visit. The bunny shrugs like it’s not his problem, and you sigh in annoyance.

Yoongi is confused, to say the least. Who is this stranger in your living room? Noticing his expression, you quickly introduce the two hybrids.

“Yoongi, this is my brother Jungkook.”

Yoongi’s confusion rises to a new degree; something is not adding up. Jungkook catches on to his train of thought, and with a chuckle, he adds, “Adopted.”

You had never mentioned your brother was a hybrid. You’ve been dating for six months, and that never came up once. He wonders why that is. It would explain the light hybrid scent in your apartment. Yoongi always thought it came from one of your neighbor’s apartments.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook,” Yoongi coughs to ease the tension.

“How long are you staying?” You ask your brother, crossing your arms against your chest. You are slightly upset, today is meant to be a celebration, and with Jungkook here, that can’t happen. Still, you’re not mad. You love Kook; he’s your best friend.

“Just the weekend, I got an exam on Tuesday,” Jungkook says.

“You look really nice,” he tells you, “Were you guys on a date?”

Yoongi nods solemnly. He’s not sure what to do in this situation. He thought when he’d meet your family, it wouldn’t be in such a compromising condition. Granted, Jungkook being a hybrid helped ease his nerves. He doesn’t have to worry about a stranger judging him or you for your relationship.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Jungkook grimaces in apology.

“Does mom know you’re here?” You ask him while walking to your room.

Clearly, Jungkook is here to stay, so you’ll change and get more comfortable. There’s no use in staying in the uncomfortable dress and lingerie you’d worn for Yoongi. You can save it for next time and surprise him with the black lace set.

“Nope,” he simply says, following you to your room.

You close the door behind you, and Jungkook continues the conversation on the other side. While you forgot to mention that Jungkook is a hybrid, you mentioned that he has no boundaries and easily gets very comfortable with people.

Feeling out of place, Yoongi waits for you on the couch. Maybe with Jungkook here, you wouldn’t like him to stay, or you’d leave with him to his place. The bunny hybrid carefully eyed him as if assessing if he was a good guy or not.

Jungkook almost falls when you open the door. You’ve changed into his hoodie, shorts, and geeky superhero socks. It’s been getting colder lately, making your feet feel freezing. Whenever you go to bed with Yoongi, you press your cold feet on his thigh, making him hiss. Then you’d remind him of his promise of keeping you warm six months ago.

“I couldn’t find the banana milk,” Jungkook pouts, following you around the apartment.

“It’s on the pantry’s lowest shelf,” you mention, flopping on the couch beside Yoongi.

You cuddle on his side when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. Jungkook returns to the living room, eyeing the both of you.

“Jungkook, don’t be so awkward,” you laugh at him, patting the seat beside you.

“I feel bad I interrupted you guys night,” he admits, flopping beside you like you did moments ago. It’s hard to say who got that from who.

“It’s no problem, Jungkook. I’m happy to finally meet you,” Yoongi adds that it’s no biggie.

Jungkook smiles at the both of you and finally eases up. He spends the rest of the night getting to know Yoongi better. You’re pleased they both get along well. If anything, Jungkook even looks up at Yoongi. When you told him you were dating a hybrid, Jungkook was ecstatic. He never mentioned it, but whenever you brought home your human boyfriends, they were always uncomfortable around Jungkook, which hurt him. 

They never understood his hybrid mannerisms. They’d begin thinking he was hitting on you after learning that he was adopted. Now with Yoongi, he won’t have that problem because he will understand.

At the end of the night, Yoongi stays. He’d offered to leave, but you didn’t see a point to it. Even if you do nothing tonight due to your guest’s heightened sense of hearing, you want him to stay to finish the celebration.

“So adopted?” Yoongi asks. He’s lying on your chest as your play with his hair. It calms him down.

“Mm, yes.”

As a teen, your mom had a friend, and she had a bunny girl hybrid as a servant. They didn’t treat her the best, but your mom was always kind to her, and they became somewhat friends. They kept in touch through the years. One day when you were 16 and Jungkook was 12, she died in a car accident. Some believe it was on purpose. 

At the time, she was working for a sketchy man, and he did unspeakable things to her that she could not repeat. By now, the law for hybrids had passed, and she was going to report him. The man followed her and ran over her with his car. Before she died in the hospital, she asked your mom to take care of Jungkook. You and Jungkook became best friends, and your parents gained another child.

“That was nice of your family,” Yoongi hums, caressing your leg.

Jungkook is lucky he was born after the law for hybrids was passed; hence, he was not separated from his mother and got to meet and get to know her. 

Yoongi never got to meet his mom, he doesn’t even have a name. If his memory is good, Jungkook still remembers her, or he has photographs. As soon as Yoongi was born, he was raised with other hybrid kids, and when Yoongi was old enough, he got sold to servitude.

“You should’ve seen him when he first moved in, shy and cute,” you gush over Jungkook. He had this wide-eyed innocent gaze. He always asked permission for everything and anything. It took your family a while to break that habit. It makes you laugh cause nowadays, he does as he wishes and has everyone wrapped around his little finger.

“Reminds me of someone,” Yoongi mentions, squeezing your thigh.

“That’s different. I was flustered by your dashing good looks!” you exclaim, lightly slapping his chest.

The following day you wake up bright and early to prepare breakfast. Jungkook walks in with his hair pointing in all directions. He kisses your cheek in greeting before sitting on the kitchen table. Like clockwork, you give him a glass of juice with a straw and a silicone tip. 

Jungkook likes biting on straws (on everything he can get his teeth on). When you stopped buying the plastics ones for the more environmentally friendly metal ones, Jungkook didn’t like that and began complaining about how he couldn’t bite into them. Falling for his whines, you bought a pack of silicone tips and then another, and then another cause he destroyed them with his bunny teeth.

“Have plans today?” You ask him, ruffling his messy hair. Jungkook leans into his touch, feeling comforted by the simple action.

“I think I’m gonna lazy around and play online if that’s okay,” he asks sweetly, knowing that otherwise you would scold him and tell him to go out and enjoy the fresh air. He doesn’t know that since you’ve been with Yoongi, you’ve turned more into a homebody.

“Of course. Yoongi and I will be heading out to work soon, but you call me if you need anything.”

You had prepared a stack of blueberry pancakes for all of you. You served Jungkook a big plate, knowing he eats like there’s no tomorrow. His bunny metabolism helps him with that, and his unrelenting energy. As you place the plate in front of Jungkook, he gently bites into your arm.

You sigh in defeat, knowing there’s no way for him to stop his biting. For years you’ve told him not to do it, but it’s an instinct of his. He does it when he’s angry, when he’s sleepy, when he’s happy, when he’s annoyed. What varies is how hard he does it.

Jungkook smiles mischievously, waiting for your complaint, but all you do is brush through his long dark hair, undoing the knots that form by his bunny ears. Just like Yoongi purrs, Jungkook makes a weird sound in the back of his throat whenever you touch him around his ears.

Yoongi, having woken up later than you, walks into the kitchen. He’s dressed in clothes he’s left here in the past months. He beelines for you, pecking your lips sweetly as you hand him a plate of pancakes.

“Morning, Jungkook,” Yoongi greets the younger boy.

“Morning, Yoongi,” Jungkook says with his mouth full of pancakes.

You sit between them, striking conversation between the three of you. It’s much easier than you thought, as Jungkook just asks question after question at Yoongi. He’s never felt more at ease with one of your boyfriends.

“Can I stop by the store later?” He asks Yoongi with puppy dog eyes.

“Sure, I’ll be there till 6,” Yoongi agrees with a soft smile. There is a lot of Jungkook that reminds him of you. While you are not biologically related, you’ve adapted to each other’s mannerisms.

In the afternoon, Jungkook stops by your office to have lunch. He always has a great time at your building since most people know him there. He hopes to work there after he graduates from university.

As promised, Jungkook then stops by Yoongi’s store. He has walked by the small shop many times but never stopped to go inside. The bell at the door jingles when Jungkook walks in. Yoongi has just finished checking out a customer.

“Hey, Kook.” Yoongi greets him, his black tail swishing behind him. He’s heard you call him Kook so many times it stuck.

“Hi, Yoongi,” Jungkook absentmindedly responds, staring around the store and its variety, from musical instruments to producing equipment to music albums of all kinds and formats.

“Your sister mentioned you were collecting vinyl?” Yoongi asks him, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, I have a few,” Jungkook nods, looking at the cat hybrid, who offers him a sneaky smile.

“I pulled these out for you. I think you might like them.” Yoongi pulls out two pieces of vinyl still wrapped in plastic from the shelf behind him. Yoongi likes the bunny hybrid and sees how happy he makes you, so he doesn’t mind giving Jungkook a small gift.

“How do you have these?” Jungkook exclaims in awe. In his hands are two limited edition vinyls of his favorite artists. These have been sold out everywhere for a long time, and very few people sold them. Whenever they did the waitlist, the bids were ridiculous.

“I’ve got contacts,” Yoongi shrugs cockily.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna get along just fine,” Jungkook beams at him, gushing over the vinyl.

They spend quite a lot of time talking about music, and Yoongi is surprised at all the knowledge the bunny holds. There are things Yoongi thought only a few people knew, but Jungkook is proving him wrong here.

“Is there a reason you visited this weekend?” Yoongi smoothly asks Jungkook. He’s noticed some things about the bunny that lead him to think it’s not just to have a friendly visit.

“Nope, was tired of school,” Jungkook says, lying.

“Your sister has mentioned you like to skip a lot,” Yoongi adds. He’s staring out the window wanting to keep the bunny calm.

“I don’t skip that much,” Jungkook complains with a groan. His sister always exaggerates things, he barely misses school.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi inquires again.

“I know my sister worries, but I’m fine. You don’t have to do this.”

Since he came into your life, you’ve worried about Jungkook-or not so much about him but the people around him. Not everyone is tolerant of hybrids, and you know this. When he came into your life, you were already in high school, so you weren’t there to defend him when bullies bothered him. When he was 12, he wasn’t big and buff to scare people away as he is now. He was small and scrawny, your parents talked to the principal and the other parents, but there’s only so much they could do.

“She didn’t send me to do anything. I just noticed the bruise on your arm,” Yoongi points to Jungkook’s left arm.

“Don’t tell her,” Jungkook sighs, defeated. He’d tried to hide the bruise as best he could. “My roommate is an ass, and he’s always taunting me, calling me a helpless bunny. He’s provoking me. I usually leave because if I throw the first punch, I get expelled. My parents did a lot to get me into the school I wanted. I don’t want to let them down.”

“You’re doing good, Jungkook,” Yoongi says thoughtfully. He understands Jungkook’s predicament. No matter how well a hybrid does, one misstep can end it all.

“But?” Jungkook prompts, there’s always a but.

“You should tell someone, get you out of that dorm. Staying quiet will only get you so far,” Yoongi advices. From his perspective, Jungkook has a great support system and should take advantage of that.

“Maybe, I don’t want the attention, though, or for my family to worry,” Jungkook explains. They’ve done so much for him already. He doesn’t want to be a burden.

“Just think about it. Your sister is worrying and doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“You won’t tell her?” Jungkook pleads, finding Yoongi’s gaze. All he wants is to do this by himself.

“It’s not my place,” he reassures Jungkook with a nod.

Thinking of Yoongi’s words, Jungkook agrees. He’ll take care of this situation. He’ll apply for a new roommate or move in by himself. Next time something happens, he’ll speak up.

○●○●○●○●○●

One lazy morning, Yoongi stares at the ceiling. It’s too early to be up. His arm is around you as your head lies on his chest. He had woken up from a nightmare. It had been a while since he had one of those. Why is it that when things are going great, the universe reminds him of the horrible things he’s been through?

Yoongi feels you stir as you wake up. You stretch out your limbs before settling back in Yoongi’s chest.

“Why are you awake so early?” You yawn, kissing his exposed chest. Yoongi can’t sleep with many clothes on, or he’ll get too hot at night.

Yoongi hugs you close, kissing your head, “I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yoongi hasn’t told you much about his past life. When he talks about his past, it’s mainly the part of his life after Lee adopted him. You understand it’s something he wants to leave behind and respect it. It’s time, though, Yoongi thinks.

“When I was a kid before the law passed, I was owned by this family,” Yoongi begins, “Even though I was barely a child, they would have me do chores around the house, clean up their kids’ messes, and obey every little word they said. I remember their kids bullying me into acting ‘like the animal I was.’ They would make me eat off the floor and crawl around the house till my knees were bruised. They’d get physical too, pulling on my tail and ears till I cried.”

“I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you say sadly. You can’t imagine a child going through that, yet it’s the reality many hybrids face.

“When the law passed, I was thrown into the streets. I was alone, cold, and hungry, eating off the trash like a stray. An old woman took me in. She was nice enough. She needed company, but more than that, she needed help around the house. Mostly, I went unscathed unless I did something she thought was out of line. That’s when she’d search for her dead husband’s belt and beat me with it. I never left, though. Where would I go? When she died, I was 14, and back to the streets, I went. I went to different hybrid and homeless shelters, but there was always some sort of problem with them, and they never offered a way to get out of the streets.”

“What did you do then?” Your hands are trailing up and down his stomach, offering some comfort.

“I came to this city, hoping there would be more resources. It was the same. That’s when things truly got worse….” Yoongi trails off, thinking of his past.

“Yoongs, you don’t have to,” You reassure him, getting in a position where you can see his face. His eyes are distant, so you touch his cheek and peck his lips.

“I want you to know,” he slowly responds.

“Okay,” you nod, offering him a small smile that you hoped comforted him.

“There was this sketchy guy I always saw around, and one day he asked me if I wanted to make some money. He knew I did, and he used that to his advantage. He had customers all around the city with different tasks. All I had to do was go to the addresses he gave me, do whatever they wanted me to do, and leave. And I did, at first, it was stupid stuff to help an older man with a yard, clean a house, or do a delivery. When he had my trust, things got sketchier delivering mystery packages to rundown houses, watching some people and reporting back to him, and transporting vehicles from one side of town to another.

Until one day, he said he had an extra special job for me. All I had to do was go to an apartment in the middle of the city. I went, and there, a lady greeted me. It was unlike anything I had ever done before; she complimented me. She led me to this false sense of security and then took what she wanted.” Yoongi pauses, remembering that horrible day, “Turns out they pay a lot for hybrids in heat.”

You think of Jungkook and what would’ve been of him if your family hadn’t taken him in. Your poor Jungkook wouldn’t have survived what Yoongi went through. His heart has always been too pure, too gentle. More so, you feel pain for Yoongi for having to go through it. What he’s been through is some people’s worst nightmare, and he had to go through it all alone.

“I left after that day, didn’t accept the money that came with it or any other tasks offered to me. I spent a year in the streets, barely scraping by and hiding in alleys. There was the music store I always walked by, and one day I gathered the courage to walk in. Lee instantly spotted me and watched me as I played a few keys on the piano. An instrument that has been there for most of my life. The first family I had owned one, and I got to learn the basics by watching their kid’s lessons. The old lady had one, too, that she let me use. She actually liked when I played.

I played a song lightly on Lee’s display piano, and when I finished, Lee was there watching me. He asked me if I needed a job, and despite me showing him I was a homeless hybrid, he didn’t care. Turns out Lee had lost a son due to an illness, and he saw something of his son in me. I was hesitant initially, but Lee always proved to be an honorable man. That’s where I’ve stayed until now, repaying him for everything he did for me.”

When he finishes the story, you have tear tracks down your face. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t deserve to. After all, you were not the one to go through that stuff, yet you felt for Yoongi. You felt the pain in his voice and the injustices he had to go through. His memories still haunt him through his dreams when he should be resting peacefully in the safety of his home.

“I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.” Your voice is watery as you try to voice your thoughts, “I’m so happy that you found Lee and that you’ve found happiness because it’s all you deserve and more.”

“I love you, Blue,” Yoongi confesses for the first time, sitting on the bed. “It’s why I’m telling you, I love you, and you need to know my past before it’s too late.” He needed you to know in case you decided to leave.

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you cry out happily, holding his cheeks in your hands. “It pains me that you have such a tragic past, but it led you to me, and it’s not going to change how I think of you.”

With tears of relief in his eyes, Yoongi kisses you nice and softly. He loves you, and you love him. You know everything you need to know about him, and it didn’t scare you away. He couldn’t ask for anything better.

○●○●○●○●○●

By the time his next heat rolls around, Yoongi has talked to you about it. You had randomly brought up the subject one night, asking him about what he did in those instances. He had been honest about how he usually had someone helping him and reciprocated that help when the time came. He quickly added how he was all alone last time, afraid you’d think he had cheated.

It all made you feel guilty; you didn’t want Yoongi to be in pain and discomfort because of you. At the same time, you did not like the idea of someone else getting to help him and touch him when he was in such a vulnerable state. The only solution was to offer him your help to which he reluctantly agreed.

It led to a long night of Yoongi giving you a rundown of what usually happens when he’s in heat and what to expect. He pretty straightforwardly told you not to take to heart all the breeding references about giving you his babies. You’d giggled at that and told him not to worry. You might actually be into that.

The fated day finally arrives without warning. His constant fucking around with you completely masked the incessant horny feeling he gets. Your voice wakes him up, ripping him away from the dreamy haze he had been in. Unconsciously he had been rutting against her side, his cock rock hard and larger than normal.

“Yoong’s, you’re burning up,” you say, touching his forehead, which is beginning to be coated by sweat.

“I have to go,” Yoongi groans, sitting up. Despite having thrashed all the sheets, he’s sweaty and sticky, “I’m in heat.”

“Yoongi, we talked about this. You have me now. You don’t have to go through this alone,” you tell him, holding onto his arm, preventing him from getting up.

“It can be too much, Blue, and I won’t be thinking straight,” he insists half-heartedly. All he wants is your help, but he’s scared you’ll be disgusted by this side of him.

“Lie back down. I’ve got you,” you say, pushing Yoongi lightly back onto the pillows.

Taking off your underwear, you lift the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed and straddle him. Since this isn’t a time to have tons of foreplay, you grab his hard cock, pumping it while you rub your clit to get yourself wet. Yoongi complains, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy, swearing it’s the only thing that will relieve him.

Finally, you take all his cock, a sting following as you get used to his size. He’s so much bigger when he’s in heat you have never felt as full. Yoongi sighs in relief under you, grabbing your hips to set a pace that will please him best. His hands gripping you so tightly he thrusts into you desperately. His eyes are closed, concentrating on how you clench around him, but he needs more.

He pulls out of you and swiftly brings you to your knees, your front pressed onto the mattress. He slams back into you without hesitation, making you moan loudly onto the pillows. The room is all but quiet. You’re whining from Yoongi, pushing deep into you. Yoongi is groaning filthy words about how well your pussy is taking him, and the sound of your skin slapping reverberates.

For Yoongi, the first wave is the hardest to overcome. It takes a lot out of him to cum. He wants to so badly, but the pain edges him on. Luckily, you’re great to help with what you do next.

“Fuck me, Yoongi. I wanna have your babies!” You yell under him.

You swear your words make Yoongi’s cock swell even more, the stretch unreal. He thrusts hard, pulling away entirely and slamming back in. Tears well in your eyes. It feels too good. You’ve already cum around him once, and he barely noticed. You’re overstimulated by this new experience.

“We’re gonna keep going until you’re full of my cum,” he groans. Yoongi is drenched in sweat his hair sticking onto his forehead. His chest glistens with the dimmed lights of the bedroom.

Yoongi is entranced by how his cockhead pops in and out of your wet pussy. His length is entirely covered in your slick, making it much easier to thrust into you. You were made just for him. There’s no other explanation for why you feel so good hugging his cock.

Finally, feeling like he’s near his release, he lifts you up your back is against his front. He digs his head into your neck, breathing your delightful smell in. His scent entangled in yours prompts him to harshly bite you, leaving a mark on your neck as if he has claimed you as his. Yoongi is right, you are a pain slut, which brings you over the edge.

“That’s it, Blue, milk my cock, take all of it,” Yoongi stills as you clench around him, his nails digging into your hips, leaving half-moon marks on your skin as he empties inside of you.

“Everything you’ll give me,” You pant, your legs feeling like jelly as you slump against Yoongi.

Pulling your head to the side, he places short messy kisses all over your face. The heat waves he felt coursing through his body ceased momentarily. He pulls out of you, his cock not quite soft yet. You whine at the emptiness and how sensitive you feel down there.

Cum trickles out of you as you lay back on the bed, yet Yoongi pushes it back with his fingers. He hushes you when you shudder, kissing your thigh, “Can’t waste it.”

As you predicted, some minutes after his first release Yoongi is back on you. He kneels between your legs, grabbing your hips to fuck you like that. Yoongi is a visual person, so he takes much pleasure watching you take his cock, your cunt pink and puffy from his previous abuse. Part of his cum leaks out of you, although this time around, he doesn’t worry as he promises to give you more.

His mind flashes with the thought of you pregnant, carrying his kittens. Pretty girl. He splays his hand over your lower abdomen and presses down, he feels himself inside of you, and you see stars as he stimulates your spot. You cum again, legs shaking. Yoongi drips in sweat and, with a painful groan, releases inside of you again. Still inside you, plugging you up, he breathes heavily and lays on your chest. You brush through his wet hair, whispering sweet nothings.

“You did so well, Yoongi,” you rasp out, “Fucked me so good.”

Your throat is dry and raspy. You need water, yet you don’t dare to get up. Yoongi needs you.

“You don’t have to stay,” he whispers, “I can finish this myself. You’ve done more than enough.”

Through his haze, he offers you another exit. Heats are too much for the hybrid. He can’t imagine how much it’ll be for you. He appreciates your help but understands if you want to leave now that you’ve tasted how it is.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” you reassure him gently, “I want to help you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Yoongi insists, kissing the swell of your breast.

“You won’t,” you laugh, “I’m sturdier than I seem.”

Yoongi props up on his elbows and thrust slowly, feeling more in control. “I love you, Blue.”

“I love you, Yoongi,” you gasp. Yoongi pins your hands at your sides, lacing your fingers with his.

He’s so pretty with his face flushed. He looks softer with the needy expressions he’s making. Your legs wrap around his waist, trapping him close to you. Yoongi likes it when you get clingy and territorial. It makes him feel wanted.

You sleep hours later with your leg over his hip and his cock nestled inside you. He had managed to snooze off too. Granted, right before your alarm rings, he’s already thrusting into you. You hold onto his back, moaning into his ear and leaving scratch marks behind.

The next day you leave for work, not before Yoongi scents you and fucks you in the shower. The water washing away the remains of him. When you return in the afternoon, he waits for you, shirtless and in sweatpants laying low. He takes you against the door, jeans down to your knees.

By the third day, Yoongi is high and lazy from fucking you so much. He lets you take control, and you ride him lazily, his hands tracing the bruises on your body, some accidental, some on purpose. In his moments of lucidity, he apologizes for the roughness. It’s never his intention to hurt you. You always so kindly wave him off. You don’t care about them, just that your kitty is getting the relief he needs.

You’ve received strange looks at work, and you later learn by visiting Tae it’s because you smell like Yoongi, your usual florals and chocolate scent are almost gone. Only hybrids notice that, so Yoongi also leaves hickeys on your neck (which you hide) for the humans that might want to try something.

By the fourth day, his heat is over. You sneak out of bed to go to work and let Yoongi rest. He’s as still as the dead, exhausted and spent. When you return from work, you smell home-cooked food, and the table is set romantically with flowers in the center and candles.

“You’re home,” Yoongi says, kissing you gently, “Come, I’ve prepared you a bath.”

He leads you to the bathroom, where the tub is steaming with bath salts and bath bombs, more candles are alight, and a glass of wine rests by the tub. Yoongi helps you undress, kissing each and every bruise on your body. You giggle at certain parts as you’re ticklish. Then he offers his hand to help you into the tub.

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be finishing up dinner,” he softly smiles at you.

You relax into the water and nod. Yoongi didn’t have to do any of this; it’s not like he can control his heat. It has you feeling cared for, though, and that’s something you can’t take for granted. When you get dressed, you both have dinner. He apologizes again and hopes he didn’t scare you away. You reassure him he didn’t. You even tell him you found most of it hot, including the breeding kink that came naturally with him.

Yoongi blushes and says ‘noted’ under his breath. The rest of the night, you and Yoongi cuddle, and before bed, he gives you a massage. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he insists, and who are you to refuse?

Days later, you take a pregnancy test, scared of the result. You have no symptoms, but the amount of times you and Yoongi had sex is unholy, and you’re afraid your birth control pills might’ve failed you. His heat clouds his mind, it’s designed to breed and reproduce. Each time he came, he did it inside of you. You know your birth control is 95% effective, yet what’s to stop you from being that 5%. You’re not ready for children. It’s not something you’ve spoken about, either. You pick up the test with shaking hands once the alarm goes off. It’s negative.

○●○●○●○●○●

There are days when you are too busy to go out for lunch. Today is one of those days. Luckily, Yoongi offers to bring you food for when you have time to eat something. It’s his first time visiting you at work, and he realizes he doesn’t know exactly where you work. He always thought you worked at the multi-office building near the corner.

When he follows the direction, it leads him to the building he despises. You never told Yoongi you work there. Feeling uncomfortable, he walks in, where a receptionist greets him, “Hello, how can I help you today?”

Yoongi tells her your name. It feels foreign on his tongue. He’s always called you Blue, and very few people call you by your government name as it is.

“Oh, you must be Yoongi! She told me you’d be coming. Take this pass. Her office is to the left on the 30th floor. You’ll see her name on the door.”

That’s a high number. In fact, it’s one of the few at the top. Usually, that means a high position, but you’ve never really talked about your job. Yoongi knocks on the frosted glass door with your name on it, preceded by Prod.

He wants to leave. How come you never told him you were a producer? That seems like the thing to say when your boyfriend owns a Music Store. You had told him you loved music, and that was it. Anyone can love music and not be involved at all. Not even that whenever he asked about work, you’d say you didn’t like talking about it to keep things separate. How many songs has he heard on the radio that you worked on?

He gets no response, so he opens the frosted glass door he sees a studio with state-of-the-art equipment. You were at the desk with big headphones covering your ears. He could hear a beat coming from them. He taps you on your shoulder, and you jump in surprise.

“Yoongi!” You say loudly, forgetting the headphones on your ears. “Oops, sorry.”

“Hey, I got your food,” he says, raising the plastic bag, but his eyes can’t stop taking in the studio and all the tools you had.

“You are a lifesaver,” you gush, grabbing the bag from him to open it.

“You never mentioned you were a producer,” he clicks his tongue in mild annoyance.

“I didn’t?” you ask, distracted by the food, “Huh, well, this where I work, always at your service.”

“Your boyfriend works at a Music Store, and you forget to mention your work in music,” Yoongi says sarcastically.

“I did say I worked at this building,” you roll your eyes with a smile thinking his joking.

“I always thought it was the other one with the medical offices,” he coughs, scratching the back of his neck in awkwardness.

“This is a huge miscommunication, my bad,” you say sheepishly, taking a bite of the sushi he bought for you.

Yoongi doesn’t know how to feel. He hates the building company for denying him the opportunity of becoming an artist. They were clearly against him being a hybrid despite having the talent. And here you are, working happily in what he wanted. You’re living his dream. It should make you perfect for him, yet all he feels is resentment.

You don’t sense his internal ‘debate’ as you eat. You’re too much in your head over the deadlines you have to meet. It doesn’t work in your favor as Yoongi leaves with a kiss on your cheeks with the excuse of a delivery to the shop. He had to get out of there and think clearly before he blew up on you.

He spends the whole day thinking about how you can work in a company that is against hybrids. He lets his losses get to him and project to you. So when you arrive at his apartment that night to spend time with him, he doesn’t greet you and just spits out, “How can you work in that company?”

“Excuse me?” You ask him, confused you haven’t even taken off your coat.

“That’s such a horrible company, Blue! They discriminate against hybrids. I can’t believe you’d work in such a place,” he argues, standing before you. His posture is tense and his ears and tail lay flat against his body.

“Yoongi, what the fuck? What are you going on about? The company is not against hybrids,” You exclaim, taking a step back.

“Of course they are. I lived through it,” Yoongi reveals.

You pause with wide eyes, “When? You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“Five years ago, I went to audition as a producer. They said that despite my talent, they wouldn’t hire me,” he says, fingers raking through his dark hair.

“That’s unbelievable,” you huff, crossing your arms defensively. Many hybrids work at the company, and she’s never heard complaints of the boss treating them poorly.

“How can you not believe me, your boyfriend, and believe the awful people,” Yoongi scolds her angrily. You can’t be so blind.

“Because that’s my family!” You yell, shutting him up.

“What?” Yoongi goes slack at your words.

“My dad is the company’s CEO, and I can assure you we are not discriminatory against hybrids. For fucks sake, Yoongi, you’ve met Jungkook. Would people who hate hybrids adopt one?”

You don’t like to pull out often that your dad is the CEO of the family company, but this is Yoongi you’re talking to. He cares about you, and you’ve been together long enough that it feels okay for him to know. Besides, maybe this way, he’ll understand that what he says is a lie.

His following words slip with little thought. “Who knows, maybe you just want to look good to the public?”

“If that’s what you think, fine. I’m leaving,” you respond firmly. You will not take anyone speaking shit about your family. It hurts you to hear him say those things. By insulting your family, he insults you too.

You hope Yoongi stops you, but he doesn’t. He knows what he was told. He stays silent, waiting for you to go. He’s set on his way.

It’s one long week where you barely talk to Yoongi. You give him time to apologize or reach out, but he doesn’t. When he realizes his mistake of comparing you to the ones that hurt him, you don’t answer.

○●○●○●○●○●

It has to be a mistake. There is no way your father, who runs the company, turned someone down for being a hybrid. Hell, half of the staff are hybrids. Producers, artists, HR, everything. There are hybrids in all departments. How come Yoongi didn’t see that when he visited.

You’ve spent enough time stewing on this. Time to go to the source, your father. You knock on his office door and hear faintly, “Come in.”

“Darling, how nice of you to visit your old man,” your dad jokes, standing from his desk to hug you.

“Sorry, dad, I’ve been swamped,” you apologize, plopping down on one of the plush chairs in front of his desk.

“I know, I’ve seen your reports, and you’re doing well. I’m proud of you,” he smiles at his daughter, expecting one in return. Instead, she plays with a loose thread on her sweater, not paying attention to him. “What troubles you?”

“You know the guy I’m dating,” you sigh, looking up at your dad.

“Yoongi, yes,” he nods, remembering everything you’ve told him about Yoongi.

“Apparently, he auditioned here like 7-ish years ago, and he says that you or whoever was in his audition didn’t accept him because he was a hybrid,” you say. It’s best not to beat around the bush.

“Really?” He asks, concerned, “Let me look it up.”

In times like these, he’s glad the company keeps a database of all the auditions and interview processes. One of his goals as CEO is to eliminate barriers between all kinds of people, giving them all a fair chance of working here.

“I have his file up. I remember him. He was very talented. He never came back. What a shame,” he hums, rewatching the audition.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“I couldn’t accept him at the time, but I told him to come in a year or two for another audition,” your father explains, passing you a flash drive with the audition.

“Why didn’t you accept him at the time?”

“It wouldn’t be beneficial for him at the time the regulations for hybrids in big companies were not good. They basically required full background screenings and medical exams. And the health benefits were basically nonexistent. Most hybrids don’t have past experiences, and if they do, they’re bad not because they are, but because of the situation they are put through. It wasn’t until a year later they eliminated that law, and their rights were looking better.”

“That makes sense,” you sigh in relief. You shouldn’t have doubted your family.

“If he wants, he can have another audition. You know we’re always looking for new producers.”

“Thanks, dad, I’ll mention it to him,” you smile, leaving.

This is great! Yoongi can audition, and he’ll be able to work alongside you. You just know he’ll do so well. He already has an excellent ear for music. He may be a bit rusty, but nothing a little practice can’t help. She can lend him a hand too!

“Send him my apologies. I never wanted it to seem the wrong way.”

“I will,” you say, rushing out the door.

A knock on the door interrupts Yoongi’s evening nap. He opens the door expecting Jimin or Jin, but you’re at the door with your arms crossed.

“You’re an idiot,” you shoulder him to walk into the apartment.

“I know. I’m sorry, Blue, I shouldn’t have overreacted and assumed things about you,” Yoongi sincerely apologizes.

“You think?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m apologizing, don’t be a bitch,” Yoongi pouts, not liking your attitude.

“It’s just you infuriate me. I’ve been good to you. I don’t think I’ve ever done something to hurt you, and if I have, I’m sorry. But what you did was so unfair. Even if my family were as horrible as you made them seem, I’m not them. And I haven’t given you a reason to believe that,” you lightly argue. You’re not looking to pick a fight. You just want him to understand.

Yoongi hugs you from behind. His words don’t mean anything right now. He lets you vent. You relax against him eventually, grabbing the arms that were around you.

“I talked to my dad,” you whisper, “you misunderstood the situation, Yoongs.”

“Blue, I’m sure of what I heard,” he whispers back.

“My dad records his auditions for moments like this,” you say, handing him the flash drive. “You were great Yoong’s, and they would’ve hired you. They didn’t because it wouldn’t have been helpful for you.”

You explain the situation and your father’s words. If he had gone through the audition, the government tracking hybrids wouldn’t process his applications. That’s why your father told him to return.

“I-how could I have misunderstood this so badly,” Yoongi sighs defeated. He could’ve been so much happier sooner if he had only listened. He could’ve been a producer already. He would’ve met you a long time ago as well.

“It was seven years ago. You were hurt and wanted a reason to be mad,” you comfort him.

“I’ve spent seven years glaring at the building for nothing,” Yoongi humorously laughs.

“My dad says if you want an audition, you have it,” you tell him.

“Really?” Yoongi looks at you, “I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. I gave up on that dream long ago.”

Being a producer was his biggest dream, yet after the disappointment, he instilled in himself, he came to the conclusion that giving up on his dream was for the best. Now he’s not sure he can visualize himself as a producer.

“If you change your mind, the opportunity is there.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Your relationship has kept you so busy you can’t remember the last time you went out with Hoseok and Tae to karaoke. You send them a quick text, and they both agree to meet. As per their request, you bring Yoongi and Jungkook along. The more, the merrier.

Hoseok and Tae are waiting when you get there. They’ve already picked a room. The group orders drinks, which quickly creates a buzz in the room. It takes them no less than 20 minutes to get the party going.

While you and Taehyung duet an old 80s song, Hoseok approaches Yoongi. He’d heard about Yoongis’s job offer and wondered if he would take it.

“You said no?” Hoseok repeats, his facial expression clearly surprised.

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, taking a sip from his drink. He lightly laughs at you and Tae’s terrible rendition.

“Why? I thought it was your dream,” Hoseok asks. He knows what the job entitles. He’s worked at the company for some years now. It’s challenging and frustrating. It’ll drain you of all inspiration faster than you’d think, yet he wouldn’t do anything else in the world. His stunt at the cafe months ago confirmed that.

“It is or was. I don’t know; I feel out of touch. When I went to Blue’s office, there was so much equipment I hadn’t even seen. It’s been a while since I’ve produced too. I write less and less as the years go on,” Yoongi sighs, being honest with Hoseok.

“How about you come to my studio this week? Check it out. I can show you around. It’s not as intimidating as it seems, and I know you’ve got the talent,” Hoseok offers kindly, no strings attached.

In his mind giving Yoongi space from you is good. That way, Yoongi is not pressured to agree with whatever you say or do.

“You’ve never heard anything of mine,” Yoongi rebukes.

“Haven’t I, Gloss?” Hoseok laughs.

Yoongi’s expression is priceless. He left the underground business when he got rejected by your company. He hasn’t been called that in years.

“That’s right, I know my people,” Hoseok laughs. He didn’t recognize him at the cafe, but after you told him about the audition, he did some digging.

“Alright, I’ll go check it out,” Yoongi nods.

Maybe Hoseok was right. Perhaps an hour or two in a neutral studio can inspire or convince him. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he never envisioned himself working his whole life at the music store.

“Yoongi, come on, it’s our turn,” Jungkook calls over, holding a microphone.

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi returns to your apartment the morning after. The smell hits him as he exits the elevator- someone is in heat. He ignores it, but the closer he gets to your door, the harder it is to ignore. Realizing it’s coming from your apartment, he rushes in to find you pacing in the living room in distress.

“What are you doing here while Jungkook is in heat?” Yoongi hisses, staying by the door.

“Thank god you’re here, Yoongi! I don’t know what to do. This hasn’t happened before,” you cry, hugging your boyfriend.

With his arms around you, Yoongi drags you outside, closing the door behind you guys. The more distance between you and Jungkook, the better. If the smell is strong in the hallway, he can’t imagine being inside it. He fears the effect it can have on him if he breathes the scent for too long. It’s not uncommon for a hybrid’s heat to trigger another’s.

“What do you mean this is the first time it happens?” Yoongi asks. Jungkook is a 21-year-old hybrid. He must’ve gotten his heat around 7 or 8 years ago.

“Jungkook usually takes these pills to ease off his heat. He’s been taking them ever since he got his first one. I think he hasn’t been taking them ’cause he’s been spending more time in my apartment.” You try to explain, although you know very little about the subject, despite living with a hybrid for most of your childhood.

Jungkook’s bunny habits are well known in your family, and you’ve learned about hybrids, too, because of him. Heats, though, was always a subject Jungkook kept to himself because he didn’t feel comfortable sharing that part of his life with his sister. When the first one rolled around, it wasn’t so bad, and after your parents offered him the pills, he accepted. Since then, he hasn’t paid much attention to it.

It all makes sense to Yoongi now. The pills you talk about are expensive but highly effective. They basically stop a hybrid from having heat or make them asymptomatic. He’s never had the luxury of taking them, but he’s heard much about them. Enough to know that Jungkook’s heat will be more intense after not having it for so many years.

“This is bad, Blue!” Yoongi tells you, hands on your shoulders.

“What am I going to do? He’s in so much pain and won’t stop sweating and groaning!” You exclaim on the verge of tears.

“There is nothing to do,” Yoongi carefully says, “Pack a bag. We can go to my apartment while he rides this through.”

“There has to be something, Yoongi. I can’t just leave him like that!” You’re upset he would suggest leaving your brother behind in such conditions.

Your worry about Jungkook is blinding you. The gravity of the situation not making sense to you. So Yoongi takes it upon himself to explain, “He’ll be uncomfortable and in pain, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He’ll survive, and in a few days, he’ll be good as new. Your presence here can make things much worse, Blue.”

“How can you say that? I saw you when you were in heat, and I was with you. I hated seeing you like that. How do you expect me to ignore Jungkook’s pain and pretend it’s not there.” You interrupt him in distress.

“Because the only way he’ll feel relieved is for him to fuck someone. He needs to get off to relieve his temperature and relieve the pain. That’s a heat. And unless someone magically appears and volunteers, there’s nothing you can do,” Yoongi grits out, frustrated at the situation. Jungkook’s strong scent started to fuzz his brain.

“Yoongi! There has to be something….” You say, not believing Yoongi’s words.

He’s getting mad that you’re not listening, and his following words come out rough, “I already told you, have sex with Jungkook or get out.”

“I’m not doing that. He’s my brother!” You and Jungkook might not be related by blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to have sex with him. If you could, you would, but you don’t believe either can get through the mental block. Ruining your relationship with your brother is not in your plans any time soon.

“Adopted brother,” Yoongi points out. You hit him in the arm, angry at his unhelpful responses, which only gets him angrier.

“Fine, get him a hooker. That will get him feeling good in no time. Still, we have to leave.” Yoongi insists, desperate to get out of the building before he gets horny.

“He is not having sex with a stranger. I refuse!”

“Well, that only leaves me, and that’s not happening,” Yoongi replies, crossing his arms.

You pause your argument, thinking it wouldn’t be the most outrageous idea. If someone were to help him, Yoongi would be perfect for it. He’s a hybrid, too, who has had to go through his ruts mostly alone.

“Are you set on that?” You ask with a grimace. You feel bad asking this of Yoongi, but you’re desperate to help Jungkook.

He looks at you in disbelief, “You are not suggesting I have sex with your brother?”

“Yoongi, just help him for now. I know the first day is the worst. Just for today, help him, please.”

“Blue, do you understand what you’re saying?” He understands what you’re saying but is unsure you do. This is a lot, and the worst part is that he’s actually considering it. It must be Jungkook’s pheromones all in the air affecting his.

“Yes, I do. I know this isn’t romantic or anything. You’re only helping him.” you nod, decided.

“Once,” Yoongi grits out, a dead serious look on his face. “I’ll be helping him this once but never again.”

“Okay,” you nod, at a loss for words.

Yoongi shoves his keys in your hands, “Go to my apartment. I’ll get there later with your bag.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You speak before walking down the hallway. Before entering the elevator, you look back at Yoongi, who nods at the elevator, urging you to go. He doesn’t want you in the vicinity if he’s doing this.

He takes a minute to himself, gathering the courage to do this. All doubt disappears when he opens the door and breathes in Jungkook’s pheromones. He finds Jungkook’s room and opens the door. The bunny is lying face down in bed naked. His hips rutting into the bed to feel any type of relief. His back glistens with sweat, and his dark hair sticks to his neck.

“Hey, Kook,” Yoongi says, walking to the bed.

“Yoongi?” Jungkook says in a haze, propping himself up on his elbows, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. If he were in his right mind, he’d instantly stop and cover up. He didn’t want to, though. He had to make the pain disappear.

“I’m here to help. Is that okay?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Please,” Jungkook chokes, “It hurts so much.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Yoongi soothes him, a long finger trailing down his back. Reaching the base of his spine Yoongi tugs on the black cottontail. Jungkook whines thrusting harder against the mattress.

“Turn around,” Yoongi softly tells him.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I can’t-“

“If you don’t, then I can’t touch you, and you want me to touch you, right?” Yoongi asks him. Being in heat messes with every thought in your head. It makes hybrids think that even the smallest actions are impossible, and Jungkook suppressing his heat brings him back to step one.

With a groan Jungkook turns his body around, his cock bobs up and down as he settles on his back. Yoongi licks his lips, the bunny is so hard and ready to burst there’s a steady stream of precum coating his head.

Yoongi’s hand slides down Jungkook’s chest, admiring the hard muscle. It continues to trail down his abdomen until it reaches his pelvis. The younger boy’s hips rut, feeling Yoongi’s hands close to his cock.

Jungkook has not stopped moaning once, every little touch sending him waves of painful pleasure. He begs Yoongi to do anything, touch him, fuck him, suck him. Getting more comfortable between Jungkook’s legs, Yoongi starts stroking him. The bunny is hot and heavy in his palm. He spits in his hand for good measure, but it’s barely necessary. His thumb brushes over the dark pink tip, spreading the milky liquid down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, hand tugging at his hair and hips thrusting into Yoongi’s palm. His abs tense, showcasing the hard muscle underneath. It’s a sight for sore eyes that makes Yoongi’s pants tighten. Yoongi might’ve done this as a favor to you both, but he will enjoy this as much as he can.

“Look at me, Kook,” Yoongi calls the youngest’s attention, “Focus on me.”

The bunny’s hazy stare lands on the cat hybrid on top of him. He is also sweating, feeling the heat of the moment. His feline eyes are calculating, afraid of missing any of Jungkook’s response to his touch. The wet noise Yoongi’s hand makes as he flicks his wrist fills the room along with the bunny’s pleas.

Jungkook tries hard to keep his eyes on Yoongi, but when he feels his peak near, his eyes roll back, and his mouth opens. “That’s it, bunny, cum,” the cat hybrid encourages him, “You’ll feel so much better.”

Jungkook groans, feeling his peak, and it’s like some of the heat has dissipated. Ropes of white paint Yoongi’s hand and Jungkook’s stomach. Raising his hand to his lips, Yoongi licks the bunny’s cum, tasting him. Fuck, did he taste good. It would be a shame for Jungkook to miss it.

Leaning over, Jungkook Yoongi says, “Open your mouth, bunny.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand why but tentatively opens his mouth. Yoongi grabs his cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger and lets his saliva mixed with Jungkook’s cum, drip into the bunny’s mouth.

“Now swallow,” Yoongi orders him.

Jungkook obeys the cat hybrid, swallowing his spit. He never thought his own taste would arouse him and make him hard again in seconds. He blames it on the heat. With his temperature rising, Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s sides and flips them over. He kisses his sister’s boyfriend hard, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his pale neck, leaving a hard bite behind.

“Fuck,” Yoongi moans. He had forgotten that bunnies like to bite.

Jungkook needs to feel him close, touch him, taste him too. He takes off Yoongi’s hoodie and his t-shirt touching the older guy’s chest. He continues to kiss the cat hybrid, even biting his pouty lips. Yoongi lets him be in control for now. Jungkook needs to enjoy himself too.

Jungkook’s hard-on presses against Yoongi’s lower stomach, and feeling the skin-on-skin contact, Jungkook begins to thrust again, moaning into Yoongi’s mouth.

Jungkook is curious, curious about Yoongi and his body. He’s touched and kissed parts of him, but now he wants it all. With a goal in mind, Jungkook’s hand trails down the cat hybrid’s body to palm his length over his pants. Yoongi moans are swallowed by Jungkook, who continues to feverishly kiss him, but when he reaches for his belt, Yoongi stops him.

“Not today, bunny,” he breathes, the grip on Jungkook’s wrist tight, “Today, I get to use you as I please.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brown eyes filled with disappointment.

“You heard me,” Yoongi says, sliding out from under him, “Sit up.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yoongi kneels between his muscular legs.

Jungkook’s cock is equally hard as in the beginning, begging for attention. With a hand on Jungkook’s knee and another on his cock, Yoongi licks a stripe along the vein that runs up the shaft, instantly making Jungkook release a throaty moan.

“Look at me, bunny,” Yoongi purrs, “If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

Jungkook’s head snaps back down to stare at Yoongi, whose wet tongue licks the head of his cock. He coats the entire length with his spit with kisses and licks. Yoongi’s pink lips momentarily wrap around his cockhead as his tongue swirls the tip. He knows he’s teasing the poor bunny. It’s his way of pleasure to see the younger hybrid fall to pieces in splutters and stutters.

Yoongi teases him, going slow and shallow, drawing little whines from Jungkook’s swollen lips. Jungkook tries to push his cock more into Yoongi’s mouth, but the cat already sees it coming and pulls away.

“Yoongi, pl-ease,” Jungkook begs, teary-eyed. By now, he’s long forgotten about pleasing Yoongi as the fever inside of him gets higher.

“What’s that, Kook?” Yoongi feigns innocence, a string of saliva attaching him to Jungkook’s hard cock.

“D-don’t tease,” Jungkook stutters out. He tries to stroke himself in desperate need, only for Yoongi to stop him.

“So impatient,” Yoongi chastises, holding Jungkook’s wrist tightly, “Hands on your sides.”

Jungkook complains at the request, earning a glare from the cat hybrid, “If you’re not going to listen, I’ll leave,” he threatens. He’s just like his sister. For a moment, Yoongi entertains the idea of dominating you both simultaneously. What a treat it would be.

“No, no!” Jungkook exclaims, grabbing fistfuls of the crumpled bedsheets.

Yoongi smirks at the pretty bunny above him. His hair is messy from raking his fingers through it, long floppy ears falling to the sides, and cheeks flushed with arousal. He wants Jungkook to feel all the pleasure he can. While having sex without the rut is nice and fun, there’s something so satisfying about sex while in heat. No matter how small, every touch is amplified and can push you to the edge.

Now that Jungkook is obedient, Yoongi takes his length back into his mouth. He works getting most of Jungkook down his throat, Yoongi’s eyes water, but it doesn’t stop him. Bobbing his head to a steady rhythm, he sucks Jungkook off, his tongue occasionally dipping into the slit of his tip. The bunny is trying his best, the veins running up his arms popping from the tight grip on the bed. When Yoongi takes him deeper than before, the grip loosens as his right hand goes to the base of his cat ears.

Almost instantly, Yoongi purrs around his cock, enticing Jungkook to thrust up. It feels so good it’s overwhelming. With Jungkook pushing on his head Yoongi deep throats him, his nose brushing against the bunny’s base. Yoongi will never admit that while it hurts, he loves the feeling of a big cock down his throat.

With a few more bobs of Yoongi’s head, Jungkook bursts. His cum runs down the cat hybrid’s throat. Yoongi breathes heavily when he releases Jungkook. His eyes are red and watery, as are his nose and mouth. He continues to lightly lick Jungkook, entertained by the way his bunny ears twitch at the feeling.

Yoongi gets up from the floor as Jungkook falls back on the bed. The bunny hybrid is exhausted as his fever goes down to a normal temperature. Yoongi helps him lie back properly and covers him with the wrinkly bedsheet. Before Yoongi leaves the room, he brushes through Jungkook’s hair with his fingers, lightly rubbing the base of his bunny ears. The sleepy bunny makes an appreciative sound as his touch lulls him to sleep completely.

This is the worst of the heat. He should be able to take care of himself from tomorrow onwards. Yoongi leaves the food and water ready for Jungkook by the nightstand. Hopefully, when he’s awake, he’ll feel better.

Yoongi goes to your room to pack your bag. In there, your scent hits him mixed with Jungkook’s pheromones. If the bunnies had driven him mad, yours added to the mix just about ended him.

He lies in your bed by your pillow where your scent is strongest. It only takes him a second to undo his belt and pull his throbbing cock out of his pants. Spitting in his hand Yoongi flicks his wrist quickly, needing a release. He had his reasons for not letting Jungkook touch him, one being that it wouldn’t be fair for the bunny hybrid. He’d been in pain for too long. The other reason was you. He’d happily done this favor for you, but now you had to pay up.

Reaching a moment of clarity, Yoongi slows his pace until he stops right before his release. He stands from the bed, tucking himself in again uncomfortably, and prepares your bag. As soon as he gets to his apartment, he’ll have his way with you, and the pent-up frustration will be worth it.

○●○●○●○●○●

Almost a year into the relationship, you decide it’s time for Yoongi to meet your parents. You organize a nice dinner at your parent’s house, they don’t have to do anything you’ll be the one cooking and setting the table.

Yoongi would get there later, Jungkook as well. You thought it would be nice to have moral support. Unfortunately, you took so long to cook that Yoongi arrived while you were getting ready, which means that your dad got the pleasure of greeting him at the door.

“Ah, if it isn’t Yoongi,” your dad exclaims cheerily, opening the door wider for Yoongi.

“Hello, I got this for you,” Yoongi nervously hands him a bottle of wine. It’s the one you mentioned your dad likes.

“I was hoping it would be the flowers,” your dad jokes, happily taking the wine.

“Is that Yoongi?” A friendly voice calls from the kitchen. Your mom walks out, surprising Yoongi with a warm hug. He hands her the flowers, which she gushes about. “Such a polite boy, don’t be shy. We don’t bite, we’ll except for Jungkookie.”

Yoongi stifles a smile because doesn’t he know it. Not only has he witnessed Jungkook shamelessly biting you when you get distracted, but that day where he needed help with his heat he left Yoongi with a few nasty marks. Marks which you later covered with your own.

“Honey, I’ll be showing Yoongi my office. We’ll be back soon,” your dad says, patting Yoongi on the back.

Yoongi is nervous, terrified even. His cat ears flatten as he follows your dad to his office. He’s only heard good things about him from you, but how reliable is that? Of course, he’s good to you and Jungkook, his kids. Yoongi is a stranger.

Yoongi sits in one of the chair desks awkwardly, looking around the room. Your dad looks him up and down as if deciding on Yoongi. From looks alone, Yoongi seems like a good man, but he needs to make his concerns known.

“Why are you with my daughter?” He asks straight to the point, his friendly smile disappearing.

“Because I love her,” Yoongi responds as best as he can.

There are a million reasons why he is with you. You’re kind, pretty, intelligent, sexy, talented, honest, and so much more. Despite all the arguments you’ve had you’ve never brought the fact his a hybrid into it. All those qualities led him to love you, the most important reason he is with you.

“It has nothing to do with her job and position in the company? How it may benefit you, Yoongi?” Your dad asks. If he didn’t ask these questions, he wouldn’t be doing his job as a father. The older man needs peace of mind that Yoongi’s intentions are the right ones.

“No. I didn’t even know she worked there till two months ago. By then, I had already fallen in love with her. I wouldn’t take advantage of her that way even if I had known before. Blue is one of the kindest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

Your father’s tense posture relaxes, and his grin returns, “Good answer. I hope you understand why I had to ask the question. I am only a concerned father.”

“I do. Can I ask a question myself?”

“Go ahead.”

“You don’t mind that your daughter is dating a hybrid?” Yoongi insecurely asks.

“Not at all. I believe hybrids are equal, if not better, than regular humans. My children have the liberty of dating whoever they please, and I’ll approve as long as they are treated with love and respect.”

Hybrids have a good judge of character, and Yoongi can tell that he is honest and means what he says. Fear aside, he is happy to have had this conversation with your dad.

“Daddy, Yoongi?” You call them, walking in the direction of the office.

“In here, sweetheart,” your dad responds.

“Dad, stop questioning Yoongi. It’s time for dinner,” you tell him, shooting Yoongi a reassuring grin.

“I wasn’t questioning, just having a man-to-man conversation,” he says, walking out of the office.

“Mhm,” you say, rolling your eyes. He does this with each boyfriend you’ve brought home.

“Hi, handsome,” you greet Yoongi, holding out your hand for him to take. He dressed up for the occasion, wanting to impress. He succeeded.

“Hey, Blue,” he says, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” you peck him on the lips, brushing your thumb on his lips to get rid of the remaining lipstick.

“I heard that!” Your dad screams from the stairs with a laugh.

“Keep walking, old man,” you yell back, shaking your head with a smile.

Dinner was fun, and Yoongi felt like he was with family. Your family was very much like you, kind and accepting. Funny as hell, he smiled or laughed throughout most of the dinner. If he had to guess, he would’ve never known your dad was the CEO of a family company. He was very down to earth.

Not that he doubted, but your parents truly treated Jungkook as their own. The bunny hybrid has all of this family wrapped around his little finger. You grab his hand under the table and smile at him. He smiles back sincerely. He can see himself being part of this family for a long time. It heals the part of his broken heart that he thought was beyond repair.

“Let me go get dessert,” your mom announces, sanding from the table.

“I’ll help,” Yoongi pipes up, following the older lady to the kitchen.

“Now that I’ve got you here, I want to thank you,” your mom says as she cuts the chocolate cake you baked earlier.

“What for?” Yoongi asks, handing her the plates to place the cakes on.

“For helping our Jungkookie out,” she casually mentions.

Yoongi chokes on his own saliva, his mind going straight to him helping Jungkook through his heat. It was a given that it was something to keep to themselves. How close is Jungkook to his mom that he felt it was okay to tell her that Yoongi gave him not only a handjob but a blowjob? Furthermore, how can she be okay with her daughter’s boyfriend handing out favors like that to her son?

“He loves those damn vynils so much, he wouldn’t stop talking about how you gave him two limited edition ones,” she fondly laughs at her son.

“Oh, that. Yeah, no problem,” Yoongi sighs in relief. His spirit had left his body for a moment there.

“Let’s go before they start talking about the company. The dinner table is a no-work conversation zone,” your mom says, ushering Yoongi out of the kitchen as she hears her husband talking about numbers and beats.

○●○●○●○●○●

Tuesday, after dropping off lunch at your office Yoongi wanders to Hoseoks office, taking him up on his offer. He knocks, waiting for his new friend to open the door. Hoseok gives him a small tour of his studio and explains some of the newer equipment’s purposes to adjust Yoongi to the environment. Hoseok was right. This isn’t as intimidating as he’d thought. In fact, once he got the hang of it, inspiration returned to him.

“Go on, try and make a beat,” Hoseok encourages him. He already loves what Yoongi has to offer based on conversations alone. One of the reasons he left the company for a few months was for lack of inspiration. Although talented, none of the other producers offered something that spoke to him.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Yoongi tells Hoseok, knowing he is imposing on his work schedule.

“I have a meeting now, actually. It should take about two hours. Have fun,” Hoseok says, picking up his jacket from a small sofa off to the corner. Without looking behind him, he leaves Yoongi alone in the studio. Looking at the closed door, Yoongi shrugs and puts on the headphones, working on a melody that has been bothering him for the past two years. Might as well.

Getting the hang of the equipment, he falls deep into a creative flow. He barely notices time go by. The piano notes carry him to new places in his mind as they fall into place in the track. It’s like a dam has been broken down. All he has flowing down at torrential speeds, with no one there to stop him.

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump and tear the headphones from his ears. Heightened senses fail him as Hoseok stands behind him, looking amused at his startled expression.

“The meeting ran late. I thought you’d gone home. Are you okay?” Hoseok asks. His two-hour meeting turned into four. The project’s creators fell into discord about what creative direction they should take it.

“I’m okay. I didn’t notice it had been two hours,” Yoongi says, looking at his watch.

“It be like that sometimes,” Hoseok giggles. He’s found himself in that position before. Music tends to dominate the creator most times. “Want to show me what you got?”

Yoongi nods, turning on the chair to give Hoseok a pair of headphones. Hoseok expected something good but unpolished, considering Yoongi’s time away from producing. The first note of the track proves him wrong. Hoseok does not speak for the duration of the track taking in the masterpiece Yoongi created.

Hoseok is amazed Yoongi managed to inspire him more than most of the producers that work in the company. It’s raw and heartfelt, honest. It comes from a place of experience.

“You did this in four hours?” Hoseok asks, amazed.

“I mean, I’ve had part of the melody for years, but the rest, yeah,” Yoongi says nervously. Does Hoseok think it’s trash?

“It’s phenomenal. You have to consider joining the company!”

“Seriously?”

“Yoongi, you’ve got me feeling more with that track than I have in a good while,” Hoseok confesses.

Hoseok is boosting Yoongi’s confidence and ego. He forgot the effect his music can have on people. It’s addicting.

Someone interrupts them by knocking on the door and peaking their head in. It’s a wolf hybrid Yoongi recognizes. “Namjoon?”

“Hi, Yoongi!” The hybrid smiles widely, fist-bumping him.

“I see you two know each other,” Hoseok says, searching for the hard drive Namjoon came for.

“Yeah, Yoongi sometimes comes to the concerts and helps sell tapes,” Namjoon says.

“Well, his girlfriend recruited you,” Hoseok tells him.

“Blue recruited him?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“Yeah, she bought one of his tapes from your store and liked what he had to offer,” Hoseok explains, handing Namjoon the hard drive.

“She hunted me down until I said yes,” Namjoon laughs, remembering that moment from months ago.

“Can I ask about the conditions of working here? With us being hybrids and all?” Yoongi asks Namjoon. While Hoseok has helped him so much, he needs the insight of a hybrid who works at the company to fully convince him.

“I can honestly say this job is one of the few that treats their workers equally. So far, I haven’t had a single bad or sketchy situation. If you have an opportunity to join, take it! It’d be nice to have you on the music scene again.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi has much to consider, but the more time he spends here, the more convinced he is.

○●○●○●○●○●

“What would you say if I accepted your dad’s job offer?” Yoongi asks you one night while you are getting ready for bed.

“I’d say I’m thrilled and proud of you, Yoongs,” you grin at him through the mirror.

“You wouldn’t mind working with me?” He says as he walks up behind you, eyes locked on you through the reflection.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, “I know it might seem like too much, but I assure you we won’t see each other so much that it’ll come to that.”

You and Hoseok barely see each other in the office since you mostly work on different projects. While Hoseok is a producer, he is also an artist, so he mainly works on his own stuff. On the other hand, you work for female artists and girl groups.

“I’m more worried about you being sick of me,” he jokes, throwing an arm over your chest to pull you close to him.

“Don’t be. I love you. When I get sick of you will be the day hell freezes over,” you say, looking up at him.

“I want to work on something that will make you proud and won’t make you regret your decision,” he whispers. He wants to be successful for you. You deserve only the best.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Yoongi. No matter what you do, ill be proud of it, even if it’s a kid’s song about tomatoes.” You think there is nothing Yoongi can do to disappoint you.

“I don’t think the parents will appreciate my swearing,” he admits with a laugh, knowing how much he swears.

You laugh along, “Me either. Maybe that will set you apart from the competition. Oh! How about a cursing alphabet?!”

“You’re a genius,” Yoongi fake gasps, making you giggle. He sweetly kisses your cheek, “Let’s go to bed.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi hires a new employee for the Music Store in a matter of weeks and begins his new job. As you said, he doesn’t get to see you much, if only brief glimpses in the hallway before you get pulled away to a meeting or studio.

With Hoseoks and Namjoon’s help, he quickly gets the hang of everything in the studio. Currently, he’s a producer. He creates music he likes and collaborates with artists who want to use his songs.

It’s been smooth sailing; his supervisors and senior producers are happy with his efficiency and creativity. They often seek him out for input on work of their own. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

He delves into his work, giving it his all. It’s everything he ever wanted and more. But with that also comes pressure. Pressure to improve and better himself. Like he wants to upstage himself every day, and that takes time.

○●○●○●○●○●

A Saturday morning two months after Yoongi began working at the company, you wake up to your boyfriend sitting at your desk working away.

He can’t hear you, as you call him, because of the massive headphones over his ears. You let the sheets fall off your naked body and walk over to him, sitting on his lap.

“Morning, Blue,” he says, kissing your head and hugging your waist, preventing you from sliding off his lap. Yet his eyes stay trained on the computer.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, ignoring the computer to kiss his neck.

“Just finishing something up,” he sighs as his grip tightens on your hip.

“I was thinking we could go out today to the countryside, drive around and get some fresh air,” you suggest, brushing his hair away from his eyes. His cat ears flicker on the top of his head with the gesture.

“Give me an hour to finish this?” He asks, looking down at you.

“A kiss first,” you say.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a smile and leans down to press his lips against yours. You pull him closer by the neck, deepening the kiss. You’ve missed him. Now that he doesn’t work at the store, he doesn’t have as much time to spare.

You see each other every day, mainly in the mornings and late at night when he returns from work. You haven’t said anything about the matter giving him time to adjust to his new job and schedule.

“Alright, one hour,” you say, standing from his lap. Before you walk away, you feel a smack to your butt. “Hey!”

“Couldn’t resist,” Yoongi laughs as you rub your butt cheek to soothe the sting.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you pout, escaping to the bathroom.

Yoongi quickly got ready one hour later, and you both headed off to the countryside. Yoongi drives your car with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.

“Is it everything you expected it to be?” You ask Yoongi about his job.

“It’s better than I ever thought, Blue. And I have you to thank,” he says, squeezing your thigh.

“I mean, I only cleared up a misunderstanding. You’re doing all the work, Mr. Genius,” you grin.

Everything you’ve heard about Yoongi has been good. As a company member, it makes you happy that he works there, and as his girlfriend, it makes you proud. Everyone can see how amazing he is, and he’s all yours.

“Tell me, what songs have I heard that you’ve worked on,” he asks you.

The day was yours to enjoy, and you did. You needed this time with Yoongi. You had been so used to spending so much time together that you missed him like crazy.

Yoongi needed this too you are his inspiration, after all.

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi taps his foot on the floor of the elevator. The company’s CEO, aka your dad, called him up to his office. He sounded normal on the phone not mad, so maybe it’s just a catch-up?

Still, his survival instincts tell him he’s in trouble and should run. He shoves them to the back of his head as the elevator dings and opens its doors.

The secretary tells him to go on ahead into the office. Your dad is there, ruffling through paperwork and signing documents.

“Yoongi, you’re here, good!”

“Is everything alright?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the seat.

“Yes and no,” he says, folding his hands on the desk.

“Oh?” Yoongi simply responds over the knot in his throat.

“Relax, Yoongi, it’s nothing too bad,” the man reassures him,” I really like that track you submitted, as did many of the artists.”

“Really?” Yoongi says with a small smile.

“Yes, the problem is no one has managed to capture it as well as you,” the CEO explains.

“I’m sorry. Should I continue working on it? Submit a new track?” Yoongi’s insecurity causes him to ramble and miss the CEO’s point.

“No, Yoongi. I was actually thinking of you performing them,” he explains.

“But I’m not an artist; I’m a producer.”

“That’s true, but there’s one step more to become an artist, only if you’d like that,” the man says, offering Yoongi what most would believe is a promotion.

“You want me to be an artist?” Yoongi questions, did he hear right?

“Yes, much like Hoseok or Namjoon. You already have this track, and I know you’ve been working on others with those you can create an album,” the man suggests encouragingly. “What do you say?”

“What if people don’t like me?” Yoongi wonders.

“We can do a test, arrange for you to open for Hoseok’s show, and get a feel of the vibe,” your dad says.

“I’ll do it,” Yoongi nods, “Thank you, sir.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Depending on who you ask, the CEO’s decision was both good and bad. For Yoongi, it’s a dream come true. After he performed his single in Hoseok’s concert, it was clear that most loved the song and the passion Yoongi brought to the stage. You were in the crowd, cheering him on louder than anyone.

But with great power comes great responsibility. If Yoongi was a workaholic as a producer, he’s even more so as an artist working on his new album. He feels the need to prove a point and create a near-perfect album.

His days and nights are spent at the studio, and whenever he’s not there, he’s also at home working.

You have supported him every step, offering him advice when he asks. You make sure he eats at least two meals a day and sleeps a few hours a day.

As the weeks go by, it’s like your relationship has been on the back burner and is no longer a priority. You let it pass, knowing this is important to Yoongi. He’ll snap out of it soon enough.

As five o’clock comes around one Friday night, you go to Yoongis studio. You both get off work at the same time maybe you could go home together as well. Yoongi has been staying till nearly midnight in the studio this whole week and leaving home stupidly early. The only indication that he slept with you being the kisses on the forehead he gives you when he gets home.

You knock on the door in case he is in a meeting, but his voice lets you know you can go in. He’s slouched in his rolling chair as a beat replays on the speakers.

“You okay, Yoongs?” You ask, having the feeling that he’s not.

“Frustrated,” he says pointedly over the music.

Coming up behind him, you hug him as best you can. He grabs one of your arms around him and kisses the back of your hand.

“Take a break from it,” you say, “Let’s go home. You can come back Monday.”

“I can’t, Blue. I’m so close to finishing it,” Yoongi responds.

That seems to be his usual excuse nowadays ‘it’s almost done,’ and yet it’s not a lie. Yoongi just has a problem with self-control. As soon as he finishes a track, he starts another one.

Taking a more straightforward approach, you push his chair away from the desk, turning him around to face you. “You’re taking a break, Yoongi.”

“I don’t know, Blue,” he says, unconvinced.

“Yoongi, please,” you beg, sitting on his lap, “I need you,” you whisper in his ear.

Those words alone are enough to get Yoongi fired up. Guilt also seeps into his bones as he knows he’s neglected you a little. It’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve last been together, a rare occurrence. At a certain point in you’re relationship, you had sex every day of the week. He comes to the conclusion he has to pleasure you here and now. He can’t leave his Blue like this for another second.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close to kiss you. The kiss soon turns frantic with wet tongues and harsh bites. Yoongi’s hand leaves your hip as the other caresses one of your thighs. Slowly it stops at your knee and gently forces it apart to trail his hand under your skirt. He first squeezes the inside of your thigh, eliciting a soft moan from your swollen lips. With his index and middle finger, he presses your center over the thin material of your underwear. Yoongi works his fingers around the area, feeling the wetness seep out of you.

“More,” you sigh over his pink lips. Pulling your panties to the side, he traces your outer lips with his fingers making you needier by the second. A series of begs come out of your mouth, urging him to fuck you with his fingers at least. Light as a feather, he touches your sopping center up and down, toying with your clit. Your hips twitch the slightest bit, pleasing him beyond extremes. He loves to see you struggle.

Dragging his index finger down your folds, he pushes his finger in. He groans into your mouth, forgetting how oh-so-tight you are. “Yes, Yoongi, just like that,” you sensually moan as he moves his finger in and out. Soon he adds another finger, and he feels as if his fingers almost suffocate with how tightly your gripping them. “Fuck Blue, such a tight pussy. Will you be able to take my cock?”

“I can do it, Yoongi,” You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. Yoongi scissors his fingers, stretching you out. He can’t wait to be inside of you. His cock becomes rock hard, straining under his tight jeans at the thought of using your pussy. How could he let so much time pass? He’s an idiot.

“You should cum over my fingers first,” he murmurs, using his thumb to rub her clit in fast circles. It’s his goal to make her cum around his fingers first. Feel her walls pulse and tighten even more.

You squirm on top of him, chasing your release. With a few more thrusts of his curling fingers, you become undone. Your body uncontrollably tenses on top of him, your teeth biting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, causing him to moan. He hates to admit he likes that more than expected.

“Good girl, Blue,” Yoongi tells her, pulling his fingers out of her and spreading them to see the slickness between them. Your eyes watch as he places his fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Fuck,” you moan out at the erotic sight. You need his cock now. Standing from the uncomfortable chair, you undo the zipper of your skirt and let it fall to the ground, along with your shirt. Next goes your bra and panties, which you throw with your foot in his direction. He is quick to catch them and stuff them in his pocket. It might not be the first time he sees you wholly naked, but what a sight you are. Standing as you came into the world in his studio confidently, you have curves in all the right places and perky tits with pink nipples topping them off.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” You say with a wicked grin.

“You’re perfect.” not the first and hopefully not the last time Yoongi grabs his phone and snaps a picture. It doesn’t beat the real deal, but it does get him off whenever you’re not around.

Not wanting to be left behind, Yoongi removes his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion. To tease your needy ass, he takes his time unbuttoning his jeans while keeping his eyes focused on you. You’re biting your lip and playing with one of your nipples as he does. Finally, he eliminates the last layer of clothing, leaving him bare in front of you. You moan at the sight of him. His cock big and thick, a vein running along its length, and his tip almost red. Wetness coats your thighs, your mind plays too many scenarios to comprehend.

Both take rapid steps towards the other and meet in the middle with a searing kiss with tongues twisting together in a dance. You roam your hands over his arms, pecs, and toned stomach. His black tail brushes against your side at the same time. Sneakily you grab his cock in your hands, pumping it a few times. Yoongi gasps, breaking their kiss as you touch his sensitive head, spreading his precum on his length. He leads you to the small leather couch in his office and makes you straddle him. “Are you ready, Blue?” He asks, rubbing his tip back and forth on your slit, getting it wet with your slick.

“Just do it, please,” you beg, touching his shoulders. Yoongi lines his cock with your entrance and slowly pushes you down on him. You feel inch after inch entering you. You missed the feeling of him stretching you out. All you can do is hold onto his strong shoulders and moan.

Yoongi has to concentrate hard on not finishing too soon. The way your warm walls feel around him is excruciatingly good. He takes a moment to compose himself before he begins to slowly and deeply thrust up into you. “That’s it, Blue. Take it all,” he groans.

“Fuck, Yoongi feels so good. I missed you,” you sob into his ear.

The room is humid, with sounds of moans and the slapping of skin. Yoongi picks up the pace, moving your hips to the rhythm he set to fuck harder into you. You bounce on top of him, sweat trailing down your neck and into your chest. Leaning forward, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling repeatedly. He swears he can feel you get wetter as it coats his cock and the top of his thighs.

“You’re driving me insane, Blue.” He’s losing control. There is no way he’s lasting much longer. The closer he gets, the more irregular his thrusts become. With his fingers digging into your hips, he shoots his load inside you as you moan at the sensation of being filled. It warms you up, and with his cock still inside you, you feel full and satisfied. You don’t care at the moment you didn’t get to finish, you relish being this close to Yoongi.

Yoongi lays limp under her for a second, eyes scrunched and teeth biting his lower lip. You spread kisses on his jaw and neck, leaving little marks behind that will fade by morning. His skin is sweaty yet delicious as you lick up the column of his neck. Tugging his lip away from his teeth, you softly kiss him, lips slotting together flawlessly.

Being the gentleman he is, Yoongi unexpectedly gets up, wraps your legs around him, and sits you on his desk. He pulls out of you and observes his seed seeping out of your pink pussy. Kneeling on the floor, he then licks up your slit. You cry out from the sudden pleasure and sink your fingers in his hair, causing him to purr. Locking eyes with you, he pushes his tongue into you, tasting a mix of you and him. He rubs your clit as he licks until you can barely speak.

“O-oh my g-god, kitty,” you mewl, tilting your head back and propping yourself up with a hand before you collapse on the control panel.

The way your body reacts assures Yoongi you’re close. Speeding up his movements, his lips wrap around your clit and suck. Finally, as you climax, he bites down gently on your bundle of nerves amplifying whatever you were feeling before. With toes curled and no control of your body, you push Yoongi away before you pass out from the pleasure.

Coming down from your high, you look at Yoongi and begin laughing, “That was fucking great.”

“I had to make up for lost time,” Yoongi chuckles, standing between your legs and hugging you.

“Let’s go home?” You plead with your eyes.

“Let’s go home, Blue,” he says, playing with a strand of your hair.

○●○●○●○●○●

You give your keys to your car to the valet and walk into the fancy restaurant. Your parents had invited you to dinner to catch up, Yoongi was supposed to come but last minute, said he couldn’t because he had a lot going on.

What you hoped was only a phase has become routine. Too many times, Yoongi has canceled on you or stood you up. He sleeps in your apartment but gets home exhausted and barely speaks to you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

You thank the waiter as he pulls your chair out for you and pushes you in. Your parents are already sitting with a glass of wine.

“How are you, honey?” Your mom asks sweetly.

“I’m okay,” you respond, trying to pretend you are okay when in reality, you’re not yourself.

You never wanted to become the girl dependent on her boyfriend. You like to believe you’re not her. Then why is Yoongi’s absence affecting you so much? You’re known at work for your cheery, happy songs, yet all you’ve written for the past few weeks have been sad songs. They are bangers, but not what your artists require.

As soon as you walked in, your mom knew something was off. You’re not carrying yourself as you usually do, your shoulders are slumped, and you’re looking down at the ground as you walk.

“Where’s Yoongi? I thought he was coming.” She asks, immediately knowing the problem.

“He had a lot going on in the studio,” you repeat his excuse, swirling the wine served in your glass.

“I must say he has exceeded all expectations. I expect his album to be a hit,” your dad says excitedly, none the wiser.

“I’m happy to hear that. He’s so worried over it and is overworking himself,” you force a smile, “Just now, Yoongi was saying he was behind on a track.”

“Behind? Yoongi is ahead of schedule. I’ve told him to take a break,” your dad scoffs, looking over the menu.

“What?” You ask, meeting his gaze. All this time, he’s been telling you he’s behind. It’s one of the reasons you haven’t confronted him. You want him to do well, after all.

“At the speed he’s going, we can release his album two months before scheduled,” your dad shrugs.

“Good,” you say dryly.

Immediately after dinner, you rush back into the studio, finding Yoongi still holed up there. You slam the door open, startling him. He looks at you up and down, seeing you all dressed up, beautiful.

“How was dinner?” He asks, turning back around to face the screen. Missing your response, he turns back around, “What’s wrong?”

“Two months ahead? What the fuck, Yoongi?” You yell at him, arms crossed over your chest.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, standing from his chair to come closer to you.

With each step he takes forward, you take one back, “Your album. My dad just told me you’re ahead of schedule.”

“Well, yeah, but there is still so much work to do,” Yoongi responds sincerely as if there’s nothing wrong with his confession.

“I’ve let you do as you pleased, thinking you were still adapting, getting used to the industry, but you’ve been holed up in here, ignoring me because you want to?” You ask him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your throat.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” he shakes his head, trying to reach out to you.

“Yoongi, when was the last time we went on a date? Hell, the last time we had breakfast together?” You ask him, knowing it’s been far too long.

Yoongi stays silent, confirming your thoughts. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he was hired.

“Exactly, I can’t even remember when we had a proper conversation that wasn’t about work,” you say, frowning. You tried to ignore all the red flags but no more. This isn’t good for you or him.

“Blue, you don’t understand,” he begins saying.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You yell as your fists clench at your sides, “Min Yoongi, I’ve been working here for far longer than you have, and I have never once made you a second priority. I’ve always made time for you and checked up on you. My life is not my job; it’s only part of it. I understand this is your dream, and I want it for you so badly, Yoongi. I’ve been rooting for you all this time, and I still am. But I didn’t know that in achieving your dream, you would give me up. I want you to succeed, and I want to be by your side when you do. I want to be there for you in your new life, in your ups and downs. I want to be a part of us. But if you can’t commit to me, if you don’t let me be there for you, then what are we even doing?” Your eyes are welled with tears when you finish speaking. You refuse to let them fall.

You stand there vulnerable, letting Yoongi into your thoughts, and all he says is, “This is what I’ve always wanted, Blue.”

This. Not Us. Yoongi doesn’t want you that much is clear.

You don’t have any more fight in you. You’re tired of waiting on him. If he doesn’t want you, why stay?

“If you let me walk out, I’m not coming back.”

You turn around, walking toward the door. Yoongi stays quiet through it all. He thinks this is for the best. You are right, he’s been neglecting you. It’s not fair for either of you. He hates seeing you go, he loves you with all he has, but this is his one chance. The only opportunity to make everything right.

You beg for him in your head to call out your name. All you want is for Yoongi to stop you and make you stay. You could go home together and forget all of this happened. It’s Yoongi’s choice, and he chose to see you close the door behind you.

To think tomorrow was your first anniversary.

END OF PART 1

PART 2 COMING SOON

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[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Tethered to You" Chapter 2

Masterlist HERE.

"There's somethin' about you I'm likin'

Bit too much, is a bit frightenin'

Got a bit of bite to you like python

Got a bit of fight to you like Tyson

All my things sound like they sin

Never planned to be in like I'm in

How you could put this cherry on this cake and make it icin'?"

Normani – "All Yours"

Osha couldn't shake the coiled tension in her dumbstruck body. It wound its serpentine hold around her limbs and torso making it impossible to think the impossible for hours.

Mae was alive.

Her twin sister was alive and responsible for assassinating two Jedi masters in cold blood.

The pungent afternoon air on Olega cooled her heated face. She kept pace with the Jedi who stalked through the dusty streets past mercantile shops and a few boisterous cantinas far from the Jedi Temple. A Jedi Master she hadn't seen in nearly two decades was having his lifeless body prepared for cremation as they searched for clues about Mae.

Her sister had taken the yellow leaves from the bunta tree —a tree from their long lost home planet —and created a poisonous elixir to aid her killing spree. The shock of it all pressed down on Osha's shoulders. An ache of shame nestled at her nape too.

Sixteen years.

Sixteen years since she rested eyes on her other half. The anger and cold bitterness that numbed her so long ago because of what Mae had done to their family and coven gripped her movement making her muscles tight. She wanted to see her sister desperately to make sure it was all real. But she wanted to throttle her too. Beat the bones out of her selfish body. Hell, she was still in a tizzy over reconnecting with Master Sol, her father-figure and savior, the man who kept his promise to protect her after the fire burned down her home-world fortress. She couldn't ponder the ebb and flow of clashing emotions for too long though. They were on a mission to find the nearest apothecary that sold bunta leaves. It had a short shelf-life for potency and Yord's Padawan narrowed it down to a shop located on a busy market square with heavy foot traffic. It was the most logical spot to begin their search.

Yord's young Padawan had done reconnaissance for them earlier. The man posted up inside the shop was not the regular known shopkeeper, and the Padawan ascertained he was Mae's partner-in-crime. The plan was for Osha to enter the shop and pretend to be Mae, get a confession from the suspect so that Sol could record it, and then suss out Mae's location. All without causing harm to innocent civilians wandering the area in case the stranger turned violent. She ran scenarios in her head of how she'd react once they captured her sister. None bode well for her twin.

Master Sol slowed his stride toward the apothecary and turned to her. Those kind eyes still showered her with quiet affection. He kept a reserved manner probably to keep her from freaking out at the circumstances.

"Are you ready, Osha?" Sol asked.

His calm stoic nature gave her courage to face the task at hand.

"I'm ready."

The Jedi watched her stroll into the crowd away from them. She blended in well looking like a salvage worker who just clocked out and sought a place to drink and hustle a new gig. Her neck swiveled to observe if anyone odd followed or watched her too closely.

She stopped in front of a garment-vendor's open-air shop and lifted her repair droid Pip from the snug holster on her hip, and stuck him on the front pocket of her meknek uniform.

"I hope you guys can hear me," she said into the top of Pip's head.

She purchased a long black shawl from the two-horned gray-skinned garment vendor and carefully draped it around her body and head. It covered Pip completely and she tossed a long lose end over her left shoulder. Inhaling a deep breath, she crossed a wide-open street and headed directly for the apothecary.

Her mouth became dry and she tried accumulating enough saliva to keep her tongue loose and voice from cracking. The apothecary had a wide clear window and she took a quick glimpse inside. She couldn't see anyone at first until she noticed a shadowy figure moving in the back. Standing taller, she slowed her pace and took another galvanizing breath. Osha kept her face neutral and entered the shop.

A strong odor of boiling peppery herbs struck her nostrils first before other scents caught her attention. The shop looked orderly if not a bit dust-laden from customers tracking in the powdery red dirt from the street. There was no sign of Mae anywhere, and the shop was devoid of customers. Scanning the layout again, she clocked the suspect carefully.

The man in the rear of the shop wore dark goggles and held something in his hand. A piece of fruit. Osha cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Hello," she said.

The stranger looked up.

Under the ill-fitting charcoal-gray tunic, trousers, and goggles, Osha couldn't discern what she was dealing with or what type of relationship her sister had with the man. Playing it cool seemed to be the right move in that situation and she waited for him to acknowledge her.

"Oh…hello."

"Hi."

Osha grimaced internally. She sounded unsure of herself and struggled not to fidget. Keeping her composure, she watched him take off the goggles and walk toward her. As he drew near, she noticed the intensity of his jet black eyes scrutinizing her. She flicked her gaze all around his face, preferring not to look directly at him. Her nerves ratcheted up and her feet started rocking back and forth. She stared at him to keep her focus but dammit! He kept moving around, slithering closer to her. Nothing bulky showed through his tunic and she was relieved that he carried no weapon on him. He appeared a good eight to nine inches taller than her from the quick guestimation she made sizing him up from the step-down floor section he stood in. One step up and he would be directly in front of her. She needed to keep a sizable distance between them in case he tried a sucker move with a hidden blade. He just wouldn't stop that slow lazy amble toward her and it brought a shiver to the back of her neck. She couldn't break eye contact with him again without looking suspicious.

Those sultry eyes burned into her retinas and caused her breathing to slow down. Had he turned her into prey that quickly?

"Hi? Hi…you alright? You're back so early," he said.

Think. Quick. Say anything. Keep him talking.

"I wanted to see you."

Ugh! No…that sounded weird. It wasn't a gruff bossy tone that she imagined Mae would use like when they were children. His eyebrows rose up in confusion.

"See me? Oh…Mae…uh…are you okay? Did the poison work?"

There! They had him. He admitted to using poison with her. Where was her sister?

"You're acting so strange…"

He tilted his head to the side and those hypnotic eyes narrowed. A fluttering in her stomach signaled for her to stay focused on gleaning any information he gave up now. The steam from the bubbling pots throughout the shop gave the warm undertones in his tawny skin a moist sheen. His hair was tousled in messy black waves that were so glossy that they looked wet. It was obscene to be a vicious murderer and look that attractive.

"Wait…you killed Torbin without the poison. He will be sooo pleased…"

Why couldn't he be still? His body moved like the dance of a slow waltz, gliding forward on the balls of his feet, ready to spring on her if she didn't stay alert. She kept a hand on the stun blaster under the shawl. Sol allowed her to carry it for her protection. In the blink of an eye his head lifted to scrutinize her attire barely a foot away. He glanced at her lips and back to her face and she would swear on a holy book of Brendok that he wasn't the same man as before.

A trickster.

The stranger had become a changeling right before her besotted eyes. His gaze mimicked quicksand and she spiraled down into the pit of its murky, dreamy depths. A wolfish smile curled his delectable lips and she wanted to pivot and flee. His hold on her turned her body sluggish and unfocused like drinking Nightshade wine for the first time on Coruscant when she left the Jedi order. She lost hold of herself. Her breath...her limbs...and the deliberateness of it was uncanny.

Take control! Quickly!

"No…I used it. I just wanted to thank you."

She still sounded like a poor representation of her sister. Osha chose to gaze at the puffiness of his lips to keep from drowning in the covetous pools of his eyes. She would surely fold like bed linen soon. Focusfocusfocus.

She gripped the stun blaster tighter.

His eyes dragged down her entire body like she was naked and waiting for him to ravish her right there on that dirty apothecary floor. She tingled from the top of her head and down between her thighs not knowing if she needed her fight or flight instincts to take over…or that other primal thing she hadn't done in so long and craved. Fucking.

He openly eye-fucked her, watching her mouth speak words as if he never saw anyone do that before. Every inch of her face was scrutinized by him, like he was storing it to memory. She bounced in place on her heels awkwardly not knowing what else to say.

His rapacious gaze settled on her parted lips before he stepped up to her, crowding the space between them until he towered over her, his warm breath touching her skin. He smelled like the peppery floral scents swirling around the shop. His side-swept hair tempted her to touch it, wondering how the texture would feel rubbed between her fingers or falling down on her face lightly brushing against her cheeks.

He knew a secret about her. Those dark eyes twinkled with the knowing.

Busted.

"You look…exactly like…her…"

His breathiness on the last word made her eyes well up with tears. It was too intimate, too suggestive of something deeper than her twin sister. His words said one thing to her, but his eyes were speaking another language. He knew her…knew about her…no…this was something else…

Something tiny and insistent gnawed at her core where the remnants of the force still rested within her. Mother Aniseya, Mama, had taught her long ago about the Thread of Destiny. One could pluck at it and use it at will over time. The Jedi described the force in similar terms although in a more conservative and dogmatic fashion. Mama said she and Mae were part of the Thread…one made into two, and they were always supposed to be together.

This stranger plucked at her internal Thread and it sparked a desire that was beyond carnal. Soft feathery threads clasped at the electrical impulses in her brain. Cloyingly seductive. Shadowy. Dark.

Passion. Lust. Rage.

His Thread intertwined with hers and braided their spirits together like Mama's silky midnight black fingers on her locs after wash days with Mae. Oh, how she missed Mama and Mother Koril.

Spice creams.

The emerald green forests of Brendok.

The giant bunta tree with its dazzling yellow leaves…

Yellow leaves…bunta—

Osha blinked, snapping herself from his mental hold. She whisked the stun blaster out and aimed it between his sinister eyes.

She blinked again.

The stranger threw his hands up all wide-eyed and shrank back from her like a frightened coward trying to cover his tracks. Yord stormed in brandishing a lightsaber with Sol on his heels. Osha stayed back by the entrance, confused as to what happened.

Cowering and meek, the stranger gave up Mae like a double-crossing Hutt in the outer rim territory. He shared no real information about who taught her sister how to fight like a Jedi and the only useful tidbit was that she would return for something later. The Jedi stomped past Osha at the entrance. She paused to take a final look at the stranger.

The meekness had vanished.

With his back straight and eyes blazing into her, the stranger stirred something primal and transcendent in Osha.

He was forbidden fruit she was not supposed to taste.

But she wanted to.

Chapter 3 HERE.

A.N.:

I'm going to shoot for dropping updates every Friday. Right now I'm going to power through to as many chapters I can churn out quickly while the irons are hot, but once I start leveling out, it'll be every Friday night.

My Black Panther readers know this already but FYI, I don't edit or make corrections as I write. I type it out and post it as soon as I'm done. That keeps the writing fresh and fun for me. Any typos, spelling/grammar errors etc. are squarely the fault of Qimir. Take it up with him and let me cook!

I'm not going to do a taglist for now. Just check every Friday for new drops. If there's enough interest on here, I'll think about doing a taglist later.

[hereforreadandwrite]

Chapter Two

Masterlist

"See you tomorrow Buckets," you say as you leave the cabin.

You vaguely heard the Buckets wishing you a good day. You crossed the busy streets despite the biting cold of January. You were enjoying this time away from the Bucket family. You vaguely heard police car sirens speeding by as you entered Bill's shop. The place was still crowded with people hoping to find one of the five golden tickets. You got to work quickly, selling all the tablets in record time. Bill took advantage of a moment of calm to turn on the TV and switch to the talking news.

"The first golden ticket was found in Düsseldorf, Germany by a young boy named Augustus Gloop," the reporter announced.

The shop fell silent at this announcement. You stared intently at the screen where an image of a chubby boy appeared with dried chocolate on his face. You winced in disgust when you saw that. Why didn't his parents take the time to clean him up? You leaned on the counter listening to the waiter explain how he had found the ticket. He had bitten into the chocolate bar without looking, he was perplexed when he smelled the unusual taste of chocolate. He had found the golden ticket by biting into it. A reporter asked Augustus how he celebrated. The boy replied that he ate more chocolate bars. No sooner had he finished his sentence than he took out a new bar which he quickly unwrapped to bite into a piece that was too big for him to eat with his mouth closed. The boy's mother commented that she knew her son was going to find a ticket with all the tablets she bought for him. The chubby woman grabbed her son's wrist to show the cameras the ticket, all while posing with him.

"He's disgusting," you say, glaring at Bill.

"I'm not telling you, kiddo," the man replied, turning off the TV.

People had become even more determined to find a golden ticket. Some had tried to get into the back room. Luckily for you, Bill had a gun license and the customers quickly calmed down when they saw him pull out a shotgun. The day passed quickly and it was almost time for you to close the shop. With the golden ticket frenzy, Bill had decided to keep the shop open overnight, to avoid being robbed. You sat in the back room, turning on the little TV to watch the paper. In case anyone found another golden ticket. Now that the first ticket was found, it was going to be madness.

(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)

A sigh escaped your lips, you were exhausted by his long days of endless work. You barely extended a greeting to your family. You preferred to fall on your aunt and uncle's bed instead. The Bucket family members looked at you with concern and pity, which you preferred not to see. Charlie was the first to come over to help you take off your shoes and coat.

"Was it overnight?" Charlie asked as he went to hang your jacket with the others.

"Yeah...long and boring...," you said with a sigh. "His assholes are going absolutely nuts."

"A filthy young boy found a ticket," said Grandma Josephine.

"I know," you say, straightening up to sit on the edge of the bed. "Bill put the newspaper in then and it was a frenzy afterwards. Some were asking for a refund after seeing that their tablet had no tickets in it."

Another sigh escaped your lips as you ruffled your tangled hair. Charlie turned on the small TV to watch the paper. No sooner had he put on the chain than the reporter announced that the second golden ticket had just been found in Buckinghamshire. The sizzling image showed a middle-class family trying to look perfect. The little girl holding the golden ticket had an angelic smile proudly showing her ticket, her mother had her hand resting on her shoulder, showing her ring which must have cost a fortune and the father began to explain how he had found the object to be coveted by his darling granddaughter: Veruca Salt. Clearly, this man had exploited his poor workers to fulfill the desires of his darling little Veruca.

"This guy is worse than the fat guy," you say, laying back.

"I don't think that was really fair" commented Charlie sitting on his grandparents' bed. "She didn't find the ticket herself."

"That's why I hate the rich. They think everything is theirs. This kid is so spoiled that she won't do anything later," you say, glaring at your cousin. "Remember that, Charlie. No good ever comes from spoiling a child like that."

No sooner had you finished your sentence than the door opened on the Bucket parents. Charlie hurriedly turned off the television as your aunt and uncle stood in front of the grandparents' bed with huge smiles on their lips. You saw your cousin's gift roughly wrapped in newspaper. Like every year, the poor boy was only entitled to one Wonka bar.

"Charlie. Mum and I thought...maybe you wanna open your birthday present tonight," Mr. Bucket said.

"Here you are," said Mrs. Bucket, handing the famous gift to her son.

You couldn't help but envy your cousin. Even if you loved him, you hadn't had the chance to know about the birthday presents. Before he was born, you understood that your uncle and aunt kept every penny for food and other useful things. But when Charlie was old enough to receive gifts, you couldn't help but wonder why he was entitled to them and you weren't. After that hit you, you couldn't compete with Charlie. After all, he was the real child of this family. You were a parasite who paid to stay a parasite. From afar, you watched the family gather near the hero of the day who opened his gift: a Wonka Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight chocolate bar. Everyone waited impatiently for the boy to open his tablet.

"Maybe I should wait till morning," Charlie said nervously.

"Like hell," replied Grandpa George.

"Pop," growled Mr. Bucket.

"All together, we're 381 years old. We don't wait," said Grandpa Joe kindly.

Charlie plucked up his courage and started unwrapping the chocolate. All eyes were on the chocolate. Everyone was hoping, not you. What were the odds Charlie got a ticket? One in a million? Maybe more. Grandpa Joe seemed to be the most impatient of them all. Charlie removed the wrapping and unsurprisingly there was no golden ticket inside.

"Well," you say moving closer to the grandparents bed "That's that."

"We'll share it."

"Oh no, Charlie," Grandpa Joe said. "Not your birthday present."

"It's my candy bar, and I'll do what I want with it."

Charlie began cutting up chocolate chunks, handing them out to his grandparents and parents. Noticing that there was only one carrer left, you tell Charlie to eat it and that you were too tired to eat chocolate. You said good night to the Bucket family before going up to your room and Charlie's to get some sleep. Bill had given you a well-deserved weekend after this days of more than exhausting work.

(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)

"The third ticket was found by Miss Violet Beauregarde."

It's making the headlines. You threw the newspaper on the table to finish drying your soaked hair, listening with one ear to Violet's interview. Hearing the tone of that voice, that kid must have been obnoxious. You sat between Grandpa George and Grandma Josephine, facing the fireplace so your hair would dry faster when you heard the reporter announce that the fourth golden ticket had just been found by a boy named Mike Teavee. Violet's interview was cut to show the Teavee family. The boy's parents stood awkwardly in front of the reporters as Mike royally ignored them, continuing to play his loud video game. The boy explained how he found the ticket easily by following directions that you couldn't understand and that at the end of that, he only had to buy one tablet. When a journalist asked him what it tasted like, Mike replied that he hated chocolate. This simple sentence enraged Grandpa George who began to insult the boy of all names. Luckily, Mr. Bucket had quickly placed his hands over his son's ears, letting his father spit out his venom. Grandpa George was absolutely right. It was a waste to let such a kid visit a chocolate factory if he hated chocolate. It didn't make any sense. You threw your towel over your shoulder, leaving your seat to turn off the small TV. Mr. Bucket took his hands away from his son's ears to go back to sit and continue his book and Mrs. Bucket returned to the kitchen to continue the soup.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Charlie?"

"Why aren't you at work?"

The whole house froze at Charlie's question. You watched your uncle out of the corner of your eye as you tightened your grip on the television.

"Oh! Well, the toothpaste factory thought they'd give me a bit of time off," Mr. Bucket said uncomfortably.

"Like summer vacation?"

"Sure. Something like that."

They hadn't explained anything to Charlie? You took a deep breath as you put the TV away before going to your room. Now that you were the only person bringing in money, everyone was counting on you. You still remember how embarrassed they looked when you told them that Bill made you take a whole weekend off to rest after a whole week of night shifts. But now that you were well rested, you could go back to work.

(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)

"Only one more ticket, kiddo. Only one!" Bill said as he finished cleaning a section of his little shop. "It would be great if it was in my shop!"

"Don't get your hopes up, Bill. What do you have? One in a billion chance?"

"But I still have a chance."

You smiled, shaking your head slightly. The frenzy of golden tickets was calming down. Now that there was only one tablet left, people were losing hope of finding it. Night had just fallen, you were putting new tablets on the display when you heard the chime sound. You turned to the late-night customer who was strange. This person was two heads taller than you, wore a long trench coat and a hat that didn't show his face.

"Good evening," you greeted uncertainly. "I can help you?"

The person said nothing. He just reached for a Wonka chocolate bar and put it on the counter. You went behind the counter giving the price to the person who handed you a twenty dollar bill. You opened the cash register to put the note in and give change to the strange man. But to your surprise, it had disappeared leaving the bar on the counter. You went out into the street, looking for the man. There was no one on the street.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" Bill asked, watching you go back behind the counter.

"Yeah, just...a weird guy who bought a chocolate and left it with all his change," you say, putting the change back in the box.

"Oh, (Y/N)! Do you have a secret admirer?"

"No way."

"Keep the helm if he hasn't touched it."

You stuck out your thumb to say you understood. You went to put the bar in your locker, deciding to save it for later. The passing night had been calm.

A new day was beginning for you. You were saying hello to the Bucket family on your way to Bill's shop. You passed a clothing store. The window has been eyeing you for a while. One of the models wore a cream-coloured wool sweater, a long pale pink skirt decorated with a brown braided belt and flat-heeled lace-up boots. You dreamed of buying your clothes. You dreamed of having beautiful clothes. But it was impossible.

"Did you see that some kid in Russia found the last golden ticket?"

"Yes, it was in the paper this morning."

A sigh escaped your lips. The last golden ticket had been found. You were walking away from the store to get to work. Luckily, the day was calm. A customer was quietly reading the newspaper and two others strolled through the shelves. The chimes were ringing, the fourth customer was none other than your cousin Charlie.

"Hey you," you waved, leaning against the counter.

"Hi (Y/N). Can you give me a Wonka Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight bar, please?" he asked, handing you a ten dollar bill.

You took a Wonka tablet which you gave to Charlie before taking the ticket. You excused yourself from Bill to reach the cash register. You put away the note and prepared the change which you returned to Charlie.

"Russian ticket a fake. The nerve of some people," commented the customer who was reading her newspaper.

"It's not even surprising," you say, leaning against the counter.

"Forging a ticket. Come on," Bill commented back. Hold on. If the Russian ticket is a fake. That means there's still a chance. You watched Charlie unbox his tablet. But bad luck for him, there was no golden ticket. You were ruffling your cousin's hair.

"Aren't you disappointed?" Charlie asked looking at you.

"No," you say straightening up. "Because I know there's very little chance I'll find a ticket. At least you have the chocolate."

Charlie nodded slightly as he leaned against the counter to eat his chocolate bar. When you saw it, you remembered that yours was waiting for you in your locker. You went to have the Wonka chocolate before going back to your cousin. You were unpacking the candy in front of everyone. By removing the aluminum, you saw a golden glow emanating from your candy. You froze when you saw the gold leaf glow under the store's neon lights. It must have been impossible. Seeing your surprised look, Charlie asked you if you were okay. With a trembling hand, you slowly removed the golden paper on which it was written roughly: Golden Ticket.

"That's...," Charlie began in surprise.

"That's a golden ticket," Bill said when a huge smile formed on his lips. "You found the last Wonka Golden Ticket! In my shop!"

You giggled as you gaped at Charlie. You must have been dreaming. You hadn't slept properly the last few days. You pinched your forearm, but the pain confirmed that you were beautiful and wide awake. Charlie was rushing over to you when the man browsing the shelves rushed to the counter, offering to sell him your ticket for fifty bucks and a new bike. The second woman in the store was screaming that he was completely crazy and that she was giving five hundred dollars for the ticket. She was smiling in a way that wanted to be reassuring, but it made her feel scary. She looked like a witch.

"Enough! Leave her alone!" Bille growled, calming the customers who were devouring your ticket with their eyes. "Don't let anyone have it (Y/N)! Hurry back home!"

"Thank Bill!" You grabbed Charlie's hand and ran out of the store.

You and your cousin were running as fast as you could, under the curious gazes of passers-by. A huge smile stretched your lips. You couldn't believe you found the last golden ticket. You came running to the little cabin, Charlie shouted to his parents, working in the garden, that you had found him. You stormed into the house, waking up your grandparents. Mr. and Mrs. Bucket returned in their turn, arms full. You handed the ticket to Grandpa Joe who strained his eyes to see the ticket. His eyes widened when he realized what you had just given him. "

Yippee!" yelled Grandpa Joe before jumping out of bed to start a dance of joy.

The whole house watched Grandpa Joe dance as he handed the ticket to his son-in-law, who dropped what was in his arms, asking him to read aloud what was written on it. Your uncle took the ticket to read the instructions aloud.

Greetings to you,

The lucky finder of the Golden Ticket, from Mr Willy Wonka. I shake you warmly by the hand. For now, I do invite you to come to my factory and be my guest for one whole day. I, Willy Wonka, will conduct you around the factory myself showing you everuthing there is to see. Afterwards, when it is time to leave, you will be escorted home by a possession of large trucks, each one filled with all the chocolate you could ever eat. And remember: One of you lucky five children will receive an extra prize beyond your wildest imagination. Now, here are your instructions: the first of February, you must come to the factory gates at 10 am sharp. You're allowed to ring one family member to look after you. Till then, Willy Wonka.

"First of February? That's tomorrow!" you cried, looking at Charlie.

"Then there's not a moment to lose, Charlie!" exclaimed Grandpa Joe, looking down at his grandson. "Wash you face, comb your hair, scrub your hands, brush your teeth, blow you nose and..."

"And get that mud off your pants," joked Grandpa George.

Your excitement melted like snow in the sun seeing that the attention of the Bucket family was focused on your cousin. Wait. They all thought it was Charlie who found the last ticket. He had however said that it was you who had found him. Not him. A nervous laugh escaped your lips, which caught Charlie's attention. The boy nervously played with his fingers as he heard his parents discussing who was going to accompany him to the chocolate factory, to which Grandpa Joe announced that he was the one who would accompany him. Your blood boiled when you heard that.

"Okay," you say, approaching your uncle and aunt to take the golden ticket back from them. "Okay stop there now."

"(Y/N)? Are you okay?" Grandma Josephine asked, looking puzzled at you.

"Am I okay?" you asked nervously, clutching the ticket in your fist. "I look fine?! Guys! I found that golden ticket! It's not Charlie's, it's mine!"

The joy in the cabin was fading. You bit your lip ruffling your hair. You wanted to cry. It was always the same. Everything had to go to Charlie, the biological and desired child. You saw Grandpa Joe sit back on the bed with a bruised expression, as if you had told him that you had just killed someone. Mrs. Bucket was nervously fiddling with her fingers, mustering up her courage to talk to you.

"(Y/N), honey."

You were mentally pleading that she wouldn't ask you that.

"It would make...a wonderful gift for Charlie and Grandpa Joe..."

"Mom!" Charlie exclaimed.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips. You shook your head as you backed out the front door. Charlie was asking you to stay, but you preferred to leave for now. Otherwise, you were going to say things you were going to regret. You left the cabin, running through the deserted streets of the city. You had to get as far away as possible from that cabin, from the Bucket family. You stopped in front of the gates of the Chocolate Factory. Your breath was erratic, tears blurred your vision and streamed down your cheeks. It was always the same, you had to sacrifice yourself for Charlie's sake. Your well-being came second. You hid the golden ticket in your coat pocket, you leaned your back against the wall, letting you slide down to the floor. You didn't care if the melted snow soaked your clothes, you didn't care if you were out late at one o'clock. You didn't care about anything now. You wrapped your arms around your legs, the pantyhose against your chest. You rested your forehead against your legs, crying silently. Your uncle, your aunt and your grandparents knew that you dreamed of visiting the chocolate factory and meeting Willy Wonka. All the stories Grandpa Joe told you made you want to work in a chocolate factory, but you didn't have a degree and because of your shabby old clothes, no one wanted to take you on as an apprentice. Bill was the only person who was kind enough to hire you. You heard the snow crunch under someone's feet. You ignored the person, thinking he or she was going to move on.

"Such a pretty young woman should not be left alone in the street at such a late hour."

You look up to see the man who saved you from an argument with a disgruntled customer. You quickly wiped away your tears as you stood up and rubbed the back of your pants, brushing the snow away.

"I… I needed some fresh air," you say, your throat tight as you fake a smile.

The man approached a neutral air and observed you attentively, which made you uncomfortable. The man held out his leather-gloved hand to your face, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape your eye. You looked at the man surprised by feeling the leather caress your cheek.

"You cry."

"It's nothing," you said quickly, taking a step back and giggling. "The last few days we've been crazy about the golden tickets."

Saying that, you took the crumpled golden ticket out of your pocket. Seeing that, a delighted smile stretched her lips.

"You got the last golden ticket! Congratulations, Barley sugar!"

"Yeah," you say looking at the ticket with some contempt.

"You don't seem very pleased."

"That's not it," you say, sighing loudly and leaning against the wall. "I was excited when I found the ticket, but..."

"But?" the man asked, leaning against his cane.

"My family thought it was my cousin who found it when I gave it to them. They were talking about how it was going to be my cousin and my grandpa Joe going to visit the chocolate factory. When I told them said I was the one who found him, I felt like I had told them that I had killed someone. All their joy had melted like snow in the sun and my aunt had the nerve to asking me to let my grandpa and my cousin visit the chocolate factory."

"She dared to do such a thing?"

"Yes, and it's not the first time. It's always been the same. My cousin's happiness comes before mine."

You felt your throat constrict and the tears that threatened to flow again. You bit your lip as you leaned against the huge wall surrounding the chocolate factory. You didn't have to crack. You had to change the subject. Your gaze rested on a shoebox and a bag from the store that had been eyeing you for a while.

"I didn't know the clothing stores stayed open this late," you say, forcing yourself to smile.

"They're not," he said, holding the shoebox and bag out to you. "Congratulations again on finding the last golden ticket, Barley sugar."

You took the bag and the box looking at the puzzled man. Was it a gift? Why had he done that? You opened the shoebox where the flat-heeled lace-up boots you had seen were. The most surprising thing was that they were your size. You closed the box to check the bag that contained the clothes you dreamed of buying. You looked at the surprised strange man while this one smiled.

"Wear them tomorrow, Barley sugar," he says before turning his back on you to disappear into the night. "Good night."

"Go-good night," you gape. In shock, you returned to the Bucket family cabin. You ignored your family who asked you about the packages you had. You went up to your room, joining Charlie who was sitting on the bed. The boy looked at you embarrassed.

"(Y/N)...I'm sorry about earlier," Charlie apologized in a low voice and playing nervously with his fingers.

"You had nothing to do with it," you say in the same tone. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. Maybe I overdid it."

"You're the one who found the golden ticket. I would have been mad too if someone had done that to me," he said when his attention fell on your packages. "What is it?"

"A guy I just met gave me a present," you say, showing your cousin the clothes and boots. "Look. I'll wear this tomorrow to visit the chocolate factory. You may also have some nice clothes for tomorrow."

"You mean that..."

"You seriously thought I was going to visit the chocolate factory without you?"

Charlie stood up suddenly, jumping for joy on the bed before jumping into your arms. You both laugh until Mr. Bucket comes up to the bedroom to see what's going on and to tell you to mute your grandparents. Charlie was apologizing to his dad as you put your clothes under the bed. You slipped under the covers, next to Charlie who was smiling smugly.

"Sleep, Charlie. We have to be in good shape for tomorrow."

Charlie chuckled as he pulled the blanket over his shoulder to fall asleep. You smiled seeing that Charlie was so happy. At least the day was ending on a positive note.

[forevery0urs]

imagine wedding cake test with eren!!

“Babe why couldnt you just pick your favorite flavor?” Eren asks as he open the door for you.

“Cause WE need to choose a flavor we’re both going to agree on,Mister.” You poke his chest,walking inside the cake shop. You lift your sunglasses up into your hair,letting your eyes adjust to the lighting.

You walk up to the counter and talk with the worker while Eren looks around.

He looks at the little cake figures. He looks at each and every one of them,not noticing that you’re talking to him.

“Eren” You snap really loud in his face. He stops staring at them,finally looking at you. “oh shit sorry”

You extend out your hand,letting Eren grab it. You follow the worker to the back of the cake store and walk into this fancy restaurant place.

“Are we tasting cake or eating at an expensive restaurant?” Eren whisper in your ear. “It’s just the way they make their clients taste the cake” You whisper back.

You sit down at this round table and Eren sits next to you. “Are you nervous?” He looks at you. “For what,mama?” You just shake your head

“Doing wedding stuff doesn’t make you nervous?” He just sits and thinks for a little. “Yeah but i’ll be even more nervous on the actual day” You smile.

“You’re not gonna run out on me,are you?” You grab him by his jaw. “Of course not,baby.” He chuckles. You pull him in and kiss him.

He smiles,placing one hand on the chair and another on your waist. You place a few more kisses before letting go of his jaw and pulling away.

He blushes like crazy.He places his head between your shoulder and neck,gently placing light kisses on the skin.

“Thank you so much” He hears you speak, lifting up his head and seeing all the different cakes on the table labeled with their flavors.

“Which one do you want to try first?” You ask him,placing your bag in between you and Eren’s chair.

“Ummm we can do this one.” He says as he grabs the red velvet cake. He grabs a spoonful and feeds you it.

He notices how your face lights up by the taste but also how you scrunch your face a bit because it’s too sweet.

“The cake part was amazing pero the frosting was too sweet” He was right. He loves you so much that he can tell what you like and what you don’t like.

He sees you write down things on a little paper they gave you and he takes a bite out of the cake.

“What do you think,mi vida?” You ask him as you place the pen down. “I think that it taste good but i wouldn’t want it as our cake.” He says as he pushes the cake to the side.

“Okay next flavor. Umm i’ll do this one” You grab the Chocolate one. He lets you try it first.

“It’s super sweet” You scrunch up your face a bit,feeding Eren a piece. “Yeah.I’ll be too hyper.”

You smile. “Imagine how hyper the kids would be”

He looks at you “Mama, there’s gonna be no kids at the wedding cause everyone is gonna be stupid drunk” He says as he grabs the next flavor

“Oh shit, you’re right. Maybe we should get a alcohol infused cake!” You say excitedly,jumping up and down a little.

He laughs, kissing your cheek.

___________

“So definitely not pumpkin spice.” He gags a little, putting the last flavor aside. You laugh.

“So it’s in between, vanilla and red velvet.” You write down whatever you’re writing down and Eren tries the red velvet again.

“Hey baby what if we just ask for a less sweeter frosting for red velvet?” Eren suggest.

“We could do that cause i think vanilla is too boring” You look up at him. “So red velvet?” He asks

“yeah because for me it seems like a good flavor for a wedding.” You say as you push your hair behind your ear before writing down red velvet as your choice.

He stares and admires your beauty,wondering how he got the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Okay let’s go.” You grab your purse and get up,grabbing the paper too.

He gets up and follows you. He waits for you to give the paper for the worker.

“So we just have to ask how specifically you want your cake to look like…” He zones off from whatever the worker was telling you and stares at you.

“Do you want to do 3 tier or 4?” You ask him, turning around. “We can do whatever you think is enough for everyone”

“Yeah we’ll do 4 tier because it’s a of people” You tell the worker. She then asks you how you want the cake to look like and you show her the inspiration pic.

“Okay then your total will come out to… $2,521. You can leave a deposit of $500.” The worker tells you.

You look back at Eren because it’s a lot of money but he’s already pulling out his wallet to pay in full.

“I’ll just pay in full since i’m carrying the cash around anyways.” He hands the money to the worker.

“Eren es mucho dinero” You whisper to him. “Baby i want us to have our dream wedding,price doesn’t matter to me.” He whispers back, hugging you from behind.

The worker gives you the change and tells you to have a good day.

Eren let’s go and you open the door,putting on your sun glasses.

“Hey baby.what if instead of us being the wedding topper, it can just be you since most of the attention is gonna be on you” He wraps his around around you,kissing the top of your head.

“Ahaha very funny,Eren” “I’m not joking”

[skyfallscotland]

For the 'Basgiath (Remi's Version)' masterpost click here 🖤

Everything else ⤸

Fics:

Macchiato (Xaden/Violet, AU, 30k words)

keep quiet (nothing comes as easy as you) (Xaden/Violet, AU, 17k words)

The State of Rider-Flier Relations (Mira/Drake, 12.5k words)

hold me tight, or don't (Sloane/Dain, 6k words)

In Too Deep (Xaden/Violet, AU, 92k words)

ink & mistletoe (Xaden/Violet, AU, 12k words, WIP)

Ficlets:

Untitled Cam/Liam (AU, 1.5k words)

In-depth summaries below the cut ⤸

Fics:

Macchiato

Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail ✧ AU ✧ 30k words, complete

“F—” Fuck you, is what I was going to say, but at the last minute I realise he’s still a customer and I need to remain professional…and also I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he irritates me. (A Xaden/Violet coffee shop AU)

keep quiet (nothing comes as easy as you)

Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail ✧ AU ✧ 17k words, complete...for now—potential for an interconnected one-shot or two

In a world where the Tyrrish haven’t rebelled, Xaden Riorson is an aristocrat and therefore must enrol in the infantry—which definitely explains how he ends up on his knees before Violet Sorrengail in the Hadden Woods, his face between her thighs. Totally.

The State of Rider-Flier Relations

Mira Sorrengail/Drake Cordella ✧ AU ✧ 12.5k words, complete — potential riorgail companion fic to come

“So you’re the one who gave me that scar.” I stare, uncomprehending. “What?” I manage to bite out. He lifts a hand, tapping his finger over the scar trailing from his ear to his collarbone, a match for the one I’d had clawed into me by a gryphon just like his. I bite down on my tongue as I think about the mirror of a burn long-since healed, that mars the skin of my torso. A scar that every man or woman I’ve ever taken to bed since has commented on. And he’s worried about a line on the side of his neck? My blood boils.

hold me tight, or don't

Sloane Mairi/Dain Aetos ✧ NSFW one-shot ✧ 6k words, complete

“Fuck, you’re exhausting.” She huffed and he tried not to take it personally. “You’re not exactly a walk in the park, Mairi.” She bared her teeth at him. “Put your mouth back on me,” she tugged on his hair harshly for emphasis, “or I’ll make you regret it.”

In Too Deep

Violet Sorrengail/Xaden Riorson ✧ AU ✧ 92k words, complete

When Violet Sorrengail is eighteen years old, her olympic dreams turn to dust and she swears to never attend another swim meet again. Six years later, she’s reinvented herself. As the best media manager Scribed has to offer, she’s well-traveled, well-paid and entirely content with life.   Enter Xaden Riorson—olympian, gold medallist, world record holder…devil incarnate. No one’s ever gotten under Violet’s skin quite like him. From the moment they met she’s hated him, so when Violet’s co-worker is forced to vacate her position with Team USA and she finds herself in Paris, she swears to stay as far away from him as possible.  Unfortunately, he never got the memo.

ink & mistletoe

Violet Sorrengail/Xaden Riorson ✧ AU ✧ 12k words, WIP

Violet is happy to helm story time for the early-learners group occasionally—it is her bookstore after all—but she has no interest in catering it for the holidays. None. Nada. And for the last time, there will be no tinsel in this building, Ridoc! Enter Xaden Riorson: handsome tattoo artist and single dad. He's just trying his best to make ends meet, get his daughter to that reading-session-thing she likes so much, and make sure she has the best Christmas now that she's old enough to remember it. Oh, and convince the gorgeous bookstore owner that the holidays aren't so bad after all if they celebrate them together. That too.

Ficlets:

Untitled Cam/Liam

AU ✧ 1.5k words, potential series.

“Are you asking to get me alone?” The Tyrr’s lips curve up in a smirk. “Would you like that?” The prince fires back. He would actually.

[spookidema]

A Were(wolf) of Your Situation

Genre: Slight Angst and Mostly Fluff

Pairing(s): Min Yoongi/Kim Seokjin/Kim Namjoon, Background OT7

Summary: Music, sleep, coffee, and a pack that he isn't a part of was the only thing that Min Yoongi cared about. Being the only human in his friend group was a downer sometimes especially when they were all in a relationship together, but Yoongi never let anyone know his true feelings about that situation trying and failing to put some kind of distance between himself and the pack. But when an accident leads Yoongi to get hurt, something things come out and they just might be what Yoongi needs to hear.

Tags: @multistanisms and @alwayschoosechocolate

"Fuck my life."

Yoongi would have thought after 27 years on this planet he would have an inkling to not fuck with the supernatural. The same supernatural that has been out and about publicly since the '60s. The same supernatural he works with every day as a music producer. Faries, weres, vampires, kitsunes, and many more outnumbered humans 2:1 meaning for every one human there are two supes. It was never an issue until right now.

Yoongi just so happened to piss off the wrong kind of werewolf yesterday morning before he had even gotten coffee in his system. All he did was accidently bumped into the guy as Yoongi was entering the coffee shop causing the guy to spill his drink all over himself. Yoongi had apologized to him, but the guy just growled that he was going to regret that pushing passed Yoongi. The werewolf ended up being a fellow worker at Yoongi's company, and as Yoongi left the company that night, they were chased Yoongi into the wooded area close to the company. As the moon hit its peak, the werewolf took its chance and attacked Yoongi as he was tiring biting him the shoulder. Yoongi screamed and the sound of wolf howls sounded. The wolf, that attacked Yoongi, dropped him, and turned tail and ran.

Somehow while still in extreme pain, Yoongi managed to stumble his way out of the woods feeling eyes on his back the whole way. After leaving the woods, he is vaguely aware of how he managed to get into his car, drive home, cleaned up, and into bed. And this is where our current story starts.

Yoongi stared at the circle of teeth marks that were hidden under the gauze on his shoulder in horror. Anyone in their right mind knows that if you get bitten by a were during a full moon, you become one. Yoongi had no idea what to do in this moment. He wanted to call into his job and tell them he couldn't come in because he is sick, but he normally doesn't do that. He sighed running his hands down his face.

Suddenly his phone started ringing.

"Yoongi-ah, open your door. I have coffee and breakfast," Kim Seokjin, his cafe owning friend, sang through the phone.

"Hyung, this is not the best time," Yoongi tried to argue wrapping his shoulder with fresh gauze.

"Pup, just open the door," Jin lightly ordered kicking Yoongi into gear.

Opening the door to reveal Jin and one of his partners Kim Namjoon, who also works with Yoongi.

"Hyung, this is not a good time," Yoongi sighed as Jin squeezed his way passed and into the kitchen."Nams, did he drag you here for a reason?"

"Come eat while Joon-ah checks out your shoulder," JIn said setting everything out on the counter.

"Nothing is wrong with my shoulder, Hyung," Yoongi said letting Namjoon in and closing the door.

"Hyung, we can smell the saliva in the wound on your shoulder," Namjoon spoke matter of fact. "Did you forget the pack are weres and run in the wood by the company?"

Yoongi grunted as he dropped himself into a chair and started nibbling on his food. "So, you saw the bastard bite me?"

"No, or he would be dead for attacking part of my pack," Jin growled. "We weren't aware of anything until we heard you scream."

Yoongi grunted again making his trademarked :| face holding his arm out for Namjoon to unwrap and check the bite for his own self. Namjoon's eyes set into a glare and breathed in deeply.

"The scent on this bite smells familiar," Namjoon growled softly. Yoongi shrugged and winced when he pulled at the wound. "How did any of this happen, Hyung?"

Yoongi reluctantly retold everything the day before as Namjoon cleaned the bite a bit better and rewrapped it. Jin and Namjoon gave each other a look as Namjoon finished.

"I think I know exactly who this was," Namjoon stated crossing his arms. "That new transfer teacher to the dance department. The one Jimin is always complaining about at game night. He apparently doesn't like any of us in the pack."

"But I'm not part of your pack," Yoongi grumbled. "I was just a regular human minding my business."

Jin's eyes soften at the wounded man in front of him. "Oh honey."

"I'm not," Yoongi affirmed crossing his arms carefully. "You guys have four others in your pack and polycule. I'm just the pet human - well used to be human, and outlier."

"How have I allowed you to feel like this?" Jin questioned as his eyes set on Yoongi's face." How have I allowed you to feel like you are not part of my pack? Yes, you were human, but you are one of the fundamental parts of it?"

"That's not true," Yoongi argued rolling his eyes. "I'm just the friend sitting on the sidelines only needed when someone wants something."

Jin and Namjoon growled warningly as Jin came around the kitchen counter and put his hand on the back of Yoongi's chair tipping it backwards. Yoongi let out a meep clawing at the edge of the counter to stabilize himself. Jin grabbed Yoongi's chin making him look Jin straight into his eyes.

"Min Yoongi, you have been part of my pack since the moment Namjoon dragged you to my cafe years ago when he first met you," Jin growled out." You are the second person who joined even if you didn't know it yet. You stole all of our hearts with gummy smiles, sarcasm, and quiet caregiving. Have we all not made it obvious that we care and love you, pup?"

"Hyung, you can't really believe we don't love you in more than a platonic way," Namjoon asked gently," not when you always have one of the pups or Hobi hanging off you 90% of the time?"

Yoongi tried to look anywhere but Jin, couldn't. "I didn't want to get my hopes up," Yoongi admitted softly," especially if my feeling were not reciprocated."

Jin's eyes soften as he caressed Yoongi's cheek with his thumb." How long have you felt like this?"

"Love you all or feeling like the outsider," Yoongi questioned.

"Both," Namjoon answered for Jin.

"Love you guys? About a month after meeting, you and Jin, and it got worse as Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook joined," Yoongi answered. " Outsider? Started over the last few months."

"And you never said anything," Jin simply asked.

"You never said anything either," Yoongi glared slightly at the oldest in the room.

"Cheeky pup," Jin chuckled." We will inspire to show you how much we care and love you in the future if you allow."

Yoongi stared at Jin for a moment searching his face for any lies before doing the same to Namjoon. As he moved his eyes back to Jin, he gave to tiniest of nods causing both Jin and Namjoon to smile widely.

"Please, can I kiss you," Jin begged." I've been waiting for years."

"Su-," Yoongi started before he was interrupted with a passionate kiss. All of Yoongi's problems seemed to melt with the kiss. Nothing matters except Jin's plush lips and the feeling of knowing the pack loved him as much as he loved them.

As they parted, Yoongi tilted his face toward Namjoon and nodded his head giving Namjoon the answer to his silent question. Namjoon captured Yoongi's lips in the second kiss of the morning.

"This wasn't what I was expecting for today," Yoongi mumbled as he and Namjoon parted, and Jin let his chair settle back on the floor.

"You gotta expect the unexpected in this pack, Yoon-ah," Jin giggled." Just wait until Hobi and the maknaes get their hands on you."

Yoongi groaned loudly. "I would rather streak naked in the woods."

"Oh, that's going to be next full moon," Jin stated simply." Your first shift, and first run. Thank the moon goddess that after your first shift, you can shift whenever after."

"I was joking, but pop off, I guess."

"Love you too, pup."

[burnthoneydrops]

Coffee and Donuts (Graham Dunne x Reader)

Synopsis: The early morning hours at a local café becomes the spot of a possible budding relationship

Requested: no

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none, and i tried to keep the reader gender neutral :)

A/N: My first DJATS post!! I had this thought at work and just had to write it down once I got home. Fair warning, it's not proof read but i hope you lot enjoy!

“Good morning Donna!” You smile as you swing the backroom doors open, greeting the older woman who sits at the desk, counting the money before opening. 

“Good morning darling! How are you this fine morning?” She asks, looking up through her glasses as her ponytail swishes back and forth slightly from turning around. 

“Oh you know, here…so,” you tease, grabbing your apron off its hook. 

“Well thank god for that cause we need you on register today,” she informs you.

“Sounds about right,” you laugh. 

“Well you can’t exactly blame us for putting our best money maker by the literal money maker,” Donna replies, closing up the money bag. 

“Ok, that was horrible,” you laugh harder. 

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “Would you be a dear and go mop the floors for me? Maybe clean off the counters if they look nasty?” 

“You got it boss!” You reply, tying your apron tighter in the back and grabbing the mop and bucket on your way out. 

Plunging the mop into the soapy water before dragging it across the floor, you proceed to switch on the radio as you walk past it, humming the melody it was emitting under your breath. Donna eventually makes her way to the front as you push the mop against the last dry corner of the shop, muttering something about how the “chef” in the kitchen must be taking his sweet time with today’s batches of donuts. As you grab the rag to dust off the counters, Jeff, the chef in question, pushes through the kitchen doors with a tray of freshly baked and decorated donuts. You do a big sweeping motion of your arm across the counter as he walks behind you, before grabbing the donut on the very edge of the tray, biting into it before he can object. 

“Hey!” Jeff stops in his tracks, looking at you like you’ve just murdered his cat. 

“Worker’s comp,” you mumble through the mouth-full, giving him a toothy grin where there are definitely pieces of frosting stuck in your teeth. 

“That’s not even what that means man,” Jeff sighs before opening the display case and sliding the remaining donuts in it, closing the sliding door with his other hand.  

“Someone’s gotta make sure we’re not poisoning the customers,” you reply. Jeff mutters a “whatever” and makes his way back to the kitchen, probably to grab another tray of today’s offerings. You turn to the espresso machine and look at the stack of mugs and to go cups in the cabinet above it. You preferred to call it an espresso machine, but it was really just an old coffee pot type machine with the grounds and coffee filters next to the utensil drawer. 

“Almost opening people!” Donna calls, “Get ready to greet the public in three, two, one!” she counts down as she twists her key in the front doors. You turn around to be greeted with pretty much what you were expecting, no one. No one in your middle of nowhere town was up this early except the three of you at the cafe. Taking this time to pour the coffee grounds into the slot at the top of the machine, you’re surprised when you hear the bell above the front doors chime. Donna, sitting at her favourite corner table filling out some order forms, turns to look at whoever just walked through, which turns out to be a group of three young men. 

“Good morning gentlemen, what can I do you for?” You ask, facing them from your spot behind the register. One was in a hoodie and sunglasses, and from what you could tell was hungover as all hell. The second one messed with the straps of his muscle tank and shook his black curls. The third one was dressed in an unbuttoned striped shirt over a white tank top and he hung his sunglasses on the dip of the front of his shirt as the three of them walked closer. You had to admit, they were all pretty attractive, but the third one just had a look about him, endearing you guessed is the word you would use. You hadn’t seen these guys come in before, so you figured they weren’t from around here. 

“Um, uh,” the third one laughs awkwardly looking between the display case, you, and the floor. 

His friend with the black hair snickers, “come on man. It’s not that hard”.

The one trying to order elbows his friend, coughing to clear his throat before asking for seven coffees, three glazed donuts, one with strawberry sprinkles, one chocolate and one old fashioned. You nod with a smile, writing everything down on a scrap piece of paper before you forget. “The coffee’s brewing now, so it shouldn’t be very long,” you tell them. 

You grab a flat box for the donuts, folding it up and grabbing the requested ones from the case, placing them in so hopefully they don’t squish together. As you fold down the lid of the box, you swear you heard one of the guys mutter, “what’s the harm man? It’s not like you’re gonna see them again,” but shake it off, insisting the music was warping your hearing.

“So, you boys aren’t from around here, are you?” Donna asks, turning in her chair to face them. 

“No, actually we’re um- we’re doing a small tour at the minute,” the one with the black curly hair speaks up first. 

“Yeah, we’re playing this small gig tonight in a bar near here,” the endearing one adds, shifting in his seat. 

“Oh, musicians! What a fun surprise having y’all turn up at our little joint,” Donna turns to you, winking not so subtly before turning back to the boys. You grab to go cups, lining them up so the seven are next to the machine and begin to pour the hot liquid. You hear one of them laugh and you don’t know why, but you don’t even have to turn around to know that it’s the one with the button up shirt. You smile down at the cups, a blush creeping its way onto your cheeks. Donna, the entertainer as always. 

“Here are those coffees for you and the box of donuts, all as requested,” you call from the counter, causing all three boys to stand up. “We’ve got carrier trays too if that makes it easier”. 

“That would be great actually,” the cute one smiles before grabbing the box of donuts, motioning to the others to take the coffees after you place them in four slot trays. 

“Do you guys want sugar packets? Maybe the little half and half pods?” You offer. 

“Teddy graham here sure would,” the boy with black curls teases, shoving his friend with his shoulder. 

“My name is Graham, that’s just a stupid nickname they have for me,” Graham (as you now can refer to him), adds rather quickly. 

“Ok,” you chuckle, grabbing a little bag and filling it with sugar packets and half and half pods. “That’s $7 for you”. Graham reaches into his pocket and grabs a $10 bill before sliding it over the counter to you. 

“Keep the change,” he smiles and you nod, already sad that the interaction is about to end. 

“Just so you know, the show isn’t sold out yet,” the curly haired one comments. It seems like an odd thing to throw out there, but you hum in a “piqued interest” type of response anyway. 

“Well, maybe I’ll just have to swing by after my shift,” you reply, plunking some buttons on the register to get it to open so you can put the money in. They say thank you to both you and Donna and wave goodbye with their free hands before making their way to the front doors. You watch them leave as Donna makes her way back up to you. 

“If you don’t go after that boy, I will”. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You scoff. 

“They clearly had eyes for you! Especially the awkward one. We don’t call you the money maker for nothing!” she waves her hands around as she talks. “And don’t act like you weren’t making eyes at him too”. 

“I was not-” you try, but she’s already giving you one of her famous looks. You couldn’t lie to this woman for shit. “Ok but they’re touring, they’re not gonna be here very long”. 

“Seems like a sad excuse to waste an opportunity. You’re young, come on, you’ve got too much life ahead of you to be second guessing shit like this!” 

“Ugh! Fine!” You grab the sheet you had written their order down on and scribble your home phone number on the back with your name and a smiley face. Speeding your way around the counter, you shove open the front doors, hoping they hadn’t gotten too far. You spot them a little ways down the sidewalk and run over to them.

“Wait! You guys forgot your receipt,” you comment as you catch up to them. 

“Oh, we didn’t need a-” 

“No seriously, good for the records and all that, you know?” You wave the paper a little, hoping Graham would take it. When he does reach for it, it takes all of you not to immediately turn around in embarrassment or take it out of his hand and crumple it, chucking it as far as you can in the opposite direction. Surprisingly, you don’t do any of those things. You start to walk away as he folds the paper, going to put it in his pocket, but not before he quickly notices the writing on the back. As if he finally understands why you’ve run after them, a small smile erupts on his face and he nods in understanding. 

“Yeah, good for the records,” he repeats. 

“Maybe I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” You ask as you leave, not really looking for a reply, but hoping to turn around before the embarrassment blush creeps further onto your cheeks. 

“You got it dude!” you hear the one with curly hair exclaim, clapping his friend aggressively on the back while balancing the tray of coffees in his other hand. “You got their number!” 

Maybe you were more grateful now that you guys opened so early. 

[dolly-5weets]

A Psychopath and a Cannibal what can go wrong?

TW: Smut, Mention of biting till blood, creampies, NSFW, choking, knife play,

It had been three years since I met him. Well, possibly longer than that. Grayson Micheals. I tried gutting him once yet he’s the only one who survived my attacks. Little did I know that triggered something in him. After my attack he stalked me for who knows how long, and even snuck into my college. Same classes. Everything. He even started messaging me, but back then I hated all men, even him. Especially him when I started dating him, but as time passed I was scared in a way, I could snap his neck, bash his face in, slit his throat open, hold him down, I could hurt him. I didn’t want to do that. I used to, but now I don’t. Grayson was gentle, kind, and sweet. Only I knew about his dark side, his taste for blood. He was a Cannibal and I was a Psychopath. Yet he was sweet to me. I couldn’t help but fall for this man.

It was February 17th, his birthday. He was turning 25. We had graduated a few months back. I went and made a cake. I hated baking but I guess he was worth it in some way. I used the knife to spread the thick frosting on its spongy layers. I also used a red tube and spelled his name saying happy birthday and decorated it. But after finishing it, I realized just how horrible it looked, so I put it in the fridge, before going to the nearby ice cream shop. I got a chocolate ice cream cake, and the workers decorated it to say his name. It looked pretty. I took it home and hid it in the freezer. I didn’t buy him a gift, I didn't need to, I was a gift enough, I could give him something that nobody else could, and that was a fun time. I cleaned the house and got some stuff ready for his gift, he was gonna be exhausted. So I was gonna make it up to him. As I fixed the bed and laid stuff out on it I heard the door click open.

“I’m home!” His voice rang out. Mentally I cursed myself, I didn’t realize the time. “Hold on!” I replied, slipping on a black skirt. I went and joined him out there, he was playing with our cats, Bella and Tortie. He smiled when he saw me, instantly getting up to grab me. I accepted his embrace, he layered kisses along my neck and bit-down. He wasn’t gentle either, I liked it when he wasn’t gentle. I inhaled sharply, the heat filling my face and racing down to my core. I couldn’t speak as his teeth penetrated through my skin, the red scarlet liquid trickled out onto his lips as he sucked on my wound. A modern day vampire is what I called him. I brought my hand up and caressed his dark curls, they were soft and silky. I watched as he hungrily licked and sucked at the wound, determined to get as much of my crimson juices on his tongue. After he finished or so when I thought he was, I grabbed his hair and pulled him up. A scar next to his lips, it was dark and large. I put that scar there, I bit a hole through his lip on our first kiss, then I sewed it back up. I gave him a kiss, gentler than he wanted, I could tell.

“I got you a cake,” I said, he smiled. “So thoughtful.” We made our way to the kitchen and I pulled out both cakes from the fridge and freezer. “I made this one,” I told him then said “And I bought that one” He stared at them both, a stupid smile on his face. Oh how I hated this man, but oh how I loved him. He complimented my cake, but we both soonly learned mine wasn’t edible. I put too much oil and baking soda and too little egg. I tossed that one before moving onto the ice cream cake. “How was work?” I asked, he stared at me, that sappy look in his eyes. “Good, the only bad part is that you couldn’t be next to me,” he said, a cheeky smirk on his face. I wanted to slap it right off his stupid face. He would probably like that though. He would hold my hand closer to the bruise I would leave and bite the palm of it. I cooked us dinner after eating cake, as I cooked he held onto my waist, drawing circles on the scars that showed, as he made more and more bites on my neck and shoulders, being careful not to hurt me, though I wished he would. I made something simple, chicken bowls.

“Gray,” I said. “Yea baby?” He asked. I looked towards the room and went up signaling for him to follow, and he did just that, I felt the bite marks as I moved, the stinging feelings. Along with the dark bruises and hickeys that littered my skin. When he got into the room I grabbed a vase and smashed it over his head, he collapsed onto the ground. I dragged him to the bed and put the cuffs on his wrist chaining him to our bed. I removed my clothes to reveal the black lingerie underneath and waited for him to wait, spinning my sharpened blade on the tip of my fingers, a drop of blood spilled out and I couldn’t help but use it as lipstick. I sat on my desk and stared at him waiting for him to twitch or wake.

It took 40 minutes but he finally woke up. With a groan he looked around, his brown eyes landing on me, the sweat stuck his hair to his skin. I stared back at him. “What’s this baby..?” He groaned. Not in a bad way, more in a sleepy way. I shrugged. “Fun,” I smiled at him. He rolled his eyes and smiled. “You’ve outdone yourself huh?” He replied. I nodded, I moved over the bed, my hand trailing up his shirt. “You want to do this? Or no?” I asked, I didn’t want to pressure him. He smiled and nodded. I went down and whispered in his ear “tell me when to stop, or safe word or anything,” I may have been a psychopath but I wasn’t a bitch. He nodded.

My hand trailed up his shirt, I could feel his heart race, he stared so lovingly at me. I couldn’t help but wonder why? I used my blade to rip open his shirt, and remove it. His nipples were hard as I ran my fingers over his chest. I bit down on his collarbone. He yelped in surprise. I went up as my fingers twisted and pinched his nips. He groaned out, he tried to grab onto me but was immediately pulled back due to the cuffs. I moved the hair out of his face, before grabbing his throat. He gasped softly as I cut off complete circulation with just my hand. I saw his eyes stare at me before going cloudy, I let go and he gasped for air in soft jagged breaths, I kissed his chin, as a way of asking if he was fine. Of Course I knew he was, I’ve done worse. But, I did smash a vase over his head. He nodded, and I ripped open his pants, I didn’t care how much those clothes cost, and neither did he. I rubbed his dick through his boxers, a wet stain appeared slowly, I stared up at him, his eyes still cloudy from the strangulation, he looked down at me with such pitiful eyes. I ripped off the boxers letting it spring up. He wasn’t too small, nor that big. A whopping 7 inches with a thick base and a few veins. Thankfully it didn’t look mutated like other dicks I’ve seen. I rubbed my finger on the tip, it leaked precum. I smiled softly as I got up and grabbed something. A ball gag. “New safe word or action, knock on the headrest 3 times,” I told him, he nodded as I put the gag on him. Then I grabbed a small vibrator. I put it on his tip and he yelled out, jerking his hips up, I immediately slammed him back down, squeezing his thigh. “I never said to move!” I shouted. I used some medical tape and taped the vibrator to him. “You cum once I’ll make sure you can’t for the next few hours.” I heard a muffled whine come from him.

I got up and I cleaned my hands, sanitizing them, he stared at me, his muffled noises were music to my ears. I grabbed a scalpel, “you’ve been getting greedy” I said, I went in between his legs and cleaned his thigh. Then I carved my name into it, I watched his face as it contorted in pain and pleasure. Tears pricked at his eyes. His dick twitched with every buzz. His tears fell by the time I carved the last letter. I cleaned the wound up and bandaged it. “Good boy, my good good boy..” I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose, his nostrils flared as I kept denying him a release, and the aching pain of his thigh. I smiled as I dragged the scalpel over his throat, only cutting him by accident here and there, I licked the blood off his wounds. I eventually threw the scalpel away from him, and went back down to his begging member, I removed the vibrator from his mess of a body. His dick twitched as I wrapped my hand around it. I looked up at him, soft tears fell as his grunts were muffled. I kissed them away, giving him a break, but never letting him soften. When his breathing stabilized I went down to his member, my tongue dragging along the slit. He bucked up, and I slapped his thigh hard. Not the wounded one of course. That would be cruel. Though he would probably like it. My hand mark was painted on his thigh and I gave him a look, he gave me a begging one back. I began to suck him off. His moans and cries were muffled as he broke beneath me. He was Trembling and twitching with every move. His thighs ached in need as they were restrained as well. I gave him a look that was almost a go-ahead. Almost instantly the warm sticky cream flooded my mouth. It was salty yet sweet. “How much sugar did you intake today?” I asked. He couldn’t answer as he was on cloud 9. I couldn’t help but smirk, I went off the bed and grabbed two metal clamps and attached it to his nipples. They vibrated and he yelled out. He was instantly snapped out of his high. He looked at me with pained and pleasure filled eyes.

I removed the lacy bottoms I wore, they were red, his favorite color. I then unclasped my bra letting it fall. He watched me with such putrid love in his eyes. I positioned myself on top of him. He bucked into me making me slam down, I yelled out. Both in pleasure and pain. I let out a shaky breath, and looked down he looked ready to accept any punishment for his actions. I rocked my hips, soft whimpers and moans escaped my throat. I wrapped my hands around his neck as I grinded on him bouncing up and down. My moans filled the room along with the wet skin slapping. I held his neck harder as I went faster. He was struggling to breathe. I knew that, I threw my head back and a moan escaped my throat. I looked down at his pitiful face, pleasure and struggle etched on it. I let go of his neck and grunts escaped as he struggled to breath. I rode out my orgasm. I moaned his name as it finally slipped out. But just before I could stop moving to relax I heard the handcuff snap and his hand grabbed my hips, then his other hand broke free, as he made me keep riding him, he removed the ball gag, the only thing that connected them was a line of red saliva. I threw my head back again. He grabbed me and broke the cuffs on his ankles as he made me thrust into him. He bit on my shoulder, the blood spilled out dripping on our connection below as he cleaned it with his tongue.

He kept up his relentless pace as my sensitive clit rubbed against him hard. He wasn’t stopping no time as soon as he slammed me down onto the mattress, his lips catching me in a fiery kiss. I scratched his back open within every thrust. I felt nearing my second orgasm. I can swear I saw stars, but he stopped. Leaving me gasping. Oh this bitch.. he looked down at me as I sat in his lap, trembling. He held me still. “H-How’d you break out of those-..?” I asked with shaky breaths. He shrugged. “Needed to fuck you in my way,” he replied, his voice just as shaky. “You're such a little bitch- I was supposed to be the dominant one tonight,” I snapped. He grabbed my cheek in a harsh manner. “Then learn to use the cuffs right and you will, sure you did great, these nipple clamps, hit the right spot, but what if they were on you?” He said, I shook my head. It was supposed to be his night. Me on top. He placed them on my breast anyways. I yelled out. I felt my pussy throb in agony as he used me as a cockwarmer. I needed him to move but he knew how stubborn I was. I would never submit this easily, I shoved him down on the bed, and he held my waist flipping me over. He grabbed my throat and squeezed it. He was weaker than me by a lot. He thrusted into me. “You like being strangled huh?” He gasped out. My nails dug into his back. Blood stains them. He eventually let go of my neck and bit my chest, he even sucked on my nipple a few times which didn’t make anything better. I tried to kick him off. Making him submit. But he was being too good.

He pulled out as he licked his thumb and circled my clit. I gasped sharply. “Gray- a-ah-!” I choked out. He shushed me with his hand. I bit it, he didn’t remove it though, he just made me suck on his fingers and then he shoved them inside my already aching cunt. I was so close to cumming. He knew that, he slapped my pussy. “No no, you said earlier, if you come you can’t cum for the next few hours” he said. He used my words against me! Fucking asshole! I glared at him and kicked him straight in the dick, he dropped the vibrator he was holding. “Fuck!” He yelled in pain and pleasure. “Don’t use my words against me asshole!” I yelled, I went and got back on top of him, I tried hooking him to the handcuffs. But he flipped me over and hooked my wrist up. I panted. He stared smugly. He went to grab the vibrator that had a thick coat of his pre-cum, he used it on her clit. I yelled out. It took not even 10 minutes for me to almost lose control. I sputtered words practically begging to get my release. “Fine, but if I give you that, you can’t stop, I won’t remove the vibrator, in fact I’ll keep it there as I fuck you, is that okay?” He asked. He already knew what I would say without realizing the actions. I nodded and he let me release, I shuddered. But as he promised, he tied the vibrator between my thighs and on my swollen clit. He then used the hook in our ceiling to force my legs up, he thrusted in and out, holding me close, biting my legs, drawing blood and slapping my thighs. I ended up being unable to speak. My breath just hitching and soft whimpers and groans escaped my cracked lips. This went on for around 2 whole hours, I was drenched in my own mess and his pouring out of me, finally he untied me as I felt him shudder once again, his semen was like a wave as it flooded my hole, I yelled out, my mascara staining my face, my body trembled as I came one last time.

Finally catching my breath, he pressed kisses along my bruised clit and slit. He kissed me all the way up to my lips, I kissed him back, he lifted me up and took me to the bath, my legs wrapping around him. We had a nice bath together, it was relaxing.. I helped him change the sheets as it was hard to walk for both of us, his thigh was his main cause, and his brutal fucking was mine. We sunk into bed together. I made my face go into the crook of his neck. “Happy birthday,” I whispered. I felt him smile. “Thank you my love..” he replied. As he held me, I grabbed a Chastity cage and shoved it on his dick, he flinched slightly. And I smiled. “That’s for being a bitch” I replied, he whined. “I’m not removing it. I don’t care.” I replied. He sighed, and spoke. “Fine,”

[ladyjaneasherr]

Jane Asher and Gerald Scarfe photographed at home, 1987.

Part 1 out of 2.

WHY DONT WE CARE

Of course most people would say that we do— but actress Jane Asher knows different. She knows only too well how a moment's carelessness can put your child in danger. And in her new book, she asks why we don't do more to keep our children safe. Mary Fletcher reports. Picture by Sandra Lousada.

Jane Asher sweeps in the front door, dumps a bag of supermarket shopping in one corner, rings her cartoonist husband Gerald Scarfe in his studio upstairs to tell him she's home, checks for messages, pats the dog, and removes the children's toys from the sofa. As one of those energetic people who likes to do several things at once, she has been up since seven, made breakfast for Katie, 14, Alexander, six and four-year-old Rory, driven them to school, done a telephone interview, spent the rest of the morning at her publisher's and been to Marks and Spencer to buy Gerald a pair of trousers. Now, with an hour to spare before another school run, she can sit down in her beautiful Chelsea home and chat. But you get the feeling she'd much prefer to be doing something useful, like icing a cake, learning a script or whipping up a gourmet dinner for six. Preferably all at the same time.

Since her mother took her to an acting agent at the age of five, largely because she was bright, pretty and had flame-coloured hair, Jane has never stopped doing things. She would have you believe she's totally inefficient. Yet it's hard to believe that being actress, author, columnist, charity worker, wife and mother all just get squeezed into her life higgledy-piggledy. "I'm always in a muddle. I rush from one thing to another and never quite get anything done,” she says unconvincingly.

“Gerald laughs when he sees me being called Superwoman because he knows what I'm like when I'm in a bad mood, rushing around shouting at the children and he's eating cornflakes for lunch!"

According to Jane, even child-rearing is being accomplished only by absentmindedly dropping one now and then, or having another one break bone by falling off a bike or a playhouse. It's reassuring to hear her say she's not the perfect mother. Otherwise her eighth and latest book might read like a guilt inducing lecture. Called Keep Your Baby Safe, it sets out every calamity that could possibly befall a baby up to the age of three: choking, cot death, concussion and cat scratches, dehydration, diarrhoea, dog bites, drowning. stings, snake bites, scalds, and sunburn.

As a list of all the ghastly things that can happen to a toddler, it's enough to put you off starting a family for all time. Which is certainly not Jane's intention.

She wrote it because she was asked and has ended up enormously proud of a handbook, which she hopes, unlike her fun books on cake decoration and fancy dress, might actually do some good. "It's difficult to mention everything that could cause an accident without making it seem as if life's not worth trying,” she says. "I've tried to keep the tone light, but at the same time I felt I had to put everything in. "You'd be a saint if you brought your children up without anything ever happening to them. You can't be vigilant every single second and there are some accidents that, no matter how careful you are, will happen anyway. But if the book helps to stop even one tragedy, then I feel it will have been worthwhile.”

As a mother of three, Jane admits to personal experience of at least some of the disasters she advises others to avoid. Even while writing the book, her son Alexander suffered a broken elbow and Rory a scalded foot. “ It's awful when you start looking back -you sound like some hopeless parent permanently tripping over them and throwing them downstairs," she says. "But you'd do anything to avoid your child being in pain. When Alexander broke his elbow, the feeling I had as a mother was m indescribable. It was the most hellish time of my life. When he was in the hospital screaming in agony, the sense of helplessness was absolutely ghastly the worst possible thing one could imagine. I remember my mother always said how she wished she could have the pain for us and I knew then exactly what she meant. Somehow the guilt of knowing that perhaps you could have prevented it makes it worse." Alexander's elbow is now back in working order, but the accident reinforced Jane's belief that not enough attention is paid to child safety.

(continued in the next post).

[lesleymoonwriter]

Find the Word Tag

This is an open tag from @oh-no-another-idea! Thank you for the open tag! My words are party, disgrace, name, and invite. I'm going to share some more Royal Frog Conspiracy with you all!

But first, I'm leaving this tag open to anyone who wants to participate! Your words are light, gem, ink, and wood.

Now, onward to some more Page Thieves!

Party

The normal bustle was winding down for the day, with specks of people here and there closing up shop or purchasing a few last items. Or at least, what I assumed was the normal bustle. My life up until this moment had been a sheltered one. I’d spent most of it tucked away inside the manor, with the occasional brief outing to attend a ball or party. My world was nothing but a tiny box, with only a vague awareness of the larger world outside it. 

Disgrace

By now both of my hands were over my mouth, and my face was starting to get wet and hot. I could feel my breath race faster with every biting word from my parents – “Stop this!” “Do you mean to disgrace us?” “This is no way to act!” –And while I tried and tried and tried to explain, my words were only drowned out by the frog inside my throat.

Name

Once he confirmed we were in our proper placements, Hardy opened the door for a tall, gaunt man, who did not look pleased to see us. I recognized him as a fixture of the many social gatherings my family had attended, a presence that forever lurked in the background. I was sure I’d been introduced to this man many, many times… even if I couldn’t remember his name.  “Sir Wedgeworth. Lady Wedgeworth. And child.”  “Sir Kingsley! It is ever so nice to host you this morning!” My mother greeted with artificial cheeriness, “Please, please, do step inside!”

Invite

Somewhere between their need for an explanation and my undelivered supper roll, the bakery workers decided to invite me to their living quarters for dinner. Said quarters were, to put it bluntly, cramped. The kitchen, laundry, and seating areas all overlapped, with each making advances into the others’ territories. Spare cookware was hung behind the washtub, towels were draped over the armchairs to dry, and various paper scraps and metal bits broke free from a desk in the corner to litter every available surface. 

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 163

Heartache/A Good Man Goes to War

“Heartache”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean investigate a string of unusual murders in which the victims were all recipients of organs from the same donor

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: well, hmm. I wouldn’t be out running alone late at night…..or at all. So, maybe??

I don’t know what it is but this feels like a much older episode

You’re allowed to produce shop, Dean. It’s good for you. Don’t get mad at Sam for wanting fresh, organic apples

This officer HATES Dean lol

I wanna be mad at Dean every time he makes remarks about Sam’s year off, but I’d be the same way

Oh thank god Sam was recording that guy’s babbling. Ah, damn.

How…did Sam just get access to that dude’s medical records??

How did I know they’d reverse the expectation for that next murder. Good for her

I can’t believe we’re back on the Sam wants out of the family business conversation AGAIN

I shouldn’t be…so…at her smearing blood on her face and taking a bite of a human heart

Do we know for sure that Eleanor is his mom though?? Oh. OH. OHHH. The football player drove off the road to end his deal with the Mayan maize god.

And she wasn’t his mom!!! Betsy from the letters IS Eleanor

I can’t tell if she…….DEAN. Anyway. Eleanor and Brick’s story is beautiful and sad and horrifying all at once

I would let her rip out my heart and eat it in front of me

It’s literally so weird that they forgot Sam was there, too. All three focused so much on Dean, and all Sam had to do was bash one of them over the head with a beer bottle?

Oh. Sam’s gonna try to leave again…

“A Good Man Goes to War”

Plot Description: it’s the battle of Demon’s Run, and River Song has something to tell the Doctor

The way Amy and Rory constantly get torn away from each other…

AND the way they keep trying to make us think Amy’s in love with the Doctor ALL THE FUCKING TIME

It’s exhausting

I’m sure these like…space station grunt workers will tie into the grander scheme at some point but I can’t bring myself to care about them…yet…?

Is this the Silurian woman who becomes a…not companion, but frequent ally of the Doctor? (The way my brain went through V names and tried to convince me her name was Vriska as if I’ve even read homestuck) it IS her because that’s Jenny. Jenny, right?? Yes.

Oh to be fighting with laser guns but dressed like you’re in Pride and Prejudice. That’s such a good way to stage a scene

Why DO they even attempt to keep River locked up? Or is it mostly self-imposed out of some sense of penance

Knowing what we eventually find out about River and hearing her tell Rory that it’s her birthday 😭

Ohhhh…the space station grunts are the underlings to the people who kidnapped Amy.

They really made the headless monks Sith Nazgûl huh?

I do like the interspecies lesbians

It’s interesting to think about this episode in contrast to The Pandorica Opens (if that was the first of the Pandorica episodes). We have a lot of the same elements, but now the Doctor has gathered a group of different alien species to do the attacking. It’s kind of no wonder the one grunt talks of him as a dark legend

The pirate crew??????? Hell yeah!

One, the Colonel Run Away speech is powerful but two, you being angry isn’t new, Doc. You can pretend you’re a silly little muppet man all you want but….no

Oh I like that bit of dialogue too “the anger of a good man is not a problem. good men have too many rules” “good men don’t need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many”

Noooooo, after that really touching reunion I’D FORGOTTEN THAT THEY REPLACED MELODY TOO. THAT’S NOT THEIR REAL BABY

I can’t believe he’s putting a time limit on Amy and the Doctor hugging…..

That would be so unbelievably traumatizing. If your newborn child liquified in your arms.

No matter what it is that River says here, no matter how right she is, part of the reason she couldn’t come here til now was because she shouldn’t cross her own time stream

[inspiredartisticcreations]

FANMADE NETFLIX SERIES

Meeting riz ahmed! 😱

"He is a worldwide superstar, well known for his amazing roles and activist beliefs, his upcoming career will be a blast, so hear we have Riz Ahmed everyone, give him a cheer and clap" said Jimmy kimmel. Rina heard the door bell of her apartment then she turned off the TV quickly and went to open the door, it was her older sister she walked in with lots of shopping bags in her hands, she put them on top of her kitchen counters and shook her hands down in pain, "those were heavy" she said Rina raised one of her eyebrow, "who told you to carry them all the way up like that?" Rina said her sister scoffed, "it's done now, anyways what were you doing?" asked her sister, Rina tried to play it cool, "me... ummm I was just sorting out my clothes" she said her sister looked at her with a knowing face, "what?" said Rina questionly, "nothing" said her sister.

They both put dinner together later on in the evening, they sat down on the sofa to eat, her sister was swiping and texting through her phone and Rina was watching TV as she eat, "hmm this actually came out really good" said Rina her sister agreed, putting the phone down and taking a mouthfull, "hey how's your cake bakery going?" asked her sister Rina stopped before taking a bite of her food and looked down, "umm yeah, it's alright not many new customers but do we get the regulars" she said finally eating, her sister looked at her with bit of sympathy, "hey Rina you do know that I've always got a place for you to work in our family business, I mean mum and dad would definitely like it, and I mean come on its not every's hand when it comes to making a small business big?" said her sister, Rina felt a little urge of annoyance build up, then she slammed her plate of food down "what are you trying to say, sheena? she said angrily, Sheena looked a little surprised, "Oh I'm sorry Rina, I honestly didn't mean it like that" she said Rina rolled her eyes and sat back down grabbing the plate again and eating angrily stabbing the fork into her food aggressively, her sister sighed and then slowly put her plate down, "look hun, I understand it can be annoying, at first but trust me, myself and mum, dad only want the best for you, I mean come on, there's no need to be like this, if you even need me my help, then I am always here for you." Said her sister facing her and slightly touching her shoulder, Rina stopped eating and then gave her sister a side hug, her sister stroked her back smiling tenderly, "okay, I need to be off I've got stuffs to do" said her sister grabbing her bag and phone, Rina said her goodbyes and closed the door.

Rina got ready bed and completed a series of night time routines, she jumped into bed and then got scrolling on her phone, she then came across a post on instagram where the actor Riz Ahmed had posted a picture of his recent movie poster, she smiled then liked the post and started to read the comments, "wow some fans they are" she said as she giggled "but then again he is quite good looking?" Rina said, she eventually decided to put her phone down and fell asleep.

The next morning Rina quickly got up as her alarm went off, heading to the shower and getting a fresh wash for the the early morning, she got ready really fast, keeping an eye on the time, she finally grabbed her coat and bag and ran out, as soon as she went out of the main building she noticed it was heavy rain and then moaned in pain, "seriously?" Rina didn't have time to grab her umbrella so she covered her head with her coat and ran off.

She finally made it to her bakery and quickly ran inside already her two workers were inside working then watching her as she ran in and tossed her coat aside, she gave them both a look then they quickly got back into work, "urrggh this horrible rain" Rina said getting into her apran one of the female workers slowly went upto her "have you seen the news, it says there's a chance that the rain may cause flood" she said Rina looked a little concerned "a flood you say?" she said the worker nodded yes "tonight it can happen if the rain don't stop" said the worker. Rina looked out the window and watched the heavy fall of rain, later that afternoon it was still pouring and it looked very dull outside Rina was working on cake sample and then stopped for a short break, one of her other colleagues left a little earlier and now there was just the two of them. "So doing anything this weekend?: Rina asked her colleague her colleague just scoffed a little "well not in this weather I don't" she said now slightly laughing, Rina smiled a little then they decided to get back to work, now it was late afternoon and time to close Rina and her colleague tidyed up the bakery and then as they were about to leave they noticed the rain on the ground a little rise. They looked at each other feeling a little nervous to step outside then Rina opened the door and her colleague followed her outside she gave her a quick hug and said goodbye.

They both walked off in different directions. RIna was struggling to walk without a umbrella as she used her coat again to help her protect from the heavy rain, the gust of wind was forcing her back as she was heavily walking through the ground which had seemed to risen more now, she could see some people walking around with their big umbrellas and raincoats she had wished that she had one of those, now regretting to even have come to work.

She decided to take shelter under some big library building, and put down her coat as her arms were aching her, she let out a big breath of relief out of tiredness, and then other person came and stood a few inches away from RIna, she was fixing her hair as the rain had made it all wet, as she was ringing out all the water from her hair she heard a voice a few inch away, "hey do you mind, your getting me all wet with your hair" said a voice, Rina stood up straight and then turned to face the voice, she froze on the spot and then her eyes got wider in excitement, she couldn't believe her eyes it was HIM! HIM.

To be continued...

[casspurrjoybell-24]

Sugar Punch - Chapter 24

*Warning Adult Content* SUGAR🥊 🥊PUNCH

Seeing Theo with a new haircut and wearing clothes that looked more like him, I couldn't help but think how good he looked now.

Hell, even when he wore those crap t-shirts with his bed hair, I thought he still looked good but now, I could clearly see his face and every single beauty mark and freckle I didn't notice before today.

All he needed was that hair cut to see that Theo was a good-looking guy, shy, timid and not always present in the moment but either way, he looked more confident to me, with his head held high.

I really wanted to kiss him, if not for the people surrounding us.

"Is this really, okay?" Theo whispers as I look down to see what he was talking about.

We were in a sports shop and after persuading him to join 'No Limits' again, I thought it was time he had his own gym clothes, instead of lending the hand me down gym clothes I gave him, that were a size too big for his skinny body.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." I couldn't help but laugh. "How do they feel?"

No outfit was complete without the perfect trainers and Theo had picked out a pair of Nike white and red trainers that were similar to the ones I wore at the gym, he was currently standing up to walk around in them.

"Um, they're good, I think?" he mumbled, a blush on his cheeks.

We've only been out together for an hour and so far, he's said the same thing to everything he's tried on 'they're good, I think' I was sure if he said those words again, I'd lose my mind on him.

"We'll take them," I tell the staff worker, a girl the same age as Theo.

She nods her head shyly as Theo takes them off and hands them to the girl, then starts to put his beat-up trainers on that he brought with him from his house.

"Maddox, isn't this too much?" Theo asks, as I shrug, Theo following behind me as I walk to pay for everything we bought.

What I've spent on Theo in the past two hours was nothing compared to what I spent on clothes, if anything at all, from all the sponsors I have giving me free clothes, shoes and gifts, with the money I had, it didn't even make a scratch in my bank account.

Since I persuaded Theo to join the gym again, I made a note to buy things he would need for training when I'm not there, all these things will come in handy when he works out, which I know it's something he's invested in.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, using my card to pay for the young girl behind the counter, whilst noticing the time on my smartwatch.

"I have thirty minutes before I need to drop you off, we can grab a bite on the way to Chris'."

Theo stood timidly and despite being uncomfortable with me in public, especially when people stopped me to shake my hand and ask for a selfie, he kept his composure and silently watched, instead of walking away embarrassed.

Even now, Theo was holding it in but I knew what he really fought from the look on his face, as much as he tried to hide it.

I never thought I'd find it amusing after seeing how jealous a guy can get, definitely over me, I hated when girls got clingy and jealous from the times I used to mess around before I got professional, I always ignored it then.

Theo was the jealous type too, that much was obvious from the young girls' stares and using every given opportunity to touch me, I let it happen just to see his little nostrils flare as he glared at the poor girl.

Look at me, almost thirty and I love a guy getting clingy over me.

I was glad I asked him out this morning, I felt like after last night I needed to calm down before I did something I would regret, like find out where this Eric lived and beat the shit out of him in front of his family.

Man, last night I had never been more ready to knock a kid on his ass and after spending time with Theo alone, I couldn't see why this Eric would target Theo in the first place, just because he was too much of a coward to admit his feelings.

I'm not Eric, although I don't know what I want with Theo, I wouldn't hurt him, just looking at him all happy and carefree makes me feel like a decent human being and spending time with him set my mind at ease, unlike the days before I got involved with him.

Walking with Theo out the store to where I parked my car in the carpark, I really didn't want to go train, for the first time in my life I just wanted to go home and do nothing, spend time with someone.

Unlocking the car, I put his stuff in the back, then I get into the driver's seat and close the door, as does Theo as he sits next to me.

"Seatbelt," I tell him as he nods his head.

How would this even work, if I started dating this guy?

I've not been in a relationship since Pixie, not to mention I'm well known in the sport, coming out gay would cause waves I wasn't sure I was ready to ride, not because I was afraid but because I didn't know if I was gay or if Theo was either and whatever we felt for each other was just a fling of sorts.

It didn't feel that way and I was sure I wasn't gay, only Theo got me hard, thinking of doing it with another guy felt disgusting to me, like being forced to drink cheap wine, it just didn't do anything for me.

Fuck, I like him, something about him made me happy and it annoyed me that I couldn't make up my damn mind.

I like having sex with him and spending time together but as soon as we label this shit, then it's real and that's when I can't protect him from what will come.

The press, the fans, fuck I don't even want to get started on strangers coming up to him with harassment, I've seen it happen more than once, gay, straight, shit, it didn't matter.

Was he ready for that?

"Are you sure you'll be alright at Chris'?" I asked him, glancing at him as we hit a red light.

"Hmm?"

He turns from the window to look at me.

"Yeah, If you say it's fine... I'm sure I won't be there for l-ong, once I find my own place..."

I tap my finger against the steering wheel, the question right there, poking at me, screaming to come out and just ask him but the light went green and I had no choice but to focus on the road.

Maddox, you damn pussy.

"When is your fight?" Theo asks, as I see him from the corner of my eye looking out the window.

"In two weeks," I spoke. "It'll be in Vegas so starting today I'll be training every day instead of four days a week, so just a heads up, it might be hard to get hold of me but if you need me just throw me a text."

Theo went quiet in his seat and once I pulled into a drive through for subway, I felt this scratching feeling inside of me that wouldn't go away.

"What do you want on your sandwich?" I asked him, pulling up to the order window.

He looked at me with a frown, before his nervous eyes went to the menu in front of us, clear panic on his face as I stared in amusement as he tried to find and pick something.

"Um, I don't really..." he stutters, before looking at me.

"I'll get you my usual," I said, before ordering for us, not missing the way Theo sighed out and relaxed in his seat, almost like he tried to make himself sink into the seat as he turned his bright cheeks away from me.

After ordering the food and collecting the sandwiches, I drove over to Chris's apartment in the city to drop Theo off before I drive down to the gym to train, the scratching feeling only getting worse the closer we got to Chris's apartment.

Fuck it, I'm going to ask him, what's the worst that will happen?

I'm not a teenager anymore.

Once I parked the car in the underground apartment parking and both Theo and I are on the elevator, I turn to him and take a deep breath out.

"Theo?"

Theo turns and looks at me, holding his bags in his hands and looking tired from shopping.

"Yeah?" he asks, his shy eyes meeting mine.

"Let's date," I come out and say it, hating the feeling of my heart race rising and my hands suddenly sweating.

I don't get nervous, I don't get scared, so what the fuck am I so worried about?

He likes me, I was sure of it, so why... it wasn't like he'll reject me.

Fuck... now I wish I never asked.

Theo had been frozen in the same spot all the way to Chris' floor, with his eyes widened on mine, almost like I broke the guy.

His facial expressions changed rapidly, from what I could tell was from surprise, to confusion, to realization.

We reach Chris' apartment and I input the lock code for the door, once it was open, I held the door for Theo, who robotically walked past me and into the apartment.

I felt like my eyeballs were sweating but I knew if I blinked, I would miss something, I had to see if I wasn't the only one wanting this... relationship, this connection... I had to see for myself how he took it.

"Like..." his quiet voice spoke out in front of me as I closed the door behind me. "Like... boyfriends?" he asks, turning around to face me, giving me a clear view of just how red he is right now on his face.

Like boyfriends... Theo, you're making it very hard for me not to laugh at you right now.

"Yeah, but not just 'like boyfriends' but boyfriends," I say, stepping closer to him.

"I won't see anyone else is what I'm saying Theo, we don't have to throw a label on it right now but if you say yes and you want this, we'll go at your pace."

I wish I knew what Theo was thinking right now because to me it looked like he was ready to cry but I had to let him do this himself, I wasn't going to force or baby him into giving me a response, hell, if he didn't want this I would take it with a grain of salt and call it a day, no hard feelings.

Was I wrong to ask?

Am I being selfish right now?

Theo was a good person, he didn't know anything about me and as much as I've tried to stay away from him, to avoid him seeing the real me or learning too much that could cause him to never want to see me again, yet... I couldn't turn away from him.

I really was a bastard, what am I even doing?

I should just go and forget all about this.

"Sorry," I say, swallowing the dry lump in my throat. "I don't know what I'm..."

"I'm not saying no…. but the way I am right now, I can never stand beside you as your equal… I'm a nobody."

His voice was breaking, as his hands were wrapping around me tightly as I raised my arms and wrapped them around him, sighing out when I hear him start to cry softly in my chest.

It's... not a rejection but then why can't I feel happy about it either?

It felt like he was saying he wasn't good enough to be with me, which I knew was bullshit, I saw him as an equal, he didn't need to prove anything to me.

"Theo, why are you saying this?" I ask, stroking his back as I closed my eyes to calm myself down.

Theo didn't say anything else, other than hug me tighter, making me chuckle out as my watch starts beeping, a reminder that I should be making my way to the gym to train.

I pulled back from Theo and made him look at me by lifting his chin, I saw how his once pretty face was now wet with tears and his eyes were red from crying, he looked like a child who just got told off.

"You don't need to prove anything to me Theo, I wouldn't be here if I didn't see you as my equal, you don't have to be somebody you're not to please me, so never say that shit to me again," I tell him, as his bottom lip shakes.

Honestly, this guy.

I lean down and press my lips to his damp ones and wrap my hands under his ass to lift him up against me, making him put his arms on my shoulder for support as I deepen the kiss as I press his back up against a nearby wall.

I never thought he'd ever get me so frustrated before but after hearing what he thinks, it can only upset me to realize he thought like this the entire time, that he saw himself in such a dim lit light when he was next to me.

I saw his potential, his greatness the moment I laid eyes on him, that skinny, dorky kid who still can't hold eye contact with me, now if only Theo saw that in himself...

Ignoring the buzzing on my smartwatch, I groan out in frustration as I try and not grind myself against Theo, already reaching my limit just from a simple kiss from his lips.

I really am weak, what the hell is this guy even doing to me?

"I need to go," I say putting him down slowly, my lips still near his as I look at him.

"This isn't over, Theo," I say, moving slowly away from him, as I saw the flicker in his eye and the small smile on his lips.

I really don't want to go but I don't have a choice, this is the best I will get for now, which is more than I deserved.

"I'll call you."

"Okay," he says quietly, as I opened the front door, smiling at him, all flustered and shy.

"Happy Birthday, Theo," I tightly say, before I closed the door behind me.

Suddenly, the door flung open and almost knocked me by the force of it as Theo comes rushing out as he reaches out and grabs my jacket as his wild eyes focus on me, holding me in his gaze.

"Yes," he says confidently, despite how nervous he looked. "I won't see anyone else either, just you."

A smirk escaped my lips as I nodded my head, a new warm feeling washing over me as I stare at Theo, taking the leap with me instead of staying on the side-lines and wondering.

Fuck it all, we were both in it now and there was just no way going back, Theo was a weakness and I was all for it because I knew that there would be no running away from me, not again and not with Theo.

If only he knew how much I was falling for him too, maybe next time I'll get a chance to tell him...

Next time, I'm not going to hold back.