#i also love how he just squashes the kids behind him at once

[lilithofpenandbook]

The scene where Snape protects the kids from Werewolf Lupin is so fucking funny to me

He goes from "IM GONNA MURDER YOU" to "What's going on" to "oh SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!"

The amount of emotions that he goes through in those five seconds is priceless

He literally fucking pauses for a whole second going 'what the fuck..?' and then his brain catches up to his eyes and he goes "WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

[milunalupin]

— full moon farms

Part One: Potter's Pumpkins

james potter x reader ★ 795 words

thank you to the lovely @ttulipwritezz for helping me out <3

When Pandora had invited you to come to the farm she worked at, you assumed you would be wandering around the attractions together.

"There's tons to do here, and my shift is only for a few more hours!" your best friend squeezed your hands and smiled apologetically.

You knew it wasn't with mal-intent, having you come by yourself. Having just moved into town, your old dormmate thought it would be a good idea to meet the locals and get out of your flat. You supposed you should stay and look around since you're already here, although the chilly autumn breeze had you wishing you hadn't forgotten your jacket back home.

"Have fun, love you!" she blew you a kiss as her perfectly manicured hands pulled her hair up into a ponytail. You held back a sigh as you watched her blonde curls bounce back to the cafe.

You take it you should start somewhere, so you head the closest attraction, the pumpkin patch. The cobblestone trail was adorned with autumn-colored flags and pumpkin-shaped fairy lights. At the entrance of the patch stood a wooden archway with a hand painted sign reading 'Potter's Pumpkins'.

Multitudes of younger kids ran around, warming your heart as some attempted to pick up the larger pumpkins, or begged their parents for a mini one to take home. To your left were multiple tables that were covered in what looked like the aftermath of a pumpkin massacre.

"Afternoon! Is there anything I can help you with?"

A surprised gasp escaped you as you almost ran into the tall stranger, your hand laid over your chest.

"Oh," your response came late, not wanting to offend the man standing before you by laughing at his stereotypical red flannel and overalls, "No, just walking around, thank you."

He smiled brightly as if he hadn't noticed your hesitancy, his shirt buttons struggling to stay together as he lifted an arm to run a hand through his curls.

“What a shame! You just missed the pumpkin carving contest. Little Christopher carved a wicked design—first prize was a free hayride and a dozen donuts from the café.” Sighing, he nodded toward the chaotic scene of orange pulp you had observed just moments before.

"That's nice, we didn't have anything like this back home." you smiled.

"Well, allow me to give you a little tour then, follow me."

As he walked you around around the patch, James explained explained to you the origins of Full Moon Farms, how it was his friend Remus' uncle's farm and him and his friends grew up on these grounds. Eventually the old man retired, leaving the property to Remus, who then with the help of James and their other friend Sirius made it into a local attraction during the autumn season.

"I really want the kids to have a good time here, so we also do carving contests, painting, and sack races."

James points out your untied shoelace, so you two take a break on a nearby bench. Before you could full sit down he was already on one knee pulling on your laces.

"Not pulling too tight, am I?"

You shook your head no, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. As soon as he finished tying your shoes, he sat beside you on the old bench, jumping into a friendly interrogation. You answered his questions about your background and reasons for moving to this little town happily. In return he gave you great recommendations on shops and restaurants to try in town.

He was very expressive when he spoke, his hands waving anywhere and everywhere, while his bright eyes danced around your face, his smile growing with every positive reaction you gave him. You quietly wonder if it's the autumn chill or the look he's giving you that sends a shiver through you.

Once you circle back to his booth, he reaches behind the counter and pulls out a miniature pumpkin, "Welcome to town, this one's on me."

"Oh I can't," you shook your head, pushing the orange squash back into his hands.

"You can," he grins, putting his larger hands over yours to move his offering back to you, "I insist."

"That's really sweet of you James, thank you so much."

"Well, I'm glad Pandora dragged you out here, it was nice meeting you." his eyes trailed from the pumpkin in your hands up to your face, quickly fixing his posture and moving his gaze as it wasn't very professional to be staring at you this long. "Um, if you're not sure where to go next, I'd recommend the haunted house down this way, left of the popcorn cart."

Cradling your new pumpkin, you thanked and waved goodbye to the bespectacled man and followed the wooden fences to the next attraction.

[gojoscalico]

Turn Back Time || f i n a l

Summary: You were never sure when it started to fall apart but it did. 10 Years later and now you're facing him again. Will it reignite the feelings you both once had for one another? Or will you both end up walking away from each other once again? Word Count: 1116 a/n: sorry yall i got locked out of my account on my computer but I was able to get it back and also have a new story coming!! But I hoped you all enjoyed this story and hope to see yall in my next one Tags: @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @thefictionalcharacterssimp @picievi @tqd4455 @lenasvoid @gojosatorubrainrot @yozora7154 @luciiferian <-previous

==four years later==

“Mommy!” You looked down at the little guy pulling at your dress. Giggling as you bent over to carry him into your arms. “That was the first time you called me mommy Haru, buuuut did you brush your teeth and wash your face?” The little boy smiled as he showed you his teeth with pride. “Squeaky cwean just like you showed me!” Mesmerized by the little one’s cuteness you squashed him in between your arms while embellishing him in kisses. “You’re too cuuuuute I can’t. Ugh…and your cute little teddy sweater…did you put that on all by yourself?” The little boy jumped down from your arms, twirling around as he placed both his hands on the side of his body. “Hehe, Papa has been showing me how to put my clothes on! Haru did good?” 

You laugh as you notice the pants were on backwards but how can you tell him when he was so proud. “Very good but let’s fix your pants or Papa will make fun of you! Also we have to go pick up Papa and your uncle. So why don’t you put on those shoes and grab your bag?” Haru gifts you with a big smile as he runs towards the living room grabbing his bag you had put together and putting his shoes on. “Don’t forget your hat and Kiko.” Haru looks up at you as he runs into your bedroom grabbing his stuffed frog and yellow hat, running back to your side eagerly grabbing your hands as you open the door to your home. 

“Haru!” You looked at Suguru and Satoru as Haru ran up to Suguru. “Papa! I missed you.” You smiled as Satoru ran to you, placing a kiss on your lips. “And I missed you.” Suguru rolls his eyes as Riko grabs Haru’s bag from your hand. “Thank you for watching him, while we were both gone.” You smiled at Rika handing her Haru’s Kiko. “Anytime, Don’t get mad but he picked up a habit while you were gone.” Rika laughed as she gave Haru a kiss on the forehead, “Is he calling you mommy too?” 

“Too? Ugh Now I am heartbroken. Who can he possibly be calling Mommy other than me?” Rika laughed at your remark, “Shoko, Nobara, Yuji and even Megumi.” You let out a fake sob, “Not Megumi and Yuji. Haru here I thought I was special.” Haru laughs as he pulls on your skirt signaling you to get down. Following little Haru’s orders you bent down to his level where he placed a kiss on your cheek giggling as he ran behind Suguru. “You are special. Because I am going to marry you when I’m older. And I only call those who I love mommy. Because I love mommy.” He said giggling into his hands. His innocence makes you want to smother him in thousands of kisses. Wishing that if you were to have a kid that he would be as cute as Haru.

“You little brat! You can’t marry her because she’s already my wife.” Satoru mocked as he stuck his tongue out at the little three-year-old. Laughing, you nudged Satoru. Only his childishness would take a child’s little crush seriously. “Come on Satoru I think you might lose to a kid. He even slept with me last night.” Satoru looked at the little runt as he ran towards him, picking him up and throwing him up in the air. “Why did the little monsters scare you?” He giggled as Haru pouted, “N-No I was cold! And Y/N was the one that was scawed so she asked me if I could sleep next to herw and I was feewing nice! You think just because you’re mommy’s bwothew I won’t fight you?!” Everyone laughed at Haru’s cute little spiel. You looked at Riko, the only way to save her from her destiny was to make her a part of the Gojo family. No one was able to stop Satoru from doing it, because who would dare to defy the honored one. Once she was a Gojo she was untouchable, she was safe.

“That’s right. I was scared. Give my future husband a break.” You played along while pinching Haru’s cheeks.

“Satoru holding a baby while standing next to Y/N. What a sight. When are you two gonna have one of your own? This is a sight that we can all get used to.” Shoko stated as she pulled up with her twins and Haibara. Satoru smiled at you as he kissed your cheeks right at the spot Haru had kissed even if he was a kid there was no way he'd let another man kiss his wife. “Don’t worry we will get right on it.” You shook your head laughing, digging into your purse as you pulled out an envelope. “Actually…maybe sooner than you all think.” Everyone watched as you pulled out a piece of paper from the envelope. “I’m pregnant.” 

Everyone stood still in shock, you watched Satoru’s expression go from being his playful self to a more serious tone as he put Haru down. “Wait…seriously?” You nodded, still holding up the paper as he picked you up, placing a kiss on your lips. “Oh my god…am I allowed to carry you like that?” You giggled as you pulled him in for another kiss, “Of course…I’m pregnant, not made of glass.” Satoru gave you the biggest smile he has ever made all the years you’ve known him as everyone started to gather around you. “Finally. Welcome to the mom’s club!” Shoko yelled as she embraced you. 

You weren’t going to lie. You were afraid. You didn’t know what it would be like being a mother with a kid that you weren’t just babysitting but you sure as hell was gonna try. If your mother did anything for you it was to teach you how a mother should not be. You smiled at your friends as they all congratulated the two of you. When you felt a sense of relief and happiness like your body was telling you that this is where you belonged. Right here at this moment. Everything you had been through was for you to be here. Looking back in your fucked up life. You knew what you weren’t going to do. You knew that even if you were afraid Satoru would be next to you. You weren’t alone anymore. You have friends you can call family now. Family that was willing to die for you. Family that will help you become the best mother you can be. And right  next to you was a man that loved you more than anything in the world.

[neopetting]

Maybe five or six for the ship prompts!

5 - write about a casual kiss between your ship

The kitchen floods with light—his body with panic. Bob winces. Briefly, stupidly, he considers trying to shove the bread behind the toaster oven and making up a lie about the butter. I was… just… taking it out so it would be soft for breakfast. No, Lin, I do this all the time. Well, you’ve never woken up while I was doing it before!

He has a good five or six inches on his wife, but the steely look in her eye makes her shape fill the doorway. Arms crossed, she pads angrily over to him on her tiny, pointy, kicky, bare feet. Some merciful facet of his brain that isn’t currently terrified registers the way her hips move under her nightgown. He tries to swallow, but all his spit has disappeared. And his mouth is full of evidence.

Bob lowers the piece of bread in his hand and attempts to form words around the chunk still in his mouth. “I’m—”

“What? Sorry?” Linda reaches him, instantly all up in his face, her voice uncharacteristically hushed to account for their sleeping kids, yet somehow still deafening. “You’re sorry I caught’cha, Bobby?” She narrows her eyes, hissing out the next part so it sounds extra venomous. “With your mistress?”

He squints back at her, finally choking down his glorious, yeasty, perfectly-buttered bite of bread. Focusing on the taste puts some fight in him.

“…You know what? I’m not sorry.” Bob tenses his whole body to keep from chuckling as he watches her mouth fall open in exaggerated shock. “Yeah, that’s right. You kicked me awake, and then I couldn’t go back to sleep thinking about the bread all alone out here. It probably thought we didn’t love it enough to eat it right away.”

Linda is leaning on him now, squashing her torso against his arm with considerable force. Is she… trying to physically intimidate him? Or maybe she thinks she can seduce him into defeat by pressing her chest against his side, drumming up some cleavage. It wouldn’t be the first time. Plenty of Lin’s wiles begin with her just kind of… putting her boobs on him.

Bob surveys her coolly. “Also,” he says, tapping a finger against the loaf on the counter, “it’s not my mistress. It’s like… my child.” His voice rasps with sudden emotion. “This bread is our fourth child.”

One corner of Linda’s mouth lifts into a lopsided smile, but she stays incredulous. “Oh, so you were on daddy duty, huh? Came to check on our little bun-fresh-out-the-oven?” Delighting herself, her smile is the real deal now. “Didja hear it rye-ing over the baby monitor?”

He rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts, but can’t hide his amusement. “You know it’s not rye. It’s—”

“Garlic sourdough woven with rosemary-thyme whole wheat sourdough,” she chimes in, doing her best Dedicated Chef Bob impression—a deep, goofy voice that sounds nothing like him. She wraps an arm around her husband, breaching the waistband of his boxers to slide her palm against his soft, warm hip. Planting her chin on his shoulder, she stifles a yawn. “See? I listen. I’m a good flour mama.”

Bob hums, a floaty sensation ballooning in his chest as she parrots back to him the recipe he’d been mentioning all week. It’s not surprising, anymore, how Linda pays attention to the things that excite him. But it’s never stopped feeling good.

“You are,” he confirms. From the corner of his eye, he takes a second to study her. Lin’s glasses are sitting a bit crooked, probably from hastily throwing them on to catch him in the act. Her thick, wavy hair is mussed from sleep. She notices him sneaking a stare and trains her ridiculously dark brown eyes on his. Definitely not for the first time, Bob thinks about how her eye color perfectly matches just-ground espresso after it’s been tamped down tight, waiting to be brewed. Sometimes he struggles to maintain eye contact, even with someone he’s loved for fifteen years, but he holds her gaze. Waits a beat. “You’re one in glu-ten million.”

She blinks once. Twice. Then she’s snort-laughing much too loudly and giving his love handle an affectionate squeeze, making him yelp and twist toward her. “Look at youuu, bein’ all cutesy-wootsey!” Her free hand skitters up his chest and brushes over his mustache as she beams at him. “Must be the Thanksgiving Eve magic. You gonna kiss me under the wishbone tomorrow before you go full crazy-pants kitchen troll, or what?”

“Mmmaybe.” Bob smiles gently against her fingertips. “Tina will fight you for the wishbone, though. I guess I could… kiss you under some giblets? Uh, before I start the gravy.”

“Ooh, giblet kisses. Romantic,” Linda coos. Her hand slips out of his shorts and he feels her fingers patter against the underside of his butt cheek. She points her chin toward the bread, eyes bright. “Now gimme a piece!”

Grabbing the serrated knife, Bob can’t suppress a wobbly giggle. “It’s so good, Lin. Better than I thought I could get it. I think the test loaves really helped.”

Earlier in the week, he had baked each dough recipe into two smaller, individual loaves to get their proofs right. Then, cautiously happy with the results, he’d launched the main event—meticulously braiding the batches together, then reshaping them into a single round, bubbly, perfectly-marbled mass. He’d been consumed by bread stuff for days. At one point, Linda had resorted to wrestling the laptop away from him when he’d stayed up until 2 AM researching techniques to keep sourdough properly inflated. But it was worth it. The final loaf is crusty and deeply golden all along its surface, the lighter and darker dough shades contrasting beautifully. Specks of the chopped herbs mixed into its whole wheat portions are visible in the scores, which look like stalks of wheat. The bread is downright gorgeous. Every time Bob lays eyes on it, he wants to burst into tears.

“Aww, my little Bobby baker,” Linda says. She stares hungrily as the knife glides through the loaf with several satisfying crunches. “I feel kinda dirty, though.” Her nails tap against the countertop in anticipation. “You made a whole big show about nobody eating it ‘til tomorrow.”

Bob snorts. “That was just so Gene wouldn’t eat literally all of it. He’s as excited about it as I am.” He slathers Linda’s slice in the fancy farmer’s market butter he’d safeguarded to use exclusively with his bread, then presents it to her.

She reaches for it, eyes shining, but furrows her brow when he pulls it back slightly. Shifting closer, she goes for it again. Bob holds the piece out of range, eyebrows raised and wearing the faintest of smirks. Linda scrunches her nose at him, about to complain, before she tracks him looking at her lips and realization dawns. She laughs tenderly and balls a fist in his shirt, leaning up and in. He meets her halfway. The kiss is quick, but so sweet that both their eyelids flutter shut.

“Ooh, mm,” Linda exclaims. “You taste like butter.” She yanks firmly on his collar. “Give me the friggin’ bread.”

Bob offers it in earnest. Suddenly, he’s plagued with nerves.

She gingerly takes it from him, her bottom lip jutting out. “No toasting?”

He gives his head a curt shake. “Doesn’t even need it.” Why does he feel like he’s just asked her out and is desperately hanging on a response? Dumb, he thinks.

Linda sinks her teeth into the bread. Bob’s eyes feel way too big for his face as he watches her chew. Slowly, she brings a hand up to cover her mouth, then locks gazes with him. He worries he might accidentally pee a little.

Swallowing, Linda flashes him a megawatt grin. “Oh. Bob. Hon.” She touches his chest. “It’s really good.”

“Right?” Blinding triumph ricochets through him. “Thanks. I kind of can’t believe it came from me.” He picks up his own piece, raising it to his mouth, then pauses. “Is this what giving birth feels like?”

“Yeah, sure,” Linda says around her second bite. “Little more sweat and blood with a human baby, maybe. And you don’t eat it after. It’s been a while.”

Just as Bob’s lips reconnect with his slice, the unmistakable creak of a door opening slams into him. Linda freezes mid-chew.

Gene’s voice, cushioned by a heavy yawn, sidles out from down the hall. “Is that butter I smell…?”

Bob’s eyes bore into Linda’s. “How is he smelling the butter?” he asks frantically, barely above a whisper.

“He’s very talented!” she hisses back, jabbing a finger into his upper arm. “You made him! Get down, get on the floor. I’m going.”

Bob has only seconds to hide the bread and butter before Linda’s pushing him to his knees. “Oh, God. Lin—OW,” he grunts, belly hitting the linoleum. It’s not lost on him that none of this is necessary.

Linda spins on her heel and trots through the doorway, her tone sing-songy as she rushes to intercept their son. “Genie weenie beanie baby,” she calls, “you’re… dreamin’. Oooooohh, I’m the, uh… ghost of Thanksgiving future. You gotta go back to bed. Or the turkey’s gonna be dry.”

“Nooo,” Gene drawls after a sleepy moment. “You’re a mom-poster. Dad’s turkey would never be dry.”

Bob snickers to himself, huffing as he uses the counter to regain his footing. He pulls out his masterpiece and cuts a slice for Gene.

A/N: their love language is shitty puns <3

[infinite-orangepeel]

i’ve had your perv eddie/camboy steve on the brain all day 🫠 thinking about how eddie said he wasn’t very good looking, so i’m imagining steve’s surprise when the virgin creep is?? hot, actually?? and telling eddie that he has a very cute and rideable face

link to pt. 1 of camboy!steve/perv!eddie

first of all, thank you so much for putting these thoughts in my brain 💛 i'm so glad you enjoyed the first part of the au !! :)

second of all, yes. YES. eddie is fucking hot. undeniably so. it's a fact. like we all know this, but he doesn't really realize it yet, himself. he's insecure, awkward, and has next to no experience with anything romantic/sexual.

everything he's learned about sex, he's learned from watching porn, flipping through dirty magazines, and scrolling down to the depths of reddit forums.

everything he's learned about dating/flirting, he's learned from cheesy movies, late-night wikihow searches (i.e. how to get a boy to like you back? or how to kiss with tongue?), and observing from the sidelines when gareth tries to pick up chicks at 'the hideout'.

he's always been a weirdo, an outcast, a nerd. the kid in class that parent's warned their kids to stay away from. he never got invited to birthday parties, asked out to school dances, or heard through the grapevine that some boy or girl thought he was 'cute.'

quite the opposite.

boys made fun of him for having long hair, playing d&d, and doing drama.

girls sprinted in the opposite direction of him for cracking untimely jokes, walking on cafeteria tables, and saving bugs instead of squashing them.

so, eddie, now in his mid-twenties and long since graduated from high-school, doesn't exactly have much reason to think of himself as anything special to look at.

meanwhile, steve harrington has this whole community of people telling him how sexy he is. there isn't a singular inch of his body that hasn't been complimented a million times by strangers on the internet. he knows he's attractive. he knows he's hot. people in real life tell him so, too. they gravitate towards him at the club, kiss his neck and call him 'gorgeous,' ask him for his number when he wakes up hungover and in search of a decent breakfast sandwich.

but he's so fucking bored.

no one takes the time to get to know him past the highlighted hair, pouty lips, and belly ring.

no one asks him about his hobbies or interests outside of swallowing a ten-inch dildo down without gagging.

none of his fans care much about his taste in music, what movies he watches, or the deep-rooted wounds of his past.

so when they do finally meet--face to face over video chat--steve is blown away, because eddie's asking him all about himself (after he gets over the initial shock, of course). he's like a little kid at disneyland who just met mickey mouse for the first time.

he wants to know steve's favorite color, if he likes rollercoasters, what toppings he orders on his pizza.

it's not the deepest conversation, but it's a start and steve finds himself laughing, enjoying, and dreading what will happen once their call is over.

steve also catches onto eddie's insecurities pretty quickly.

when talking about himself, eddie makes constant self-deprecating comments. he's shy, hides behind his dark shadow of curls, and blushes bright red whenever steve says something complimentary.

time is running out. steve has to start his scheduled livestream soon and eddie is so adorable it hurts.

before he can think twice, the words are falling out of his mouth and he's licking over his glossed lips to seal their fate.

'you're so hot. i wanna ride your face until you can't breathe,' he says with a choked little moan....

and that's all i'm saying for now, bc pt. 2 of the full fic is on it's way and i don't want to spoil anything more before then, but this message gave me some great ideas for how i might want it to go so thank you anon !! loved responding to this one 🤗🧡

taglist (if you'd like to be added/removed at any time feel free to dm me or comment to let me know <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @jjoesjonas @anxiouseds @malachitedevil @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @plutoshelm @stevesbipanic @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie

[forasgaard]

Love your work!😍Can i have the will to request a Roxto X reader where he feels like he isn’t good enough, kinda like comparing himself to the other guys in the village esspecily Aonung. The muscle mass, their hunting skills, riding ilus. You didnt know at first, because you found him perfect in every way, his smile, his comforting words and touch, his eyes, hes also very good making braclets out off sheels, so he often makes you cute gifts you love so much. One day you find him crying on the other side of the island when you were out picking some fruits to him and yourself, you rush over to him and comfort him, hugging him and stroke his back. You ask what is wrong but he stays quiet clinging himself on you.

Suddenly he asks you if hes good enough, if hes a good mate, if you truly love him and dont fake it, EVERYTHING! Poor Roxto😭😭🫶🫶

~ First of all, thank you so much, this request was so fun! And such a good idea!

And I am truly sorry - my titles are always so bad. If you have a better title idea, pls comment ~

pairing: Roxto x Y/N

warnings: fluff, angst

words: 1.4k

Masterlist

Not Enough

Happily, you jumped over the woven pathway towards the marui, where your boyfriend Roxto lived with his parents. It was almost the middle of the day and you hadn't seen him even once today.

All the metkayina people were doing their work, cooking, fishing, or all the other duties that were necessary to keep the village running.

Your best friend Tsireya was probably swimming with that new forest boy. They spend a lot of time together lately and you wondered if they were maybe more than just friends. She and her brother Ao'nung tried to teach the Sully kids how to swim and how to live in this maritime world. It must've been a huge culture shock for them to move from the woods there to the ocean.

You arrived at Roxto's marui and went in without a word. His parents knew you since you were little and they weren't even surprised anymore of you'd come to their home whenever you wanted. But the marui was empty, Roxto wasn't home. You frowned and tried to think of a place he could be. Maybe he joined Ao'nung and the Sullys? Roxto and Ao'nung were best friends since childhood, there wasn't a single where they didn't hang out.

So you went to the beach, covered your eyes agains the sun and tried to find them somewhere out the in the waves.

"Hi", a voice startled you. "Eywa", you gasped and turned around. The little Sully girl stood in front of you. What was her name again? Tuk. Weird name. But she was cute.

"What are you looking for?", she asked. "Have you seen Roxto today?"

She shook her head. "No, just Ao'nung."

"Hm" Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. Where could he be?

Then you two heard a movement in the waved behind you and the other Sully girl appeared. Kiri. She was different from the other Omatikaya, but she always seemed very nice.

"Hi Kiri", you greeted. She gave you a small smile. "Hi guys"

"Have you seen Roxto?" you asked.

"Yeah I saw him going that way" Kiri reached out her arm towards the east and pointed in the area where the lagoons lied.

"Thank you!", excited you followed her direction. What did Roxto want in to lagoons? You guys weren't there for years. When you were children, the lagoons were your and Roxto's secret hideout. Every time your parents annoyed you, you would flee into the lagoons and spend your days there, forgetting all the responsibilities and duties. Buy since you guys where grown up, you didn't come there anymore. You never admitted it in front of your boyfriend, but you missed the careless days in the lagoons.

The sun sparkled on the calm sea, some waves splashed upon the rocky cliffs. A soft breeze untangled your curly hair. You gazed upon the scenery. No one was there, only a few ilus swam though the waves. Then you saw a movement on one of the cliffs. Roxto! You started running, the sand squashing beneath your bare feet. He sat on one of the lower cliffs, his legs dangled from the edge. You wanted to call him from afar but stopped immediately. He seemed odd. His eyes gazed emotionless into the distance and his tail, that usually swirled around all the time, lay still next to him.

You furrowed your brow bone. What was wrong with him? Carefully, you climbed up the cliffs and went closer. "Roxto?" Softly you crunched down next to him. He looked up, turned his head towards you, as if his mind had wandered far away. He gave you a small smile but it was lined with worry. "Hey", you said and sat down close to him. You took his hand, let your legs dangle off the cliff, just like his. "Hey, what's wrong yawne?"

Roxto's fell down to your entangled fingers. "It's nothing"

You gave him a look that screamed 'Yeah sure!' He had to laugh. "No its.." He sighed and his eyes wandered back to the ocean. "I sometimes feel like...", he started but shook his head. You slightly squeezed his hand. "What? Hey, you can tell me everything. You know that." You placed a small peck on his curly hair. A smile crawled on his lips. He shrugged and let out a sigh. "It's the others. Ao'nung and my friends."

Your ears twitched back in surprise. "Your friends? What happened? Did they do something?"

Roxto bit his lip. "No, it's just..." He sniffed and looked away. His shoulder started shaking.

"Hey..." Your heart started acing, seeing him like that. "Are you crying?", you asked softly.

"No" he sniffled. You had to chuckle. "Oh yawne", you pulled him into a tight embrace and now his facade fell. He let out a quiet sob and pressed his face on your shoulder. Caring, you stoke over his back, assuring him that you were there.

"Shh it's okay. You're okay", you whispered in his hears. For a few minutes you just held him, comforting him, until his sobs were gone.

"Do you wanna talk about it?", you asked after a while. Without an answer, he moved his head, his forehead pressing against your neck. Your hands gently stroke up to his hairline.

You guys stayed like that and you almost forgot about your question. But suddenly, he blurted out: "He is my best friend!" You saw down to him. "What?"

"Ao'nung. He is just so good in everything he does!" His shoulders humped together. "He is more muscular than me and much better in hunting. And I mean - he was even the first one to ride an ilu, that's not fair! He is always better than me."

Roxto wiped his hand over his face and you gently squeezed his shoulder. "Ne he's not, you're also good at hunting."

He scoffed. "And then the new guys!", he pulled away from your hug and threw his hand into the air. "Ao'nung is always hanging out with them now. As if I don't exist anymore. I am always not good enough for him" He closed his eyes and his face muscles tensed.

"Roxto", you whispered caring. "I didn't know you feel like this, what have you never told me?" He lowered his gaze. The wind ruffled through his curly hair. "I didn't told you because I was afraid you would think the same. That I am not good enough for you" He spoke so quietly that you almost didn't understand him. Your heart ached when he said it. How could he ever think like that!?

You cupped his face with my hands, forced him to look up into your eyes. "Roxto that's stupid.", you began. His eyes flickered back and forth between yours. "You're perfect in every way. How could you ever think that? I don't care what Ao'nung says or the new guys. You're perfect!" You stroke with your thumb over his cheekbone to comfort him.

"I love you. I see you. Don't ever think that will change! Don't ever think less of yourself. You are the most perfect person I know", you whispered. A slight shimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.

"And you're so good at many things! You're a good fisher, and you're brave and you care for the people." Now that you thought about it, all the good things about him blurted out of you. All these little things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. Excitement sparkled in your eyes.

"And you can build things and make things. I love all those shell bracelets that you make me."

A smile crawled onto his lips and he chuckled.

"I could not imagine my life without you, Roxto.", you said. "And I don't want that. And I want you to know what you're not alone. No matter what happens, I will stand by you." Roxto closed his eyes.

His fingers stroke over your shoulders up to your neck. "I love you", he whispered. You closed the distance and gave him a long kiss. He tasted salty like the ocean. When you guys pulled back, you could see the sun sparkling in his eyes.

"All good?" I asked. A warm smile appeared on his face. "I am so glad I have you", he whispered and placed a heartwarming kiss on your lips again. You leaned your forehead against his. The warm wind covered you like a blanket and the sound of the waves adapted to the beats of your hearts.

"And I am so happy I have you"

[andromedasummer]

2/3 of the way through The Whispering Skull. Enjoying it more than I did the first few times I read the books through which has been really nice!

- the group really are just. scared teenagers once carver dies on their doorstep. its pure terror, especially from george, and its an awful thing to go through. especially with how barnes reacts like i dont care that theyre agents these kids havent witnessed a man bleed out on their doorstep before RECOMMEND THEM THERAPY.

- i want the winkmans to explode i hate every time any of them are on screen i hate how casually violent julius winkman is i want to punt his shitty little son. his wife seems like the kind of woman who would confront me in a public bathroom about my gender because of my jaw shape or some shit. nasty fucking people.

- I completely forgot George snuck along the skull to the investigation of Bickerstaffs house. King behaviour. OH LOCKWOOD KNEW. OH LOCKWOOD TOLD HIM TO. Bro Lucy being mad is kinda fair

- Everything about that house is so... gross. It's like all the dissections and taking apart of bodies has become a part of it. All the stripped walls

- Love Kipps' team and the main crew having to work together. Also love Lucy pulling their heads in and stopping them from brawling in an actively haunted house of horror.

- Kat being described as so pallid shes grey from the psychic noise getting to her is interesting because we dont get much description about how Listeners look when theyre using their powers, because of course the Listener of the team is Lucy, and she's the narrator. It's nice insight into how the body changes when in the presence of ghost phenomena compared to those with Sight, who get frozen up and more alert but aren't necessarily as drained like those with Touch and Listening.

- All of them getting squashed in a tiny iron circle so tight George can smell and genuinely compliment Kipps on his cologne is so fucking funny. Same with his genuine "Oh, thanks." Response. They would get along so well if they weren't always at each others throats. I am so badly looking forward to him joining the team.

- Fucking Ned Shaw ruining it all blocking the teams exit starting a fight GOD I'll write my little thingy come the next book after his death but hes such a frustrating character in so many ways it just leaves me sad.

- Quill just booking it leaving his team behind. Christ this team is a mess. Genuinely don't know how he wasn't fired in his last few years at the agency. Like. This is probably how all those kids on his team died. Only reason Bobby didn't croak is cos Lockwood got him the hell out of there.

- WILBERFORCES GHOST IS MY FAV IN THE SERIES like the way its made up of rats.... looks like a victorian gentleman then disintegrates into rats leaving his gnawed bloody bones behind... Fucking COOL AS HELL

- Shaw being made to stand outside L&Cos house. No sleep, takeaway coffee, in tattered clothes. Good. Punishment for being Ultimate Dickhead.

- I can't believe I didn't remember that the first time George sees Flo, he mistakes her for a gnarled, filthy ghost, dragged from some muddy grave, clawing at the window while its broad daylight. And when Flo first sees George, shes gently tapping the window trying to get the teams attention, and watches him jump up, launching his chair in fright, hit the mops behind him and then begin slapping them away thinking them assailants. And then they fall in love. 10/10.

- Lockwood giving Lucy a bloody silver link necklace with a diamond pendant in the middle YOU LIKE HER. YOUUUU LIKE HER

Next up is the Fittes party, robbing the library in the Fittes building and then robbing Winkman's auction all in one night. These 14 yr olds are off the shits.

[castlebyersafterdark]

“Hey, actually - maybe we should put the tinfoil back on and say the Love Island public thirst was a little riff and Finns stepping out with him now to squash all that, drama behind the scenes of their little situationship (I kid, I kid I'm just playing around 🤣🤣) “

well I will say if you (the royal you, not you specifically but like.. anyone) are someone who believes that the songs noah has been uploading to his playlist have like a specific meaning or insight into how he’s feeling in general, then a lot of us noticed there were a LOT of songs about like basically being in a situationship /fwb where you’re all in but the other person doesn’t want to claim you so to speak. Yea it could be a coincidence but there were a lot of songs, including deep cuts not just popular songs, all at once with that very same theme, and it was quite sus for me but who knows.

also during GB finn was all over paul and wanting the hot ones guy to come home with him lmao so who knows what’s going on hahahaha maybe Noah flirting harmlessly with a straight dude was enough to rile someone up lol 😂

I still have not really listened to Noah's playlist - really need to, I'm sure we have some major overlap in music taste (even if I'm not a boy band or Bieber fan hahaha) but this is also interesting!! So juicy to think about what's going on during that film set, behind the scenes tension after hours. Love it.

[usedtobecooler]

(I know you don't write for Steve but this just came to me) What about Steve teaching virgin!reader how to blow virgin!Eddie?!

Pairing | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs, blowjobs, inexperienced virgin reader, inexperienced virgin eddie, experienced pushy steve, awkward boners, bullying, mutual pining.

Word Count | 2.8k

A/N | i've never written for steve before and i took this and ran with it lmao, i hope i did your prompt justice!! if any of you see any mistakes, no you didn't, this wasnt proof read.

Eddie and Steve's relationship had always been odd. You'd noticed it from the first time you'd ever hung out with them, when Robin had dragged you along to meet her friends. You hadn't known her for long, but Robin was loud and unabashed and adamant you had to come hang out with her outside of work.

When you'd first clapped eyes on them both, you noticed the air seemed thick between them. The way they'd bite at each other constantly, bicker and call each other names, the way Steve's eyes would linger on Eddie's lips a second longer than what would be deemed appropriate.

It seemed like a constant fight for dominance, especially when the kids were around. A battle of who Dustin loved more, who Mike looked up to more, who Max harbored a secret 'big brother' liking to more. It was a constant game, and you wondered if they even liked each other.

Then, sometimes, they'd be sweet with each other. Steve would knock Eddie back with a gentle hand when he was about to stumble over a curb, Eddie would grab Steve a burger even when he said he wasn't hungry. Steve would even help him set up the D&D table, he didn't understand what it was about and never played, but he'd help anyway. Even when Eddie bitched that the way he did it was wrong.

So, it was weird. The more time you spent together, the more you found yourself being sucked into the dynamic unwillingly. Robin said she could tell Eddie had a crush on you, which made you blush -- he was cute, and surprisingly really nice despite the hard exterior, but Steve caught onto it pretty quickly and used it to his advantage during their bickering.

You'd walked in on them arguing about you one day, when they clearly thought they were alone. You stood behind the doorway, eavesdropping;

"What would she want with you, Munson? You're a twenty year old virgin, trust me she's not interested."

"Oh yeah? As opposed to what, exactly? The town slut? As if you're any better than me because you've fucked every girl our age."

"At least I didn't jizz in my pants when she gave me a hug."

"That didn't fucking happen, and if you tell her that I'll kill you."

"Ooh, scary."

The admission of Eddie being a virgin was unsurprising, chicks weren't exactly queuing up outside his trailer to fuck him. But, he was pretty, like devastatingly so. Once you got to know him he was a great guy, smarter than he made himself out to be and nothing like the people of Hawkins claimed he was.

The next time you all hung out together, three joints deep and a bottle of scotch being passed around, you made a point of also admitting to being a virgin, to make Eddie feel better. Steve had stared at you open mouthed and flustered, Eddie had choked on his gum, Robin had watched it all unfold and let out a loud barking laugh.

You'd hoped that it would settle Eddie's mind and maybe get Steve to back off and stop hounding him about it, particularly in front of you.

And now, how you ended up in this situation is fully Robin's fault and she'll get told that when you next see her. Her and Nancy had bowed out of your designated movie night ungracefully, claiming to be slammed with babysitting Holly at last minute, but you knew better.

The three of you were crammed up on Steve's bed, and you're wondering why he and Eddie willingly chose to sit next to each other, so close their arms were squashed together and their legs knocked. You were watching The Lost Boys, at Steve's adamance, because apparently it was the horror movie of the year, but you begged to differ, nothing exciting had happened yet.

It gets to a sex scene, and you awkwardly shuffle from where you're sat next to Eddie, cheeks burning hot as you avert your eyes from the screen. Neither of them notice, enamored with seeing a pair of tits on the screen like a pair of twelve year olds.

Your fingers accidentally brush Eddie's own, and you shoot back like you've been scalded, "Sorry, Eddie." You whisper quietly, settling back into your pillow with an inch of space between your bodies for safe measure.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, which catches Steve's attention, making him turn away from the screen to look at you both, eyes flitting back and forth. Then, a scoff escapes him, "Trust you to pop a boner at a pair of fucking tits, Munson."

You furrow your brows, glancing down to where Steve's eyes wandered and oh. Eddie was hard, straining against the loose plaid pyjama pants that he always wore when you guys hung out at night, refusing to buy a pair of sweatpants.

Eddie's face is flushed a dark red, you can see it as clear as day from the glare of Steve's TV, "Fuck off, Harrington. They're a nice pair of tits."

"You're such a virgin, you want some help with that?" Steve wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and you think it's meant to come out as a joke but the way Steve says it seems anything but. He looks at you over Eddie's shoulder, motioning towards him, clamping a hand down on his leg, "Don't you think it's about time he got touched by something that wasn't his right hand?"

You flounder a little, unable to form proper thoughts at what Steve is insinuating, "What do you mean? That I should help him with that? I'm the unwilling third party here, keep me out of your homoerotic bullshit."

"We could both do it, silly. Was it not totally obvious that he's got a massive crush on you?" Steve shrugs like it's nothing, and you feel Eddie tensing up next to you, can see his cock straining further in his pants out of the corner of your eye. In that moment it clicks for you that they're both into this, have probably been waiting a while to find themselves in this situation, with you specifically.

"At this point I think you have a crush on him, you're so obsessed with him it's hilarious." You snark, leaning forward a little until you're crowded back in Eddie's space, hands bumping each others, "What do I get out of this, exactly?"

Steve looks you up and down, a cute grin gracing his face, "Trust me, you can have anything you want."

You chew on the inside of your lip, genuinely thinking about it. Did you really want your first time doing anything sexual with another person to be in a threesome? You clench your thighs at the thought, a wave of heat flushing through your body at the thought of being touched by four hands at once, two mouths.

You wonder how Eddie feels, he's uncharacteristically quiet. You hazard a glance back down, and Eddie has his hand clamped over Steve's own on his thigh. So, yeah, clearly he's into it too.

"Aw, c'mon, don't you want to show the freak a good time?" Steve asks, a smirk overcoming his features — it's disgustingly attractive, a far cry from the usually sweet Steve you knew when Eddie wasn't around, but it did things to you, made your tummy clench.

"Steve, I've never done this either... you know that," You pull your bottom lip with your teeth, chewing anxiously. It's not as if Eddie had anything to compare you to, you were both a pair of bumbling touch starved virgins, but you didn't want it to be bad for him, either.

"Harrington, if you don't stop rubbing my thigh I'm gonna cum in my pants," Eddie's voice cuts through the air, loud enough to knock you out of your trance and making you look up at him, taking in just how disheveled he was already from the merest touch.

"I'll show you how to do it," Steve says, completely ignoring Eddie's protests, never taking his eyes off of you as he brushes his hand up Eddie's thigh even higher, knocking his clothed hard dick with the back of his hand. Eddie hisses, Steve grins and lets out a cackle, "Won't take much, anyway, not if this is anything to go by."

"I am right here," Eddie balks, throwing his hands up in the air. Steve shushes him, shoving into Eddie's space like an eager puppy to grip at his pants and pull them down his thighs.

Of course Eddie doesn't wear underwear under them, why would he? His cock springs out, flushed and hard, the tip a pretty pink colour that makes your mouth water, a small amount of precum blurting out of his slit.

"You guys good with this?" Steve double checks, Eddie whines a little, which is enough of a reply for Steve. You don't even reply, batting Steve out of the way with one hand and wrapping your other one eagerly around the base of Eddie's dick - which to your delight elicits the prettiest little moan from his mouth.

"Eager little thing, isn't she?" Steve smirks at Eddie, which in return has you rolling your eyes and Eddie nodding his head fast. You slide your hand up the length of Eddie's cock slowly, shocked by how your fingers don't even wrap around it fully, all girthy and nice to touch.

"Right, you've not got enough lube for your hand to glide properly, here," Steve leans forward, mouth just mere centimetres away from Eddie's dick, and he lets out a glob of spit onto the head.

"Fuck, what the fuck," Eddie's words comes out erratic, eyes wide as he watches Steve spit all over him without a care in the world, like this was normal and something 'bros' did. Your hand squeezes the base of his cock a little to focus his attention back on you, hand sliding up to rub in the mess of Steve's spit and get him all nice and wet.

"There you go, see? Much easier." Steve's cocky demeanor is starting to diminish, you can tell by the way his voice comes out softer as he watches your skin connect with Eddie's, the slick slide of your fist up and down his cock. You feel Steve's large hand ghost over your lower back, under your shirt. You gasp quietly at the touch, the burning heat of his skin on yours making you shiver.

"Does this feel okay?" You ask Eddie quietly, ignoring what Steve just said because what the fuck would he know, it's not his dick being touched.

"Feels good, sweetheart, cross my heart." Eddie's cheeks are tinged rouge red, neck veins popping a little as he clearly struggles not to blow his load. You can see Steve looking back and forth between you both with curious eyes, smile still on his face, clearly enjoying watching a pair of virgins going at it like a creep.

"Do you want me to use my mouth?" You ask tentatively, cocking your head to the side as you keep eye contact with Eddie to try and gauge how he feels. It's meant to be innocent, comes out dirty. Dirty enough that Steve's hand moves to grip at your waist slightly, a soft sigh escaping him.

"You'd like that, right Eddie?" Steve's smile is sickly sweet, but you can tell he's starting to fold because he's using Eddie's real name, not his last name or a stupid nickname. Eddie nods silently, eyes shutting and head thumping back against Steve's plush headboard.

You slide down the bed quietly, shuffling until you're nestled in between Eddie's spread legs at an angle that meant you could just lean forward and slide your mouth over his length, "Tell me what to do then, genius."

"Take your hand off him, I'll do that, you just put your pretty mouth to use," Steve's slender fingers move yours out of the way until you're releasing Eddie's cock, his own large hand wrapping around the base and squeezing, making Eddie whimper.

Steve guides Eddie's dick over to rub the tip over your closed lips, smearing precum all over them. Your tummy clenches, ridiculously turned on by what you're doing, unable to stop your mind racing. You feel dizzy, like this is a dream you'll wake up from any moment.

"What're you waiting for? Wrap your lips around the head, give it a try." Steve's demanding, his voice firm with you, so you lean down and close the distance, opening your lips and sinking down onto the head, hot mouth engulfing Eddie's cock.

"Jesus Christ, fuck," Eddie cries out, can't help but open his eyes to look at you, has to see what you're both doing. The sight of Steve's massive fist around his cock, jerking it lightly into your mouth, you sucking and licking at him - he's teetering on the edge dangerously fast.

"Feels good, right?" Steve chuckles a little, looking between where his fist and your mouth meet and Eddie's blown out, wide eyes, "She didn't even need any help, knew just what do on her own like a good girl."

You and Eddie both moan in unison, the vibration on Eddie's cock enough to have his hips bucking up wildly, which in turn causes Steve to reach his free hand out and push him down onto the bed harshly, "Don't cum yet, Munson. Don't be a little bitch."

Eddie chokes out a little sob, whining at Steve being mean to him. It makes his body run hot, the coil in his tummy tighten. You glance up at him, mouth still full of his cock, just to make sure he's okay, and the bit of eye contact has Eddie losing it.

"Sorry, fuck, sorry, I'm cumming," Eddie grips at a chunk of Steve's meaty thigh and he comes with an embarrassingly loud yelp, Steve's hand tightening as he jerks Eddie's cock into your open, willing mouth, swallowing his release down like you'd done it a million times before.

You kitten lick at the head until Eddie shakes with sensitivity, popping off with a little grin, "You good? Back down to earth yet?"

Eddie smiles dumbly, saluting at you with two fingers, body completely sagged into Steve's plush sheets, flaccid cock still out, "Alive but barely."

You clamber up the bed, the sudden urge to kiss him overtaking your body. You fist a hand in his messy curls, pulling him up to kiss you. Eddie wraps an arm around your back, kissing you all sloppy, teeth and tongue, to an outsider it probably looked gross, but it was so hot to you that you wanted to cry.

You break apart to catch a breath, forehead to forehead with wild eyes and stupid little smiles on your faces. You ache with how much you like Eddie, a love for him overtaking your whole body. Steve clears his throat at your side, pulling you out of your trance, making you turn to look at him.

He's got a firm hand gripped into the arm of Eddie's shirt, you can see his own cock tenting in his loose sweatpants and God, it's big and intimidating, even through his clothes.

"Don't be greedy, share it with me," Steve closes the space between you both and smashes his lips onto yours, licking into your mouth expertly to swipe over your tongue. You moan into the kiss, cunt clenching at being used in this way. He kisses more firmly than Eddie, more sure of himself, it's nice in a different way.

Just as you're getting lost in it Steve pulls away, a whine dying in your throat when you open your eyes to see his face gliding closer to Eddie's, and then they're kissing too. Steve grapples for your waist with closed eyes, tugging you even closer to them both.

They're animalistic with each other, like they're both angry and filled with pent up rage. Eddie grips a hand in Steve's mane of hair, has him groaning into the kiss that's all teeth and grunting. You watch through hooded eyes, unable to take your gaze away from them, wetness pooling in your pretty underwear at the sight of them both.

A whine escapes you, the noise filling the air and cutting off their kiss, both of them looking at you with differing gazes. Steve looks like he wants to pin you down and fuck you into oblivion, Eddie looks like he's in love. Steve sits up a little, grabbing at you and Eddie with every free bit of his big hands, fingers roaming unabashedly.

Steve glances at you both, a smirk back to gracing his features, "If you think I'm done with you two yet, you're sorely mistaken."

[roscgcld]

DAYDREAMING!AU || new reality

;request: rn i’m obsessed with your writing & the daydreaming!reader<33 but i also love angst so what would happen if she ended up getting really hurt protecting another student - hope that wasn’t too weird.. again, i love your writing !!

note: ahaha, i am glad that a lot of people enjoy my daydreaming!reader works; she is also one of my babies as well >< and originally i wasn't going to do this cause i had no idea on what to write - but i had managed to layout a rocky plan before i got some bursts of inspiration lol. ended up becoming too loud though ><” I am sorry for that~

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

“There is a chance that she will never wake up from this.”

Shoko gave the others in the room a concerned glance as she glanced up from her tablet, hating how silent it was besides the quiet beeping of the machines around the occupied bed. Laying in the bed was Y/N, a breathing tube carefully inserted into her mouth with the ventilator beside her being the only thing that’s keeping her oxygen levels normal. “The amount of damage she took was quite large. And even though she had managed to regulate quite a strong barrier of Curse Energy around her at all times, it wasn’t enough to brace her for the impact of her being slammed into the build.”

The mission shouldn’t have ended this way - the first and second year students were sent on a mission to deal with a few Finger Bearers that had appeared in the city due to the lack of sorcerers on duty at the time. They were under the care of a few First Grade sorcerers, all hand-picked by Yaga-sensei to ensure the safety of the kids.

However, things rarely go to plan in the jujutsu world.

Yaga-sensei sighs softly as he leans back into his seat, his eyes glancing over at his student that was clearly battling to stay alive. Guilt started to eat him from the inside out, since this was technically his fault. Sure, everyone knows that there is no way that you can go on a mission without enduring some casualties. But the fact is that this was not what he had expected for the outcome to be.. “I am going to kill them myself.”

“G-Gojo-san!” Ijichi hissed out as he glances over at the white haired shaman in the room with wide eyes, the man having been leaning against the wall opposite from the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tipped forward with an almost too casual expression on his face, yet anyone can tell the barely suppressed anger that lurked underneath. An anger that was only a few moments away from exploding. “You can’t - don’t say things like that!”

“And you expect me to sit back as they failed to save the children?” Gojo asks in a loud voice, effectively squashing whatever confidence Ijichi had built up inside of him. The hand that was resting arm tightened, the veins at the back of his pale hands started to protrude out as Gojo’s anger started to show itself. “I need a good explanation on how their incompetency put our student in this state. 5 First Grades against 3 Special Grade Curses? With 7 talented students by their side and they still can’t handle it? Give me a fucking break.”

“Not everyone can be like you, Satoru.” Yaga-sensei finally mumbles out as he rests his forehead into his hand, fingers pinching at the space between his eyes tiredly. “If anything, it was my fault. I had underestimated the brains of the Finger Bearers, and because of that, all my calculations were wrong. I put retrieving the fingers over numbers. So if you want to find someone to be angry to, the blame is on me.”

The room went quiet after Yaga’s explanation, both Ijichi and Shoko sharing a caution look before casting a glance over at the blindfolded man. After a few tensed moments Gojo pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the hospital room without another word, closing the door behind him quietly; a stark contrast to his usual habit of either slamming the shoji doors too hard, or leaving it open completely.

That out of character move definitely had Shoko sighing in concern. “That idiot...I hope he’s not going to do anything stupid.” She mumbles softly before she turned back to face the young girl laying on the bed, quietly reaching over to brush her fingers through the soft strands that had fallen over Y/N sleeping face. “You better wake up soon, sweetheart...I worry that this might finally push him over the edge.”

Occupying each seat outside of the small waiting area in the infirmary were the other students; wounds bandaged, yet their anxiety was palpable in the air. They had heard what had happened, yet were sheild by the other sorcerers who had called for back-up. Last they heard of Y/N was a scream before what sounded like a building collasping. “Do you think Y/N-senpai is alright?”

Yuji was the first one who dared to break the silence, glancing up from his clenched hands before him to glance at the others. “I mean...it must have been bad, since she was charted off as soon as back up arrived.” Yuji mutters softly as he tightened his fingers together, trying to stop them from shaking. He felt awful - if only he had spared a few seconds to glance over at his senpai, maybe she wouldn’t be in the condition she’s in now. “It’s not every day you’re rushed straight to Ieiri-sensei’s office...”

“...If there is one idiot who can pull through, it’ll be her,” Maki mumbles out quietly after awhile, looking away from her kouhai to stare down at the wooden floors of the building they were in. “Even if it’s bad, she always pulls through it...there is no reason why she can’t do it this time.” She mutters softly just as a pair of footsteps came towards them, causing everyone to look up at the approaching figure. 

Gojo paused when he spotted the others, the question they wanted to ask was clear as day. And for once, Gojo wished that he was able to reassure them like he always does. For him to be able to put up the act that everything was alright, that everyone will be okay. 

But he knew that it’ll do no justice if he did. “Is she...is she alright?”

The question that fell from Yuta’s mouth was left hanging in the air for a few moments, the sliver of hope they had moments ago slowly dimming with each passing moment. Quietly Gojo slipped his hands into his pockets, his blindfolded eyes downcast; too scared to see their reactions. For once, he wished that he was not the one to break the news to the students. “Y/N-chan...might not recovery from this.”

His words sent shock waves through the students, yet he balled his fists up in his pockets to continue with what he had to say. “She hit her head too hard...and if she was not subconsciously protecting herself with Cursed Energy all the time, the impact would have caused her skull to crack in two on impact. But it still took a lot out of her person, and Shoko said that-”

The sound of a metal chair being thrown backwards echoed across the room, causing Gojo to look up just in time to see Yuta standing up with wide eyes as he hastily tried to calm his friend. “Maki, you need to calm down.” He tried to reason with the girl, who had her backed turn to the group, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. “This isn’t your fault-” Yuta tried to reason, only to pause when Maki just silently started to walk away, leaving with no more but a loud slam of the main door that echoed down the hallway once more. 

For a few moments no one said anything else, yet the first one to move was Megumi; who turned to face his sensei. “Can we visit her?” He mumbled out quietly, to which Gojo just glanced over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Usually people talk to someone who is in a coma. Might jolt them awake or give them encouragement to fight harder...I am sure Y/N-senpai will get lonely if no one visited her..”

“Why not?” Gojo said after a few moments of thought, giving his students what he hope was a reassuring smile as he turns a little; nodding down the hallway. “Shoko managed to stabalise her condition. Just make sure to sanatise your hands at the door.”

Quietly the group of students followed behind their silent sensei, keeping close to one another as if they were trying to give each other comfort. The walk to the room seemed too far, the door seeming to grow further and further away from them with each step. It was if it was trying to stop them from seeing the truth; yet they didn’t stop. Yet soon they found themselves standing before the smooth door; the single grey name plaque with her name written in black resting in the silver plaque holder. “Right, here we are.”

After everyone was handed a blob of hand sanitiser and had wiped it onto their skin, the small group entered after a quiet knock to the door. “Y/N-chan, I’ve returned with the others...minus one, that is.” Gojo hummed out in delight as he made his way towards the bed, a silent gesture for the others to do the same. “You know Maki-chan though. Once she finishes beating herself up, she’ll come running back. She always does~”

Quietly the others made their way into the room, eyes scanning over the beeping machines and many wires connected to the sleeping girl. “Y/N...senpai..” Nobara mumbles out in shock, her eyes resting the ventilator; not believing that a girl that was bounding about the college earlier today now needed help to do something as simple as breathing. “No way...there is...”

A warm hand rest on the top of her head, Megumi quietly giving her a form of comfort whilst his wide eyes stared at the bed before him in shock. No one dared take a step forward, like they were standing on the other side of a fragile glass bridge that was moments away from breaking. “Y/N..”

Gojo felt the hole started to eat inside of him as he watches how his students were staring at their fellow classmate in shock. Quietly he settled down in the only seat at the corner of the room, watching from the shadows at how the others will react to seeing her in such a state. The first person to snap out of it was Yuta, who quietly places a hand on Toge’s shoulders before giving it a light squeeze. “Shall we go and say hello?” 

Quietly Yuta made his way towards the bed, only to hesitate one step away from grabbing onto her hand. He stared at the frail hand, a simple IV needle carefully taped on the back of her palm for a few moments; a clear look of uncertainty on his face. Yet he took a deep breath, and with a trembling hand, carefully took Y/N’s cold hand in his. “I...Hi, Y/N...” Yuta mumbles quietly into the hospital room, voice barely heard over the constant beeping of the heart monitor. “Sorry...we took awhile to visit...and sorry that Maki isn’t here...I am sure she’ll drop by when she is ready though.”

The only response he got was the sound of the steady beep of the heart monitor, to which he just tighten his grip ever so slightly on Y/N’s unmoving hand. He could hear the soft giggle that Y/N would let out at his words, and if he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he hears her voice bouncing around inside his head.

“It’s alright, Yuta-san! I am sure you were busy before that. And I know Maki-chan will come after you leave - but you didn’t hear that secret from me~”

The silence of the hospital room made Yuta sick to the stomach, the idea that he might never hear Y/N’s voice again started to really sink in. Her usually warm and familiar touch felt cold and lifeless, causing Yuta to carefully tuck her hand underneath her hospital blanket; as if he was trying to warm it up once more. “I...I am going to go grab her favourite stuffed animal from her room. I am sure she’d love to have something of comfort whilst she’s here...if you’ll excuse me.”

Without another word Yuta just walked out of the room quietly, Yuji being the only one turning to watch his senpai leave with a look of concern. Out of everyone Yuji was definitely the one who seemed to be able to hold himself together the most, so it was no surprise when he was the one that went next. “Yo, Y/N-senpai,” Yuji greeted quietly as he walked towards the hospital bed, easily dodging all the wires and such. After all, this wasn’t his first time visiting someone he cares for in the hospital. “Can you hear me? I hope you can - or not Fushiguro might lecture me for being loud.”

The other sorcerer couldn’t even find his voice whilst Yuji continues on; his voice soft yet soothing as he looks down at his senpai with nothing more but a soft smile. “I know you’re trying your hardest go come back to us, and you’d probably tell us that we’re not the ones to blame. That you’re a big girl now, and things like this happen all the time.” Yuji continues, the only indication to his change of mood was the slight quiver that was hard to hide. Yet Yuji continued on anyway. “I hope you know we miss you...and we’re worried sick that you’re in the state you are now. But I know that you need some time to rest up, and soon you’ll be back on your feet again, right? ‘Cause..b-because that’s how you’ve always been.”

Silence enveloped the room once more, with Yuji just not sure on what else to say to her as he stared at her pale face. The other three in the room sort of just huddled together, all of them unsure of what to say to her. They weren’t the best with emotional words - beside Toge, who usually doesn’t use words at all - so asking them to keep their tone in check whilst referring to their unconscious classmate is a little too much for them.

So after awhile Yuji decided to lead them out of the hospital room, giving Gojo a parting smile before he closes the door behind him. Leaving him alone as he stared at the slumbering figure of his student as he rests his elbows on his parted knees. Quietly he rests his head in his hands, eyes closed as he tried to push back the light migraine that was coming on. He hates that it is his duty to break the news to the others - her parents, her elders. Heck, he has to give a call to Nanami and Utahime to tell them the bad news. 

If it was anything else, he wound be more than excited to blow their phones up. But this? He wishes that the duty was handed to someone else - because he himself doesn’t even believe that this was happening in the first place. 

He wishes that this was all just a terrible nightmare.

Maki quietly pushed the window open as she climbed in from the roof, the doors of halls of the infirmary long going silent; cicadas chirping away in the night sky. Maki quietly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, eyes racking over Y/N’s sleeping form, to the amount of machines that were working by her side to make sure that she’s alive. “Hey, idiot...I’ve arrived.”

Quietly she made her way towards Y/N’s bedside, her eyes clouding over with an unreadable emotion. If she was being honest, she didn’t know how to react right now. On one hand, she was pissed - she is pissed off because she could have done something to help Y/N. Maybe if she was just faster, just a bit more aware, maybe if she was training to try harder. Maybe if she can just try harder-

A loud slap sounded across the room, Maki having pulled her hand out of her pocket to slap across her cheek hard to snap out of the spiraling thoughts. The burning sting on her cheek reminded her to return to reality before she started to trash the room out of anger, something that she and Y/N had been working on for some time now. Y/N would always say, “You should never turn to anger and violence to deal with your issues!”

Maki wonders what her reaction would be if she had saw Maki slapping herself so hard that there was a light handprint on the side of her cheek. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

With a tired sigh Maki settled down in the seat that Gojo had occupied earlier in the day, keeping her eyes on the steady heart monitor; her eyes following the spike that indicates the faint heartbeat of Y/N. “Who the hell knew that it took an entire building to really get you hurt.” Maki sigh as she tore her eyes away from the screen, looking down at her boots quietly; examining all the scuffs and scratches on marring the smooth leather. “Call me stupid, but I really thought that it’d take more than that. Remember when you had jumped out the window of the 10th floor and left with no more but a bruise? You were crying about it ‘cause you couldn’t wear dresses for about 2 weeks.”

Maki let out a tired laugh at the memory of finding Yuta trying to reassure a crying Y/N when she found the bruise on her knee; Yuta just patting her head with the most amused look on his face whilst she cried her eyes out at the idea that she can’t wear her cute dresses until it cleared up. “Imagine what will happen when you wake up from this? God, that is going to be a pain.”

A soft sigh left Maki’s lips as she glances over at the stuffed sheep that Yuta had brought from her room; along with a few more random stuffed animals that surrounded her head like a halo. This caused her to smile sadly as she rests her head on her shoulder, watching her for a few minutes without saying anything. Maki had always been bad with words and emotions; with all the things she had gone through when she was younger. Wording how she feels and emotions are not Maki’s favourite thing to deal with, since she wants to keep this badass, strong woman front she has on all the time to prove something to her elders.

“You better wake up from this, or not I am going to kick your ass.” Maki mutters after a few moments, getting up with a tired sigh before she casts her another glance at Y/N. Without missing a beat, she reaches over to brush strands of hair away from her face, warm hand resting on her head for a few moments before she places a few parting pats on her head; something she had always done when she needs to leave for a mission or a meeting outside of school. 

“‘Night, brat. Wake up soon, okay?” Maki mutters, and with a final sigh she made her way towards the window she climbed in once more, quietly shutting it behind her after she hauled herself over the railing. It was only in the dead of the night that Maki quietly lets her tears fall, biting her lip hard to stop whatever sounds that were threatening to leave her lips. 

Because at the end of the day she is stubborn, and refuses to believe that this might be her new reality.

A week had passed since the day that the others found out that Y/N had fallen into a coma of a sorts, and everyone would visit at least once just to see if there is any sight of change. That there might be a sign that she was going to wake up soon. And there were slight changes; a few days after she had been admitted she was allowed to get off the ventilator and rely on oxygen instead. But she was still in bad shape.

Nanami tries to make time to drop by to visit as well, coming over to quietly read pages of the book that he was reading. Whenever Y/N was sick, she would call Nanami over the phone and ask if the man can read to her; something about how she finds comfort in his voice that puts her at ease. And since Ieiri had encouraged them to talk to her more for stimulation, Nanami takes the time to read to her after a long day of work. It brought him some comfort as well, listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the humming of the other machines around her.

Gojo would sometimes drop by as well, only to berate Nanami for his ‘boring’ book choices; and an unconscious Y/N has to endure two adults arguing about book choices and how Gojo’s titles are definitely not appropriate to even bring onto school grounds.

Besides the occasional argument, sometimes Gojo will prop his phone up against a vase of flowers that Yuji brings so that Utahime can FaceTime him; the students from the Kyoto side being able to see and talk to the slumbering Y/N. For the most part, everyone was shocked that she was in the state she was in; having never expected such a bright and talkative person can fall into such a state.

The most distraught one was definitely Todo, who had almost jumped out of his seat and make a full on dash towards Tokyo if it wasn’t for Noritoshi and Mai joining together to restrain the man, along with Principal Gakuganji threating to hold him back from their planned trip to Tokyo the following week that had him calming down.

But barely - the man is still more than ready to just up and run across the country just so he can be closer to his ‘beloved Y/N-chan’.

Every day, without fail, Toge will come into her hospital room with a new accessory to pull her hair back into; carefully brushing her hair out and applying dry shampoo so it wasn’t greasy to the touch. Once he was satisifed he’d carefully style her hair back so it didn’t get in the way of her checkups, taking his time with everything so he gets to spend more time with her. He doesn’t say much, he usually finds that doesn’t whenever he is around her; so he takes his time when he does her hair in hopes that she can feel that he is there for her.

Yuta and Megumi will find time after classes to go and visit her together, telling her about everything that had happened whilst she is asleep. Sometimes Nobara will visit as well, must for the most time she’d come alone in the evening after dinner to just rant to her about everything that she found annoying that happened over the day. Nobara usually stay until Ieiri comes to kick her out, hoping that Maki might come in as well to visit Y/N.

But Maki never does - yet everyone knows that Maki finds the time in her day to go and visit her like everyone else. However, no one dared to ask her how or when she does it. They’ve accepted that it was probably a sensitive subject to her, and that it’s off limits to ask her unless you want her to ignore you for the rest of the day. Gojo had learnt it the hard way when he had teased her, only to be thrown out the window of their classroom by an annoyed Maki.

Even his Infinity is no match for that woman’s wrath.

Days soon led into weeks, with slow but not so encouraging signs of improvement from the young girl. The elders of her clan and her parents had visited the college as soon as they can, and had kept tabs with every single thing that is going on with her. There was no denying the fear of her suddenly relapsing once more, and soon it will become too much for her parents to bear. The idea of keeping Y/N around, knowing that she is in so much pain, just for their selfish want of keeping her alive was a reality they want to avoid. 

The once vibrant and lively campus soon turned gloomy; the hallways of the school quiet without the familiar sound of bunny-themed slippers running across its worn-out flooring. The chime of a familiar giggle was missing in the air, along with a dreamy voice that just never seems to stop; no matter what time of the day it is. There were days where the others forget that Y/N was not there to make dinner for the night, or she wasn’t there when they want to ask her opinion about something. Her room, which once served as a sanctuary for the students who can’t sleep at night, now became too painful to even walk past on certain days.

Yet everyone tried their hardest to go on with their days, knowing that it was what Y/N wanted them to do. If they were to allow their grief to consume them whole, they knew the delicate routine they had rebuilt would crumble before them. And if there is one thing they can do to keep Y/N’s memory alive, is to live their lives to the fullest. To try and cherish each and every day, no matter how painful reality is without her by their side.

They have to try, for her sake.

It wasn’t until a month passed when Yuta had came running into the lunch hall, looking like he had seen a ghost as he tried to catch his breath. “Okkotsu-senpai?” Megumi asks in concern as he looks over at the older man, putting his tray down to try and give his panting senpai a hand. “Are you-” He asked, only to have Yuta put a hand up to stop him as he took a few deep gulps of air.

“A-Awake...Y/N...Y/N is awake.”

Within a few seconds the students were sprinting across campus, none of them believing what Yuta had said until they have see it for themselves. What is usually a 10 minute walk from the lunch hall took about four minutes with them sprinting, possibly annoying half of the cleaners of the school that they were breaking the no running rule. Yet they didn’t stop even at their annoyed outcries, the simple wooden door of the infirmary almost coming off its hinges at how hard Maki had thrown it open.

Maki was the one who pushed the hospital room door open, causing the people in the room to jump in shock. Including Y/N, who had let out a soft squeak of shock; her voice hoarse from not using it for so long. The others blinked in shock at the sight of Y/N’s bright eyes meeting theirs at the doorway, ones that blinked before she gave them the biggest smile she can muster.

“H-Hi.” Y/N mumbles softly, to which Nanami just gave her a rare smile as he gently rubs her back, Gojo smirking softly as he recorded the reactions of the others by the door. He had gotten over the shock a few moments ago. “Don’t strain yourself, Y/N-chan. Remember what Ieiri-sensei said about straining your voice.” The blonde man hummed before he turned his blue eyes over at the shocked students as well. “And that goes to you too. If you all stress her out, I am not against tossing you all out.”

Y/N made a noise and turned to try and reassure the older man, not noticing how the others were staring at her in shock. The first person to move was Maki, whose eyes look suspicious wet as she stormed into the room. “I am going to kill you.” She growled out loudly, to which Y/N jumped before she held her arms out for protection; feeling a shiver of fear go up her spine. Yet before she can make a move to stop her, Maki suddenly wrapped her up in a hug, the arms that Y/N held out to try and pacify her angry classmate freezing from the unnatural reaction from Maki.

Y/N blinks for a few moments before she smiles softly and wraps Maki up in her arms as well, gently patting her head as Maki silently wets her shoulder with her tears. “I know.” Y/N mumbles out softly before her eyes met the others, giving them a soft smile as she gently gestures to the others to enter her room. Soon there was just a huge ball of crying teenagers hugging one another on Y/N’s hospital bed; Gojo and Nanami having moved aside to give them more space for their reunion as they watched on from the other side of the room. “Should we stop them?”

“Nah, we might get murdered if we try.” Gojo said with a hum as he grins over the sound of intelligible crying, looking over at Nanami who had a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight. “Besides, this is great content. I never had a video of Maki crying before.” Gojo admitted, to which Nanami’s smile dropped as he looked over at him in annoyance. 

“Why am I not surprised at all?”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your cat turns into a man. No, not, your cat was always a man and turned back into a man. Your actual cat turns into an actual man and neither you or your cat (man? cat-man?) have any idea why he's human now. Also, he's naked, so that’s a problem. Also, he’s kind of attractive. Yikes.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi still thinks he’s a cat; mentions of smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral (choking on a dick, but not in a sexy way), doggy, spanking, wall-fucking, unintentional??? voyeurism); non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook and you being mad horny for him, what’s new; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? you decide

an anon asked for cat hybrid Yoongi, although instead this is some voodoo witch doctor shit, whoops yes, I do reference BT21, Bob Ross, the lady-pointing-to-the-cat-accusingly meme, list goes on... and there is a cameo of 2021 Seasons Greetings Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin XD

--

Your lungs were being crushed.

You were bundled in your duvet, wrapped like a mint-colored burrito, on your back, head nestled comfortably in your memory foam pillow. Warm, cozy, snuggly. All things considered, a comfortable position. So comfortable that you were blessedly asleep for many hours until your lungs started getting crushed.

You cracked one eye open.

A giant tuxedo fluffball was causing this slow and painful death.

“Get off.”

You glared with slitted eyes, voice cracking from sleep. The fluffball did not move. Velvety, pointed black ears flicked back and forth. The little pink nostrils flared a bit, breathing evenly and contentedly. At least one of you was. You grunted in irritation. The minty-green eyes opened, black slits for pupils.

“I’m going to die.”

Your cat meowed in your face.

“Shut the fuck up. Get off.”

He yawned.

You narrowed your eyes and lips into lines. Stared at your insufferable, not-so-subtle tuxedo cat that was killing his owner. How long had he and his seven-kilogram ass been sitting on your tits? Too long because your sternum was already aching. You rolled over and he gave you a disgruntled meow as he tumbled off. You pulled your arms out and gave him a soft scratch behind his ears before reaching around to his white belly and patting his chest. He started purring, rolling to his side, white sock-like paws sticking up.

“Ugh, my chest hurts, Shooks. You’re a dick.”

Your cat gave zero fucks.

You were still petting him. Sigh.

“I’m getting up,” you announced to no one except your cat.

You tugged yourself out of your comfy, mint-colored duvet and winced, rubbing your breastbone. Did you buy this bedding set because it reminded you of your cat’s eye color? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In your defense, you hadn’t meant to become a crazy cat lady. You were innocently walking on the street when the tuxedo-patterned cat started following you. A large cat with big minty eyes surrounded by black fur like black bangs. White snout and jaw, pink nose, and a raspy meow. The tuxedo pattern was pretty similar to an actual suit, with a white chest and black fur over its back and limbs. White, sock-like paws, on the bigger side. Cute pink toe beans too. At the time, he was skinny and dirty, no collar around his neck, but you could tell he was long-limbed. He had a cut on his right eye, caked with blood.

“You alright, little guy?”

The cat seemed to scoff at you disapprovingly, as if to say, do I seem like a little guy to you?

“I guess you’re not a little guy. You have an owner?”

The cat’s response was headbutting your calf.

You took him back to your apartment and then it was doomed.

Why was his name Shooks? Well, actually, your cat’s name was Shooky, and it was because you tried many names to get him to respond to you – including, but not limited to, “you little shit” – and he responded to none of them except Shooky. For some reason, Shooky made him turn his black-and-white face around and look at you.

Shooky it was.

The first encounter was cute, but after you had fed him and given him a few pats, you gave him a good, hard taste of reality. Shooky was very upset about getting a bath for the first time. There had been a lot of angry meowing, although thankfully he hadn’t swiped at you very much. As soon as you got mostly undressed and sat in the bath with him, he seemed to relent. Maybe it was because you closed the glass door and he couldn’t leave.

“Do you see how dirty you are? You need a bath.”

He gave you a disapproving meow.

“Look, I even bought pet shampoo and you’ll get treats after. Come on, you.”

He was very displeased.

In any case, Shooky was now your primary companion, a large, long-limbed, fluffy tuxedo cat, following you around as you brushed your teeth and made breakfast, his new black collar jingling with a tiny silver bell. Every morning, you handed him his dry food first – he chomped down immediately – and made yourself some breakfast as he ate. Somehow your life now revolved around him, spending time looking up the best cat food (without paying an arm and a leg, you weren’t a sugar momma), making sure he was brushed (his hair got everywhere), telling everyone you needed to get home because you couldn’t miss his dinnertime (if you were a second late opening the door, Shooky would start meowing very exaggeratedly, like he was dying, what a drama queen). Was he annoying? Yes. Was he the best cuddle buddy? Also, yes. Kind of like a boyfriend, but better, because Shooky didn’t talk back.

You arranged your small dishes on the table. Tofu. Eggs. Pickled squash. Just enough for one. You sat down, holding your bowl of steamed rice.

A tuxedo furball jumped onto the table, licking his chops.

“Look here, this isn’t for you. Shoo.”

He settled onto the tabletop and stared at you as you ate.

Sigh.

-

Live with a cat was pretty similar to life without one.

Except for that weird habit Shooky had of sitting on your bathroom rug when you got out of the shower, scaring the shit out of you the first time. You lived alone, so you didn’t really bother closing doors, but you considered changing that. But it was just a cat. Also, he walked in here of his own volition. Not your fault if his eyes were scarred.

Shooky was a normal cat, but also a weird cat.

He slept a lot. Normal. He bit his paws sometimes. Weird. You figured maybe it was his nails, so you learned to trim them and he seemed better about it, but sometimes when he was stressed, you would notice fur missing from his little white socks. A lot of things could stress a cat. The internet taught you that. You brought him toys and played with him, but mostly he seemed to want you to sit down so he could plant himself in your lap. This make life rather difficult, so you decided it was time to invest in Netflix so you could at least use your time wisely.

This was for your cat, remember.

Yes, binging shows on Netflix was for your cat.

The weirdest thing was…

Shooky was always stressed when you invited a man into your home.

Maybe he didn’t like men. Something in his past, maybe? Could be. Come to think of it, did you even like men? That was a question for another day, but in any case, your cat always gave you this accusing stare when you brought a guy over, no matter how nice the guy was, even if the guy petted him very gently. Shooky never attacked them. He just glared at you like you had betrayed him somehow. How could that be?

What a needy drama queen.

You figured, eh, it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to sabotage your chances of finding true love and all that stuff. 

Who are we kidding?

You’d settle for a simple good dicking.

Well, there was that one time.

That time you were in the middle of giving a guy a blowjob. It was going great. You were naked, he was naked, he had a tattooed arm – hot as fuck – and he was very vocally enjoying your tongue technology. Hey, you didn’t have many talents, but you had that going for you. Even if a guy was mildly apprehensive about banging you, once you got your mouth on his dick, it was game over. You mentally patted yourself on the back for doing such a good job.

Positive reinforcement, right?

Annnnnnnd then…

Your cat jumped onto your back and made you choke on his dick.

“Urk!”

“Oh, fu–”

All seven kilos right between your shoulder blades. Oof.

“Are you okay?” He was half-worried, half-laughing, and Shooky was climbing up your back, pressing onto your neck, one paw on the nape, trying to murder you by dick suffocation. It took both of you to lift you off the dick – sad – and Shooky left a few scratches on your neck, as if to communicate his distaste of your infidelity. The guy was really nice about it. Actually, he found it hilarious. You scowled at Shooky and he gave you that deadpan stare that all cats seemed to have. The rest of the night was hot and heavy like you wanted and you even eventually got to complete said blowjob, which brightened your spirits.

It was a little disorienting that your cat was watching you from his cat tree the entire time.

Creep.

Honestly, you would have kept dating that guy if he didn’t move to a different city. Sigh.

Eventually, you stopped bringing men over.

One, because Shooky. Two, because worldwide pandemic.

Sigh.

-

The night that changed everything was ordinary.

Too ordinary.

You were passed out on the couch, halfway into season six of American Horror Story, somewhat peeved because you wanted to watch the other seasons, but geez, season five had such a poor story and hard focus on gore that it slightly turned you off. That it was a lot, even for you. Season six was better, but slow. The first four seasons had really hooked you and the idea of them all being connected? Nutty. You wanted to watch all of it.

Idea of season five? Awesome.

Lady Gaga? Yeah, why not, you’d be seduced.

Execution? Eh… could be better.

Shooky hadn’t watched any of it. He just slept in your lap.

Subtitles really helped you out here. You didn’t understand how the English-speaking audience could hear the whispering parts, but maybe that was because your English was garbage. You could read better than listen.

At the moment, you weren’t reading shit.

You were half-tucked in a fuzzy black blanket with a tuxedo cat pattern. Did you see the tuxedo cat pattern and buy it immediately? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In any case, your head was cocked at an awkward angle on the couch cushion and your mouth was open, snoring away. Attractive. You were wearing mint-colored, striped pajamas, one arm hanging off the couch and the other on Shooky’s furry butt, because you had been petting him.

Netflix was doing that annoying thing where it was asking you if you were still watching or not.

You couldn’t respond.

Shooky was awake.

Your cat was staring at your laptop on your coffee table. It was open. An HDMI cable connected it to your television. Not a clean setup, but an effective one. Again, you lived alone. Who was going to judge you? Your tuxedo cat?

Pfft.

Your cat was awake.

He got off your lap and hopped to the coffee table, peering at your laptop. Then he did what any sensible cat would do.

He walked all over your keyboard.

Circling around and around, smashing all the buttons with his cute pink toe beans, looking for a comfortable spot before settling down and planting his fluffy body on top of it. Windows closed, tabs appeared, the volume got muted, your display settings got fucked, the usual.

The unusual part was that your cat was looking at the screen.

Your internet browser was open.

A video was playing on a mysterious website.

A handsome young man with a boxy smile was wearing a sienna floral dress shirt and sunglasses, oddly paired with flared violet pants. He was standing next to another young man with an angelic face who, for some reason, was wearing a pastel floral handkerchief around on his head and a white-and-navy tracksuit with black, red, and green stripes. They were standing in some weird set with a black tablecloth covered round table and a lavender crystal ball, crystal-like beaded curtains glinting in strangely colorful lighting.

There was no volume.

Your cat tilted his head at the screen, curious.

The man with the boxy smile was speaking excitedly, gesturing to the angelic-looking man who seemed to be in awe. A retro, old school graphic popped up, flowers surrounding a blocky orange and green serif font, mildly tacky but somehow endearing in its own way.

COULD WISHES REALLY BE GRANTED?

Your cat tilted his head the other way.

Your cat didn’t know Korean.

… Right?

Well, you did mostly speak to him in Korean. Maybe he was secretly fluent. He definitely knew, don’t fucking do that, because you would witness him doing the very thing you told him not to do right after you said it. Bastard. But you couldn’t bear witness to this now. You were knocked out on the couch.

Zzz.

Boxy-smile guy placed his fingers elegantly on his forehead, mock dismay on his features, acting as if he couldn’t believe the viewer’s skepticism. Angel-looking guy placed his hands in prayer position, the text now reading, I won’t believe you unless you prove it! Boxy-smile guy flourished to the camera, showing off his brilliant pearly-white smile, mouthing words unheard. Text appeared once more.

Make a wish, any wish!

Your cat closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep.

The video turned black and disappeared into purple sparkles.

Your internet browser unexpectedly closed.

-

You woke up with a painful stitch in your neck and Shooky nowhere to be found.

“Fuck…”

You tried to get up, but underestimated the cramp in your back and fell onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck!”

You blamed the pandemic for fucking up your sleep schedule. Also, getting old. Fuck getting old and being an adult. Time didn’t stop just because you didn’t go to work. Well, not true. You did go to work; your work was just different now. You were YouTube video editor, which meant you were mostly edited video game montages now instead of travel vlogs. The work was slower now. People were getting discouraged, taking breaks, because, you know.

Pandemic.

Sigh.

Anyway, not the point. You were grateful that your work was mostly internet and computer-based. Not everyone was so lucky. You were also grateful that you didn’t work in an industry that was too negatively affected by the pandemic. It had started off as a hobby, but then the creators you were helping unexpectedly blew up, needing your help more and more. You fell into it by accident, but that’s how life was. Happy little accidents. You couldn’t complain. As long as you had some income to feed your cat and you, that was enough.

Speaking of cat.

“Shooky?”

No meow.

Huh.

He normally would meow or trot over to you when called. He was weirdly affectionate like that.

You were still on the floor, on hands and knees, crick in your neck and back aching. Ah yes, age was just a number until your back pain flared up due to repeated nights of unintentionally falling asleep on the couch. Lovely. You stretched out your back with a groan and yawned, cracking your neck.

“FUCK!”

That hurt. Ugh, you really needed to stop sleeping on the sofa. You untangled yourself from your blanket and headed to the bathroom, rubbing your neck. You still didn’t see your fluffy, seven-kilogram, kind-of-an-ass tuxedo cat, but whatever. He had to be in the apartment. He couldn’t exactly leave. He was a cat. What was he going to do, grow legs and opposable thumbs?

Pfft.

You shoved your toothpaste-covered toothbrush in your mouth and began brushing your teeth. You hummed, trying to remember if you had any deadlines. Eh, they were on your Google calendar. You would check it after washing up. You spat and brushed for a few more minutes, thinking about nothing. This was nice. Sometimes it was nice to think about nothing. No major problems to address, simply a chill and routine morning.

Seemed sufficient.

You reached over to the spit cup and put some lukewarm water in it before taking your toothbrush out and sipping some water to gargle the minty suds out.

You heard a deep, raspy voice call your name.

“Hmm?”

You looked in the mirror.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Your mouth was full of dirty toothpaste water, cheeks puffed out.

The voice called your name again, quietly.

Nervously.

Your eyes widened, staring into the mirror in shock.

A pale man was standing behind you, wearing your mint-colored duvet over his shoulders. Messy black hair to his rounded cheeks, dark brown cat-like eyes, small pink pout. His nose was a little red, as if he was cold. There was a black choker on his neck, with a silver bell. He was taller than you, and he looked very confused.

Also.

Pointed, velvety black ears on top of his head, white tufts of fur sticking out, flicking back and forth.

You spat all over your mirror in shock.

“Urk–!”

The man jerked back as you threw your head into the sink, hastily taking another cupful of water to rinse out your mouth because, WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON? Why was there a man in your apartment? With fucking cat ears? That moved? What kind of kinky shit was that? Were you dreaming? What the fuck?! You grabbed the hand towel from its hook and furiously wiped the dirty water off your mirror, completely convinced you were having sensory and auditory hallucinations. Did you drink last night? Accidentally buy groceries laced with LSD? Snorted three kilos of cocaine off a hooker? Who the fuck knows, but there was no fucking way that you let some fucking man in your home, because, one, pandemic and, two, Shooky–

You froze.

The pale man with black hair was still there, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, looking slightly disgusted, but also scared.

He said your name again. A question, almost like a raspy meow.

It was…

Familiar?

You violently wiped your bathroom mirror some more, nearly cracking the glass.

The man was still there, wearing your mint-colored duvet.

Slowly, slowly, you turned around to face this man, your neck cracking loudly, sending searing pain up the back of your head and reminding you that, nope, this is not a dream, and if it was, it was a very shitty dream because at least in a dream you shouldn’t actually feel pain. You looked up at this man, at his fluffy black bangs shading his dark attentive eyes and pale face, chewing on his lip, clutching your duvet around his body like a giant mint cloak.

The cat ears on his head twitched.

“Uh…”

You blinked at him, watching the ears.

“Do… I know you?”

He gave you an eerily recognizable deadpan stare. “I think you do.”

No way.

What?

No.

This wasn’t possible.

You’re drunk, high, or in purgatory.

(You did have sex before marriage.)

“S… Shooky?” you croaked.

The man took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Actually, my name is Min Yoongi.”

You blinked at him. “What? You have a name?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Relief washed over you. “What do you mean, you guess? That means you’re a human being! With a birth certificate! Thank God, I thought you were my fucking cat for some reason, haha, that’s so fucking ridiculous–!” For some reason, the idea of a random stranger being in your home was much more comfortable to you than you damn cat becoming a human being, because for a hot second, you thought… but no, no, that’s stupid. “Speaking of ridiculous, these ears are crazy dude, they look almost real–”

You reached up and yanked on one of the velvety ears.

“Ow, what the fuck!”

Oh.

Oh my God.

OhmyfuckingGodthey’reattachedtohishead.

“What the FUCK?” you bellowed and a large pale hand shot out of the duvet to clamp one of his cat ears down, shrinking away from you.

“Stop yelling, please, I have sensitive hearing,” Yoongi winced, ticking his head, as if he was trying to flatten the other ear too, but couldn’t. His other hand was holding tightly to the mint duvet.

You saw a glimpse of a pale chest.

Your eyes widened into the size of saucepans.

His hand darted back into the duvet and clamped it shut from your bulging eyes, frowning. He quickly bundled himself up and straightened, thinning his mouth into a line. A few seconds passed. You gawked at him, jaw slack. The pale man sighed heavily.

“My name is Min Yoongi. My parents gave me that name. I don’t think I have a human birth certificate because I’m not a human. I am a cat. You used to call me Shooky, but Min Yoongi is my name, so I would appreciate it if you called me by my given name.”

Your jaw went even more slack.

“Cats… have names?” you squeaked.

Yoongi made a face at you. “Of course, we do. We are not savages.”

“B… But…” You frowned, shoulders falling. “You seemed to like the name Shooky…”

Yoongi shrugged his duvet-covered shoulders. “It sounded better than all the other names you suggested.”

You puffed your cheeks, placing your hands on your hips. “What was wrong with Tata? Or Chimmy? Or Cooky?”

Yoongi gave you a disapproving glare. “Well, perhaps in a parallel universe the name Shooky is somehow important to me. In any case, it was the best suggestion.”

You narrowed your eyes, frowning. “You little shit.”

“I especially disliked that one. Seemed a bit discriminating to our size difference…” He paused, looking down at you. “At the time anyway.”

Your hands fell, looking up at your cat. Er. Min Yoongi. “So, uh… Yoongi…?”

He tilted his head, peering curiously at you under his black bangs. “Hm?”

You pointed at him, gesturing up and down. “Why are you, uh… a man?”

He looked down at the duvet covering his body. You stared at your bedding wrapped around him. Why was he wearing it anyway? In fact, all you could see was a black choker with a silver bell. The mental lightning bolt suddenly hit you. Oh. Your neck began to heat. Your ears began to heat. Your whole face began to heat. Oh. Oh? Oh! Shooky – er, Yoongi? – whatever, your cat didn’t wear clothes. He only wore a collar… which meant…

It felt like your whole body was on fire with abrupt realization.

Yoongi looked up at your mint-pajama-wrapped, now tomato self still pointing at him.

“I don’t know why I’m a man.”

One of his eyebrows raised. Then Yoongi smirked.

An open-mouthed, amused smirk.

“And yes, I’m naked. Your clothes don’t fit me. I tried.”

-

Your cat, er, man? Cat-man? What even... never mind, Min Yoongi was sitting on your bed, still wrapped in your mint duvet like a key lime cake roll, waiting as you rummaged around in your dresser, searching for literally any piece of clothing that might possibly fit him. The problem was, you worked from home, so you didn't exactly own a plethora of different clothing options. Your daily wardrobe consisted of slinky black leggings...

"They're stretchy?" you suggested timidly. 

Yoongi had blinked at you. "I don't think so."

"It could work?"

He pursed his lips together. "I think you're forgetting something."

You gave him a blank look. "Huh?"

Yoongi gave you his deadpan stare. "I believe you are well acquainted with human male genitalia."

Oh.

Right. 

He had a dick.

You turned red and robotically shoved your leggings back into their place. A sudden thought flitted across your brain and you spun back to face him, blurting it out before filtering yourself. 

"Hahaha, good thing I never got you fixed, eh?"

Yoongi blinked very, very slowly. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, amused, or wanted to murder you. In conclusion, typical cat behavior. 

"I'm not fond of the idea of castration, so I suppose so."

Awkward.

Your vet had suggested it, but since he had been an indoor cat and you weren't intending on getting another, you figured you wouldn't put him under the unnecessary surgery and it would help you avoid the cost. A little irresponsible? Maybe. But you were very careful not to leave the front door open and, so far, he hasn't had the chance to get some poor lady cat knocked up.

Unfortunately…

He knew you considered permanently removing his nuts. Yikes.

Sorry, Shooks. Er, Yoongi. 

In any case!

The other half of your daily wardrobe was sweatshirts, but Yoongi's shoulders were too broad for them and he was too tall. Why was he so big anyway? Well, he wasn’t exactly big, just long-limbed. You guessed he was actually on the leaner side, judging from the way the duvet wrapped around him and the brief flash of long fingers, slim forearm, and toned chest. He had been a larger cat.

Seven kilos turned into... him?

You suddenly started and yanked open your underwear drawer, shuffling through it to get to the back and pull out a neatly folded dark gray blob.

"I have this–"

"No."

The response was so forceful and dismissive that you froze, the dark gray fabric unfurling in your loose grip. It was a large men's sweatshirt, soft, charcoal, slightly acid-wash, covered with white paint stains. Eggshell white, to be exact. The exact paint color of this very bedroom, because you had worn it to repaint over that original disgusting beige color.

"Why not?" you inquired, holding it up by the shoulders. "It'll fit you, for sure. It used to be..."

Yoongi kept his completely neutral expression trained on you as you reached your revelation, his dark eyes observing every detail of your body's reaction to the memory. Your grip on the sweatshirt tightened. You felt your cheeks and ears heat, pulse roaring in your ears.

Oh.

Er, right, so…

That one time that Shooky – no, Yoongi? – jumped on your back and made you choke on a dick? Yeah, that guy. Tattoo guy. Yeah, well, before that incident, tattoo guy was the friend of a friend who offered to help you paint your apartment because he had experience working construction – “helped my dad fix-up a house to resell for a couple months,” he had said with his disgustingly cute, cheeky grin, making you nod like an idiot and your pussy throb with his endearing adorableness – and you had moved all the furniture out so you two could get it done quickly.

You had to put your cat in the bathroom.

You didn’t want him to breathe in the fumes or get paint on his luscious fur. It was for his own good.

Tattoo guy had appeared in said charcoal sweatshirt, black ripped jeans, and the most attractive thighs in the whole damn universe, just out and about, giant holes exposing tan skin and taut muscle. Your eyes widened, frozen at your front door.

Oh yeah, he had paint rollers too. You hadn’t given a shit about those in that moment.

He had noticed you staring and laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wore the ugliest pants I own. It might get messy, you know?”

No, tattoo guy. No one thought your pants were ugly.

You sure as hell didn’t.

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I wore this gross t-shirt,” you said absentmindedly, referring to your four-sizes-too-large, free t-shirt that had been chucked at your head while walking past your university common area. It was a hideous chanteuse with magenta writing, a color combination that absolutely deserved to go to hell, and could not even be saved by the quirky, stylish, thrift-savvy TIkTokers of today. It was the ugliest thing you owned, so you wore it to repaint your bedroom.

Now you regretted it.

Tattoo guy looked you up and down. He smirked under his long black hair.

“Your body still looks great though.”

“… Urk?”

Didn’t really matter that you couldn’t conjure a sexy response, because, clearly, tattoo guy had made his decision leagues before arriving here. Painting a bedroom? Oh, yeah, you did that, and with way too much sexual tension. A man should not be that flirty while holding two paint rollers and speed painting your walls. What were you supposed to do? You barely knew the guy. All you managed to do was make awkward small talk to get to know him better. Then he took off his sweatshirt.

“Wait, that’s illegal.”

He had smirked at you, spinning the paint roller in his hand, white t-shirt molded to his body. “Hm?”

You were being mildly disrespected, but also you were gawking at his tattooed right arm and his blindingly beautiful forearms. Cough, no. You didn’t have a thing for attractive forearms. Wasn’t like staring at this muscular pair was making you weak at the knees or anything. Okay, maybe. But you weren’t going to say it out loud. Tattoo guy ticked his chin below you, to the floor. Your job was to paint the little nooks at the corners, ceiling, and baseboards. You spent a whole lot of your job sneaking glances at him and getting caught.

Shit.

“You missed a spot.”

You whipped your head to the floor, craning your head to look for it. A paint roller appeared beside you, pointing to a small sliver for nasty beige. He had a clear, silvery voice.

“Right here.”

You frowned at it and raised your paintbrush in warning to the offensive beige, ready to strike.

“… Noona.”

You started and fell over.

You sputtered, legs tangled, oversized shirt flipping up, trying not to drop the paintbrush and drawing a fat streak across the unpainted wall. You shook your head roughly, clutching the handle of the brush, cool draft floating up your shirt.

Tattoo guy appeared above you, grinning, his front teeth slightly too large and giving him the appearance of a rambunctious bunny.

“You alright?”

You felt your neck and ears heat. No, you were not alright. Yes, you were older, but that didn’t… that wasn’t the time… You didn’t expect it, that’s all. You tried very hard not to look at his thighs. Or his face. Or his chest. Just didn’t look at him. Also, you were pretty sure you were flashing him and pretty fucking sure you didn’t give a shit.

You coughed awkwardly. “Yup, I’m good.”

Back to copious sexual tension complemented by paint fumes.

Once the first coat was down, you two stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the plastic drop cloth, him banishing a paint roller and you a paintbrush. Challenge complete and it didn’t take you very long. Nice.

“We have to let it dry and then we can paint another coat,” he was explaining.

“It looks fine like this.”

Tattoo guy clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Once it dries, it will look uneven. Trust me.”

You frowned. “Okay. How long should we wait?”

“Couple hours, at least.”

A couple hours? You frowned more. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

He didn’t reply. You turned your head to face him and tattoo guy was staring at you with a smile.

Uh oh.

He was spinning the paint roller with one hand. You felt your ears and neck heat. He switched from his left hand to his right, seamlessly. Incredibly sexy. Were the paint fumes getting to you? You gulped, awkwardly gesturing to the paintbrush.

“Let me just… put this down…”

You turned around and balanced your paintbrush in the paint tray, only to gasp as your felt something foamy roll down your back, covering you with the strong stench of paint. It stopped above the curve of your ass, unable to roll smoothly any longer.

“Hmm, can’t get past your juicy ass, noona,” he teased.

You spun around, cheeks flushed, sputtering.

No, no. You didn’t forget tattoo guy’s name. You remembered it, even now. Remembered saying it in multiple different ways, even.

“Jeon J-Jungkook!”

In surprise, streaks of paint in your hair, him smirking, dropping the paint roller on the other plastic tray and somehow not tipping it over, thank goodness, him walking up to you, taking the bottom of your paint-covered chanteuse university t-shirt, leaning down to whisper hotly against your lips.

“Ah, sorry, it seemed like you didn’t like that shirt very much,” he breathed, sending your brain into overdrive with the heat against your skin, his knuckles brushing your thighs. “You can wear my sweatshirt instead, if you like.”

Your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“J… Jungkook…”

In breathlessness, heart pounding in your chest, gaze locked with mischievous dark chocolate orbs, his teeth catching his lower lip, tiny mole underneath revealed.

“Yeah?”

Why was his voice so deep? The tiny tip of his pink tongue darted out, licking his lips enticingly.

“… Noona?”

This man was illegal.

Your hands darted down and gripped his, catching your lower lip in your teeth as well, matching his lip bite, seeing the eagerness growing in his eyes.

Someone should call the police. Or an ambulance.

You grinned, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t want to wear anything around you.”

But not for you.

There was a very loud meow from your bathroom, but before Jungkook could ask, you yanked your shirt up and over your head. He gasped and instantly it was lips on lips, messy kisses and stumbling to the living room were your bed, dresser, nightstands, bookcase, knickknacks, everything scattered everywhere, but Jungkook and you were too busy yanking off clothes and getting frisky to give a shit.

Yikes.

You stared at Yoongi now, red from head to toe, clutching the dark gray sweatshirt. He rolled his eyes and looked away from you.

“I… washed it?” you offered weakly.

Yoongi’s dark brows raised from under his black bangs. “Mmm, you forget that I have quite keen hearing. I’m not deaf like you, human.”

The color drained from your face.

Well.

Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook got you to wear his dark gray sweatshirt, forcing you – respectfully, he called you noona, after all – to get on your hands and knees for him, then make you wait in said embarrassing position with his sweatshirt bunched around your neck – because, er, gravity – while he casually made you watch him roll the condom on, highly amused by your impatient glare, only to move away and slowly shove his dick inside your soaking wet pussy and spank your ass until you backed up into him enough times to make yourself cum on his stiff length without him moving his hips.

Respectfully, of course.

“Fuck, noona, that was so fucking hot…”

“Jungkook,” you gasped breathlessly, ass stinging in glorious pain. “F-Fuck me, please.”

He made you scream.

He fucked your hard, making the bed creak, pounding you so roughly into the mattress that your fingers curled into the mint sheets, and when you gasped that you were close, he fucking stopped, the damn sadist, causing you to slam your fists into the bed and buck back into his crotch, Jungkook chuckling at your desperation. In your haze of begging for Jungkook’s cock, you heard a judgmental meow from your bathroom, but before you could address it, Jungkook seemed to have accepted your pleading and began to thrust into you once more, making you lose your train of thought and all thoughts in general, except your dire need to orgasm.

Jungkook had made you moan for hours.

Right now, however, Yoongi’s sharp look was making you mute. You were so mortified that you swore your soul stood up and walked out of your body, too ashamed to be in Yoongi’s presence any longer.

“Mmm,” the dark-haired man mused absentmindedly, pointed ears flicking.

From spitting onto the mirror to mentioning his possible castration to remembering that you had locked Yoongi in the bathroom for hours to have mind-blowing sex with Jeon Jungkook under the guise of repainting your bedroom walls…

Too bad life doesn’t have an undo button.

You suddenly remembered Jungkook pushing you up against the bathroom door, your leg hooked around his waist, his cock plunging in and out of you, lips on your neck, and your wrists pinned to the door, rattling it as he fucked you, whispering against your skin.

“You sound so fucking sexy, make more sounds for me, I’ll fuck you as much as you want, fuck you until you can’t think, can’t move, just to hear you say my name over and over…”

“Jungkook… f-fuck, you f-feel so fucking good, o-oh, Jungkook…!”

He pulled his lips away from your neck and smirked in your face.

“Yeah… noona?”

Respectfully.

“Fuck!”

Your back arced against the bathroom door as you came, pussy throbbing and spasming, the top of your head touching the wood, gasping Jungkook’s name in ecstasy, slamming your wrists against the door, Jungkook moaning as he came inside you, cock jerking inside the condom and swelling it with his orgasm, lips crashing down on yours and you whining pathetically into his mouth as he sucked on your tongue roughly.

A quiet, disapproving meow below you.

A master yikes.

You deliberately shoved the dark gray blob back into your underwear drawer.

Yoongi pursed his lips.

“Why is it in your underwear drawer, anyway?”

You slowly closed it, the wood snapping as the drawer touched the dresser.

Silence.

A crow cawed in the distance.

“You know what, let me make a trip to the convenience store…” was your hollow reply as you mechanically walked out of your bedroom, followed by a mint duvet.

“Do you know what size I would be?” came the husky, amused chuckle behind you as you pawed around your apartment for your wallet, two masks, hand sanitizer.

“I’ll just… buy a variety…”

“Or you could measure.”

You heard a rustle and you whipped your head around, only to see Yoongi’s cocked eyebrow and a slight bit of his exposed shoulders, collarbones on display, silver bell jingling. He yanked it back up, frowning at you.

“Are you a pervert?”

“N… no!”

You jerked away and hastily hooked the masks on your ears, fumbling with your sneakers before declaring, “I will be right back!” And then you threw yourself out the door.

Yoongi sighed, finally releasing his hold on the duvet.

“Ugh, so stuffy…”

His long black tail whipped about.

The door suddenly jerked back open and you plucked your keys from the side dish.

Only to see Yoongi fully naked, sleek black tail whisking around, blinking at you.

He was naked.

Really naked.

Very, one hundred percent, naked.

The mint duvet was pooled around his legs on the ground and Min Yoongi, who was formerly your cat Shooky, was a fair-skinned, long-limbed, lean-bodied, very attractive tall man, with velvety black cat ears and tail and – urk! – completely intact human male genitalia. Your neck, ears, cheeks, chest, ancestors from generations long ago, all turned red in embarrassment. Once again, you soul completely left your body in pure mortification.

“D… Don’t leave!” you blurted, snapping the door closed.

Yoongi just stood there, sighing as he heard the door lock and a body bolt down the apartment building stairs.

“You didn’t even change out of your pajamas…” he muttered, picking up the duvet.

-

"I can't wear these."

It was a few hours later. Thankfully, when you arrived home with your purchases, your cat... man was asleep, wrapped like a mint cake roll in your duvet. You tried not to think about his naked body on your bed, therefore ending up thinking about his naked body on your bed. 

"You need to wear pants! For..."

Dark eyebrows raised. 

"Decency!"

After getting home, you had spent the next thirty minutes hand-washing a black t-shirt, black boxer briefs, and loose black pants that were definitely too short but it was the only size available that could fit that waist, so you had to make do. You put the other shirts and underwear in the washing machine, but you needed to wash at least one outfit and hang it to dry. You tried to use the hottest water your hands could handle to sterilize the clothing, wincing at the blistering heat. 

You didn't know if Yoongi could get coronavirus but you weren't going to risk it. 

Eventually you placed everything on the drying rack and positioned your space heater on them to dry them off. 

Then you passed out on the couch. You deserved it, after working so hard.

Only to be woken up by Yoongi poking your shoulder roughly and telling you he couldn't wear the underwear and pants. 

He was still holding the duvet around his body and your neck was still regretting every second of sleeping on the couch. Ow. Too much physical labor. Quarantine had turned you into a formless potato. You sat up halfway, wincing. Ugh, pain. You jabbed your finger at Yoongi, who gave you a displeased narrowing of his eyes. 

"Put the pants on, you animal!"

Yoongi swept around the sofa, mint duvet and all, determined glint in his dark orbs, lips pursed in annoyance. You started, cracking your neck by accident, yelping in pain as you fell back against the couch.

Yoongi planted himself on top of you nimbly.

You froze.

Partly because you were shocked, but mostly because your neck seized a bit.

His legs were on either side of you, body still wrapped up, perfectly balanced despite the sudden leap, surveying you with a disapproving and discerning eye. The silver bell on his neck jingled with his movement. You could feel his calves against your knees.

His bare calves.

"Are you dumb?"

"What?" you croaked in response.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "You always forget things."

You blinked at him, confused, neck heating. "What are you talking about?" you snapped impatiently.

"This."

Thump.

You felt something long and furry hit your leg. Your body almost jerked up in surprise, but Yoongi hissed at you, making you lurch back, somewhat stunned at how cat-like it sounded. It was definitely a warning. You were still in your pajamas, slightly thinner material than your usual clothes. It had been cold outside, but your everlasting embarrassment had kept you toasty warm.

Like it was now, because you realized your clothed outer thigh was touching his inner thigh.

His naked inner thigh.

You let out a noise between shock and confusion.

"Urk?"

The long, furry thing brushed against your legs as Yoongi watched you reach your slow realization.

"O-oh... Right. You have a tail..."

He grunted, thinning his eyes into slits. "Yes, because I am a cat."

Highly debatable at the moment, but you were too busy remembering your cat also had a human dick and nuts. Well, not also. Only had? Well. Maybe if you had a seco–

No. No, never mind that. Yeah.

Never.

Mind.

You gulped, trying to suppress the rising heat in your ears and failing. "I can sew?"

Yoongi tilted his head, nose wrinkling a bit. Then he got off you, circling around the couch. You sat up, neck still hurting, but the warmth of your embarrassment somehow helping. Yes, great, trading temporary physical pain for lifetime mental embarrassment, only for such moments to be remembered at the most inopportune times to throw you off guard.

Awesome.

You visibly cringed before standing up, seeing Yoongi's hand snake out and nab the boxer briefs, making them disappear into the duvet. You saw the fabric rustle and then the briefs reappeared, chucked at your face.

Your head snapped back at the force, arms flailing.

"Mmphf!"

"Should be about four or five centimeters. Make it quick. It's hot under here."

You yanked the underwear off your face, scowling. "I'm not your maid!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, black ears flicking. He was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes. What was this guy so high and mighty for? If anything, he should be grateful that you even car–

"You're been cleaning up my literal shit for a few years now, so you are practically are my maid."

... Wait a second, he's right.

You growled and hauled yourself up.

-

An hour later, your cat was dressed.

Cat?

Man?

Whatever.

Min Yoongi was finally wearing clothes and not your duvet and your fingers stung like a bitch.

You ended up snipping a hole and using bias tape to seal off the raw edges. You didn’t own a sewing machine, so this was the next best thing you could think of without destroying your fingers by trying to imitate zig-zag stiches, although you ended up destroying your fingers anyway because you had to sew small, delicate stitches to attach the bias tape. The area was too high traffic to not reinforce.

Sigh.

“Please tell me you know how to use the bathroom by yourself from now on.”

Yoongi had raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’ve watched you enough times to know how to expel human excrement.”

Right. Because he was your cat. Don’t think about it too much. You were trying to take everything one thing at a time so you didn’t overwhelm yourself. Those were future-you problems. Why does he talk like that anyway? You didn’t even know how he knew Korean. Was it because you watched too much television? Yikes.

You rubbed your forehead, dismissing the discussion. “Good talk.”

You realized you would have to cut openings for his tail for all the underwear on the drying rack but, again, that was a future-you problem. Instead, you let him change in your bedroom and went to retrieve the laptop on your coffee table. Plugged it in and turned it on.

All your settings were wack.

“The fuck?” you muttered, resetting your display, volume, brightness, sigh, nearly everything. This only happened when a certain someone stepped on the keys when you weren’t looking. You raised your voice, still looking at the screen. “Did you fuck with my computer last night?”

“No. Oh, well, I did sleep on it,” Yoongi was saying as he stepped out of your bedroom. You growled in your chest, annoyed, but setting everything back into its place before opening your Google calendar. Nothing due immediately, thank god. “Er, maybe you shouldn’t…”

You looked up.

Oh.

Oh?

Oh!

Yoongi mussed his black hair, scratching at his velvety black ear. You noticed he didn’t have a set of human ears. Well, duh. That’d be weird. He was still wearing the black choker with the little silver bell on it. The t-shirt was nicely loose on his frame, the black standing out against his fair skin. The sweatpants were a little short on the ankle, the slim fit showing off his leanness. The sleek black tail swished back and forth.

He was… handsome.

Yoongi looked apprehensive, twisting his lips to one side. “Hmm.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “Well, when I woke up as a human, I was cold, except for…” His hand ghosted towards his crotch. He pulled it away, waving it aside. “Mmm, never mind.”

You gave him a confused look and went back to your keyboard, typing away. Yoongi winced but you were too busy replying to an email to think too much about it.

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to inform you of the following.

Min Yoongi had woken up on the coffee table, fucking freezing because humans didn’t have fur, and because his nuts and dick were getting roasted by your overheating laptop keyboard.

Upon waking up, he had a mild mental breakdown as you continued snoring loudly and unceremoniously, before scurrying away to the warmest place he knew – your bed, where he claimed the duvet and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Is this real life?

He had poked at various parts of his new body, trying to figure out if this was a dream or a horrific nightmare.

As we all know.

Life is a horrific nightmare, so indeed, this was real life.

-

You jumped as Yoongi slumped down on the sofa next to you, sticking his head and ears into your view, blocking the computer screen.

“I’m hungry.”

You gawked at him.

“What a-are you d-doing?” you sputtered.

“I’m hungry,” he repeated. He had a bit of a raspy, almost growly voice at times, reminding you of a cat’s meow. His meow, in fact.

You scooted away, neck heating. Yoongi followed, prodding you.

“Why are you like this?” you grumbled irritably, smacking his hand. Yoongi persisted, as if you did nothing at all.

“This is how I get your attention, because you humans will ignore me if I don’t.”

“You’re a human too!”

“No, I am a cat.”

“Hello?” You grabbed his hand and jabbed at his palm, pointing to his thumb. “Cats don’t have thumbs!”

Yoongi yanked his hand out, shockingly similar to how Shooky used to pull his paw out when you were massaging his little white socks and he was over it. You noticed his cuticles looked a bit dry and torn up. Lately, Shooky’s paws had been a little chewed up too. You frowned at it, tilting your head.

Yoongi stood up and his tail whacked you in the face.

“Ow!”

“Feed me.”

You scowled, rubbing your cheek. Yoongi stared down at you, face expressionless.

Okay, your cat might be a man now, but he was still a borderline asshole, so not much had changed.

“Fine.”

-

You both stared at the bowl of dry cat food.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“What am I supposed to do with all this cat food then? I just brought it last week!”

“That’s your problem.”

You threw up your hands and cooked you both some lunch.

-

This was too much.

You know what you did when it was too much?

You took a nap.

You had dishes to clean, underwear to make tail-holes for, a cat that was now a man, an existential crisis to address, but you know what? You took a fucking nap instead. You left Yoongi with your computer and Netflix and told him to do whatever as long as none of it involved him leaving the house.

Yoongi had snorted. “What do I need to go out there for?”

“Awesome. I’m taking a nap.”

And you passed out.

Only to wake up groggily because your lungs were being crushed.

Actually no, it kind of felt like your whole torso was being crushed.

“Urk…!”

You fought with your sleepiness, somehow worse off than you had been before the nap, scrunching up your face ad blinking blearily. Head on memory foam pillow, check. Back on soft mattress, check. Black hair with sleek cat ears and pale face pressed on your chest? Check.

What, wait?

“Gah!”

You lurched and the head grunted, shoulders solidly pinning you down. He was under the mint-colored duvet. Yoongi, your cat that was now a man, was under the duvet.

UNDER THE DUVET.

“Stop yelling. Is that all you humans do? Yell?”

“Why are you – what are you doing here?” you hissed shrilly, trying to wiggle out from under him, but it was impossible. Yoongi was far too big now for you to throw him off.

“Sleeping, obviously,” he grumbled. “Or I was, until you started shouting.”

“Yes, but this is my bed,” you emphasized, realizing you could move your hands so you grabbed him by the waist, fingers grasping the black jersey fabric. You pressed inwards, hands molding to his sides.

Yoongi raised his head, squinting down at you.

You froze.

An oddly familiar gaze of accusation and uncaring. His eyes were dark brown, not the recognizable mint, but the effect was the same. Pink lips upturned, slightly annoyed.

And.

You suddenly remembered he was a man.

A man who was pressed down against you, long legs around your legs, broad chest to your chest, and shockingly attractive for someone who used to be a cat.

“I sleep in your bed all the time. What’s the difference?” Yoongi muttered.

What’s the difference?

The difference???

You’re a man!

A HOT MAN!!!

You struggled to find words, completely entranced by how close Yoongi’s face was to yours, watching his ears adjust slightly to pick up all the small sounds around him. You opened your mouth and it only made a tiny squeak. The pressure on your chest was becoming unbearable. You were so shocked that you completely forgot that you were still dying. You cleared your throat as Yoongi looked increasingly displeased.

“You… You used to be over the duvet…”

Yoongi yawned, nodding a little. “Yes, but it’s colder now. No more fur. I don’t know how you humans survive. Must be why you buy these warm things.”

Your hands were still on his waist. You pulled them away quickly and Yoongi frowned.

“Y-Yeah, but… you weigh a lot more now…” you croaked. “Can’t… breathe…”

Yoongi sighed heavily, as if this was a great disappointment. He slid off you.

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true.”

He nestled close to you and you still stunned, pin-straight body.

“Guess it’ll have to be like this instead from now on.”

Like this?

From now on?

Oh. Oh no.

Yoongi’s velvety, pointed ear flicked against your cheek, a low hum resounding in his chest.

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[iknewyoudunderstand]

omg thanks for understanding! I feel bad because I want to support everyone’s work but sometimes I can’t read it :/ but if you’re taking requests, what about Hotch accidentally walking in on Spencer talking to Penelope about his crush on Hotch?

“I know something you don’t know!”

“Statistically unlikely,” Spencer says, his voice thick from the early morning and the copious sugar in his coffee. “But it’s possible.”

Penelope, a shock of pink on an overall beige day at work, bounces on her toes. Her chunky jewelry clinks and clatters as she jumps around. If his brain wasn’t still sleep-addled, it would be too much for him, but he’s been up all night and his coffee hadn’t kicked in yet and he wasn’t prepared for a conversation so early in the morning. Right now, his senses are coasting on him barely being able to process the stimuli. The sun is barely even up. He has to summon a lot of energy to even make his mouth move.

“What do you know?”

“It’s a secret!”

He sighs. “Garcia, it’s 7:30 and you’re going a million miles an hour. Can you just tell me?”

She stops bouncing, arms dropping to her sides. Something like a scowl, an over-exaggerated imitation of Hotch, settles on her face. “Reid, that’s no fun.”

“Why does it have to be fun?”

“Because I love fun! Everyone knows this—it’s one of my best and most obvious features. Now ask me!”

“Ask you what?”

Penelope lets out a loud, put-upon sigh. “You’re killin’ me, whizz kid.”

“You’re killing me!”

“I would never.”

“What’s the secret?!”

“It’s your secret.” Her eyes flash and her smile turns devilish. “I know who you have a crush on!”

Spencer stops cold. “Garcia, I’m twenty-four. I-I don’t have a crush. I don’t have crushes. I haven’t had crushes since I was thirteen. No adult has crushes—”

“You absolutely have a crush. You’re stuttering, you’re doing that hand thing—” Spencer stuffs his hands in his pockets to stop himself from wringing them. “Uh huh. I’m not a profiler, but I know the signs! You have a crush.”

“So?” His voice cracks so loud he winces. “Listen, it… most adults spend a minimum of 1,680 hours in the office per year.” Penelope scoffs. “Exactly. So there’s not really anyone else for us. It’s very normal to be attracted to people you spend so much of your time with! There was a study in 1968 where college students were shown photos of faces, and some photos were shown up to twenty-five times while others were only shown once or twice, and the most liked faces were those that had been seen more. Prolonged exposure leads to increased attraction, so it’s normal that someone like Hotch would be—”

“You have a crush on Hotch?!”

Spencer throws his arms up. He probably won’t need a second cup of coffee, because he could run a marathon—as long as he is running in the complete opposite direction of this conversation. “Everyone has a crush on Hotch! It’s simple psychology! People are attracted to authority; in evolutionary terms, a person in a position of power is seen as someone with resources and abilities that will create viable offspring—” Garcia’s eyes go wide and Spencer feels like he’s dying. His face is so hot, sweat is beading on his upper lip. “Not that—I’m not saying that, I’m saying that’s where it comes from. It’s an instinctual attraction.”

“Spencer—”

“Plus, plus, I mean, he’s also… I mean, as a person, he’s…” The words are stuck behind his teeth and under his tongue. This is the first time he’s ever said any of this out loud, and these feelings have been rattling around in his head for so long it’s strange to let them out. “There’s obviously more dimension to him than just as an authority figure. He’s intelligent, he’s compassionate, he’s passionate… the intensity created in a work situation can mirror the intensity we experience in sexual relationships, so… oh, God—”

“Reid!” Penelope hisses. She grabs his arm, her fingernails sharp like talons, and stops his train wreck of thought.

“Everyone has a crush on me?” Hotch asks, his eyebrows almost at his hairline. Briefcase in hand, obviously having just walked in, Spencer can’t tell if he’s horrified or amused or concerned or any combination of those because Spencer cannot look at him. Spencer is five seconds away from curling up on the floor and transforming into a pile of confetti, with “IDIOT” inscribed on every shred of paper. Penelope seems to be five seconds away from hyperventilating. “I think that’s a little generous.”

“Hotch, I am so sorry—”

He holds up a hand. Spencer nearly swallows his tongue. Penelope’s nails just might draw blood.

“I’m very flattered,” Hotch says softly. “In the future, there are more appropriate places to have conversations such as these—as I have already told you several times, Garcia.”

“Sorry,” she squeaks.

“In the meantime, everyone will be here shortly; we’re being called in to Oregon for a series of missing children cases.” They lock eyes. As always, it sucks the air right out of his lungs. “If you feel comfortable, Reid, we can discuss this more once we return home.”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah.”

Hotch smiles. It’s small, but the hint of a dimple on his cheek and the crinkling at the corners of his eyes spell out genuine… something. Something genuine. Spencer refuses to let hope bubble up in his chest, just like he refuses every time they brush fingers or shoulders or Hotch looks at him for too long, or when he notices Hotch listening intently to his rambling or laughing at his obscure jokes. He squashes it down every time Hotch shows how much he cares—more than any boss would—and, yes, every time Hotch shows exactly how capable he is, in the field and at containing and responding to all Spencer’s chaos and fragility… that’s just who Hotch is. Everyone has a crush on Hotch because he does that for everyone. Spencer refuses to foster hope—but hope settles in him.

Hotch smiles at him, and then he walks away.

“What just happened?” Spencer asks.

“I think I just got you laid.”

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: hi!! i know i have been pretty consistent about updating this fic every other day but i’m starting a new job in addition to school so the updates may be a little bit slower. my apologies!!

Masterlist

Chapter 18

Emily was the first to clock it. She whispered to Derek who told Penelope and then it was game over. Everyone knew about the mysterious ring that appeared on Spencer’s finger over Christmas break.

Spencer was in the break room, refilling his coffee mug, when they began to discuss theories.

“You think they got engaged and married in the week we didn’t see him?” Rossi asked.

“If they did, I’m going to kill him for not telling us let alone be there,” Penelope huffed, stomping her high heel.

“But the ring isn’t on his ring finger,” JJ pointed out.

“Maybe the kid doesn’t know,” Derek offered.

“You think a genius doesn’t know which finger a wedding ring goes on?” Hotch asked, amused.

It was clear it was big news because even Hotch and Rossi had come out of their offices when Reid got up from his chair.

Spencer walked back into the bullpen, stopping when he noticed everyone’s eyes on him.

“Do we have a case?” Spencer asked.

“What’s with the ring on your finger, Boy Wonder?” Penelope questioned.

“Oh um that,” Spencer looked down at his hand wrapped around his mug, “Y/N and I have matching ones.”

He thought that cleared everything up so he continued to walk over to his desk. Once he was seated, he looked up to see everyone still staring at him.

“Did you elope?” Emily asked.

“No. This is on my index finger, not my ring finger,” he held up his hand, “The wedding ring is traditionally placed on the ring finger because it was believed that the finger had a vein that connected directly to the heart but that’s actually untrue.”

“So why the rings?” Rossi chimed in.

“I don’t know. I just really love her and I wanted to have something connecting us whenever we’re apart,” Spencer shrugged.

He blushed at the sounds of the team ‘awww’ing and ‘ooh’ing.

“Also I guess since everyone needs to know everything about my personal life, Hotch already knows but I’ll be out next week. Jo, Y/N, and I are going to Disneyworld,” Spencer smiled.

“Oh Henry loved it when we went but you’re going to be dead on your feet at the end of each day,” JJ said.

-

Jo was most excited for Animal Kingdom so that was the park you were starting off with.

You all waited in line for the safari ride. Spencer was adamant about all the germs festering at amusement parks so he had a backpack full of hand sanitizer, disinfecting wipes, and other essentials. He was carrying Jo on his shoulders and holding your hand.

Once you loaded into the safari vehicle, the tour guide introduced himself and the ride began.

Jo looked at the huge elephants grazing in amazement.

“Elephants live in groups called herds made up of only females. The matriarch is the oldest female in the herd and she is usually in charge,” Spencer whispered to you both.

The tour guide was spewing off facts about the animals as well but I think it was safe to say you and Jo preferred your own personal genius.

Zebras were drinking from the watering hole as you passed by.

“A group of zebras is called a dazzle and their stripes act as a way to cool themselves as well as avoid bug bites,” Spencer stated.

Next was the Expedition Everest roller coaster. Jo barely made the height requirement, cheering when the ride operator gave her the all clear after bringing out the measuring stick.

Immediately after finishing the ride, Jo demanded you ride it again. She was definitely a thrill seeker, alright.

After you took a lunch break of chicken tenders and fries, Spencer insisted everyone wash their hands twice and reapply sunscreen. It was nice to have someone even more responsible than you.

Then, you caught the Lion King Festival stage show to take a break from walking for a bit. It seemed fitting since one of your first memories as a family is singing along to that movie.

Jo seemed to be enjoying it but you and Spencer were trying your best to not doze off. The show was interesting enough, there were animatronics of the characters and acrobats and dancers but you and Spencer were both just so tired after running around to keep up with Jo all day.

Jo tapped Spencer awake after the show ended and the audience was clearing out.

“Daddy, dinosaurs!” she reminded him.

Your final ride of the day would be the dinosaur ride where it simulates traveling back in time.

The three of you got buckled up in the front row of the ride. It started out peaceful and Jo was watching the animatronic dinosaurs in awe.

However, things quickly went south. The ride was designed to seem like it was going out of control. The flashing lights, fake smoke, and hissing big dinosaurs soon began to overwhelm Jo. She curled up in a ball in between you both.

You were bent over, whispering reassurances into her ear that it was all just pretend and she would be okay. Spencer was stroking her hair and holding her hand.

Jo exited the ride with her face in Spencer’s shoulder.

“Jo, did you know that stegosauruses were herbivores? That means they only eat plants. In fact, the majority of dinosaurs were herbivores,” he softly spoke.

You really hoped this ride hadn’t squashed her love of dinosaurs. Maybe she just prefers to admire them from afar.

-

On the last day of your vacation, you were standing in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle at the Magic Kingdom Park. Jo seemed to have recovered from the dinosaur incident and was sporting her dinosaur converse today.

The fireworks you were waiting for soon began. It was the perfect way to end your last night.

“Woah,” you exclaimed after a particularly pretty firework burst into red streams in the air before fizzling out.

Jo was on your hip and Spencer was behind you with his arms wrapped around you both.

“I love you,” you looked to the side where he was leaning his head against your shoulder.

His side profile and perfect jawline were being illuminated by the colorful flashes of light in the sky.

“I love you too,” he turned to meet your eyes with a grin, kissing you.

-

The whole team was gathered around Penelope’s computer, looking at the email that Spencer had sent out to the entire team.

Subject: Having Fun

We are headed back tonight. JJ was right about being dead on your feet. I have to get my two sleepy girls to the airport somehow. Hope all is well with you guys.

-Spencer Reid

Attachment: 3 Images

The images consisted of a photo of the three of you in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle, Jo high-fiving a person dressed up in a Mickey Mouse costume, and a picture of Jo and you cuddled up on the bed of your hotel room.

“I didn’t even know Reid knew how to attach photos to emails,” Penelope stated out loud.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Reid willingly send an email,” Emily smiled.

In typical Penelope fashion, she printed the photos Spencer had sent and put them into a collage frame and displayed it prominently on his desk for him to find upon his return.

Spencer’s desk had changed drastically over the past few months. A once well-organized desk lacking a personality other than the piles of books now had a random assortment of photos, Jo’s drawings, and sticky notes marking up his calendar for important family events.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (14/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.4k words

Warning : angst, sad reader, angry reader, dumbass Bucky, Steve being likable for once, smartass Sam, reader finally having some friends, mention of assault, confrontation, drinking, fluff, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca

Unlike you, Bucky remembered everything. He could never forget that you were hurt because of him — tied to a chair for hours while he couldn't save you — crying on the bathroom floor as he held you. The only thing common in all of those instances was him. You had to go through shit because of him, and yet, you still didn't blame him. You wrapped your arm around him as if he wasn't the cause of your pain. It was clear that his past and the baggage that he came with didn’t bother you. In fact, you understood and accepted his trauma and still loved him. You didn't love him despite his baggage. No, you loved him with every bad thing he offered.

Bucky was sure you were delusional. No sane woman would want to be with the man who was responsible for her captivity, yet you snuggled closer towards him the moment this thought occurred in his head. And Bucky loved you more because of that, and he thought he wasn't physically capable of loving you more than he already did. Bucky knew you reciprocated those feelings, it was very obvious that both of you were a goner for the other. Nevertheless, those emotions were not voiced out loud in your relationship yet. And Bucky wanted it to stay that way.

Bucky decided to sneak out of your bed and house before you could wake up. He was aware it was cowardly of him to just leave without giving you an explanation. But if he stayed to explain, you would have asked him to stay, and he didn't have it in himself to tell you no. You were the ray of sunshine in his stormy life and he could never say no to you. You could ask him to get you the sun, and he would get it for you, even after knowing that it would kill him and the humankind in the process. He would still do it.

But what he couldn’t do was refuse you, so he would have to leave you instead.

***

You woke up a bit disoriented, unaware of the surroundings you were in. It took you a minute to process that you were in your own house and not held captive. Once you came back to your senses instinctively you called for Bucky. He held you while you slept the previous night, so he had to be out in the kitchen. When no response came back, you went out to check for him, only to be met with an empty house.

When you tried to contact him, Bucky was distant. He didn’t respond to your texts and your mind was telling you that something was wrong, but you shoved those thoughts sideways, hoping that maybe he was busy with work. But you both went through something traumatic, you needed him to be with you. If he were busy, he could have at least texted you.

Well, if he was going to ignore you, then you wouldn't be one of those people whose life revolved around their partner. You had a book to write and ambitions that didn’t involve him. 

Two hours later, when there was no word from him, you stared at the blank  screen on your computer. You weren’t unfamiliar with writer's block, but it had been months and you haven't written a single line since the incident in the club involving Rumlow. And now that you were alone with your thoughts, you started doubting everything. Should you have stayed in that corporate 9 to 5 job? You'd have a stable life and a fixed salary. Maybe you could have even got a promotion. Should you have filed a complaint against Rumlow? Bucky wanted you to, he even assured you the cops would be on your side, but you just weren't ready. You realized that by choosing to remain silent, you were sending a predator out in the world. He could do that to other people and you could have stopped it.

A knock on the front door interrupted your train of thoughts and you were grateful for the person on the other side. You assumed it was Bucky, he didn’t need to buzz in because he literally owned the building. Well, it could also be any one of his friends. Sam and Steve also didn't need permission . And the other day when Peter came by to give you your phone (you left it in the club), he didn't buzz in either. 

Seeing Wanda, Peter and Pietro on the door was a good change and God, you needed a change or else you'd go mad with self-loathing. 

“We brought pizza,” Wanda exclaimed, lifting the bag in her hand to show you.

You didn't say anything, just smiled at them thankfully. You were really delighted they were here. Not only that, but you didn't have many friends here, and you considered your work friends, your only friends. It was nice to see that they saw you as a friend too and not just someone they work with.

“And beers,” Pietro chimed in, raising the carton in his hand. 

You looked at Peter before teasing, “Is he even legal, guys?”

Seeing you joke around with them made Wanda happy. Between all the testosterone, she truly needed a female friend, and she was relieved to see you treating them as friends rather than colleagues. And she understood the trauma that must haunt you since your kidnapping. She was an empath and when you didn’t show up at work, she grew worried. 

Half an hour later, most of you were on your second beer. Pietro was on his fourth. That man was fast at everything he did. A movie was playing in the background that none of you paid attention to while everyone was settled on your couch. It wasn't a very spacious couch, you were all squashed into it, but it was too comfortable to leave. You were sitting in between Peter and Wanda, while Pietro was situated beside his sister.

You forgot how nice it felt to have friends and bitch about people to them.

“And just like that he was gone. I woke up and he wasn't there,” you told them, “Hasn't been taking my calls either.”

Pietro took a sip of his drink before saying, “What an ass!”

Wanda raised her bottle, nudging all of you to join her, and said, “Fuck men!” 

“Amen!” you agreed, Peter and Pietro nodded too.

“You should focus on your book,” Pietro advised, “Bucky is gonna regret if he loses someone like you, babe.”

The book. Your book. You couldn't tell them why you weren't focused on the book. It was still a lot to process, and you were not ready, so you nodded before chanting, “Fuck Bucky!”

***

“What are you doing here?” Sam questioned as he and his husband entered the  office.

“Last I checked, I own this place.”

Sam huffed, “I meant why are you here instead of her place, smartass?”

Bucky looked around to avoid the questioning gaze of both Sam and Steve. He hadn’t talked to Steve since the argument they had over you. Of course, they did discuss business as usual, but nothing related to their personal life.

 “She doesn't need me,'' Bucky murmured and looked at Steve. “You must be pleased to know that it's over.”

Bewilderment was clear on the faces of both the men because Bucky exhaled loudly before continuing, “I almost got her killed. It would be wise and safe for her to not be with me.”

Steve finally spoke, “Did she say that?”

When his best friend shook his head ‘no’, Steve sighed in exasperation. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, that's what you wanted, didn't you?” Bucky retorted, “For me to focus on work and not on her.”

 “I was clearly wrong, pal,” Steve raised his hand in exasperation as if it was obvious, “And I’m sorry for that.” 

“Well, it's over now.”

***

“Before I met Nat. I dated a girl who pretended to be gay,” Wanda scrunched her nose, remembering the awful memory.

“Oh yeah, weird Sallie,” Pietro smiled teasingly, “Did you guys know that when Wanda brought her home, she hit on our dad?”

 “No!” Both you and Peter cried out, stupefied at his words.

“Yeah,” Wanda outlined, “And on Pietro too.”

 “I mean, Mr. Barnes is not like this,” Peter brought the conversation back to Bucky and you sucked in a heavy breath. “I’m sure he had a good reason for doing all of this.”

“Seriously?” you were pretty drunk, but not drunk enough to talk about Bucky. You looked at Wanda and Pietro for support, but they shrugged their shoulders in a manner that said, ‘He's not wrong, though.’

You wanted to go to bed and sleep. But you knew they were right. Bucky would never hurt you intentionally, you knew that. “Do you guys know where he is now?”

***

Since trying to talk some sense into Bucky wasn't working, Sam and Steve retaliated back to talk about business.

“Clint is officially out of here,” Steve reported, “Torturing him would just create more ruckus. Rumlow is behind us because he wants his weapons in the government, and Clint would just be a casualty in all this shit. He has three kids.”

Sam huffed, “We told Laura. Her wrath would be worse for Clint than our fists.”

Bucky didn't say anything and just nodded. Steve could feel something was on Bucky's mind, wrapping his arms to his chest, he raised a brow towards his best friend.

“I’m just tired of all of this,” Bucky said sadly, “Is this what we left Rumlow for, pal? You have a kid at home, Wanda has a wife, I have ma and Bec and I haven't met them in years, in fear of someone following me. And now — Well, now I’ve lost the girl too."

Steve and Sam looked at their friend with sympathy. They knew the toll their work took on all of them. Hell, they had a four-year-old daughter at home, and could barely sleep at night, always terrified of losing their kid because of their job.

Sam was about to ask Bucky to suggest an alternative that would help all of them could to make it out of there and just work on the club and not some shady business. Suddenly, the office door flung open and on purpose, everyone’s hand reached for the gun in their waistband. But in walked you with a beer bottle in your hand and a pizza slice in another.

“JAMES BUCKY BARNES!” You exclaimed, your steps wavering a little as you walked towards him. Oh, and you looked royally pissed.

Instantly, Bucky was on his feet and making his way towards you, to hold you — to be near you. And before you could say anything, he was engulfing his arms around your waist, his head settled at the crane of your neck and you frowned. Okay, You did not expect that. You thought he would ignore you, and you would give him a piece of your mind before leaving.

Sober you would have asked him to have a mature conversation like adults, but tipsy you wanted to flip him off and leave. Your arms hung around your sides awkwardly, trying to understand the situation before finally pushing him away.

“You left me,” you spoke so softly that if Bucky wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard it. “I needed you and you left me alone.”

Bucky’s heart broke at your words. He didn't consider how his rash decision would affect you. You were kidnapped by the person who assaulted you. Fuck, he cursed himself. He was supposed to be protecting you, not hurting you. You sounded so hurt that Bucky wanted to get on his knees and ask for forgiveness. He was so focused on your physical injuries, he did not even realize he was hurting you emotionally.

Steve cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable to present. He interrupted and took his husband’s hand in his, “We’re going to go.”

Before they could leave, you shifted your attention towards Steve and pointed a finger at him. “Why do you hate me?”

Steve stammered, he didn't expect you to put him in a spot like this, but you had a tad more than necessary liquid courage in your system.

“Doll,” Bucky breathed, and you moved your gaze back towards him. Steve took the opportunity and left the room with Sam.

You were on the verge of tears by now — both of you were — Bucky wasn't a man who could voice his feelings, but with you, all of his armor came shattering down. With you — he would tell you his vulnerabilities and fears just so he could let you in. You meant so much to him that the fear of losing you blinded his sense of understanding. He realized that he acted immaturely and by doing so, he almost lost you.

“You hurt me,” Your voice wavered, the traitorous tears made their way down your eyes, and Bucky couldn't see you like that. Instinctively, he stretched his hands to wrap around you, but stopped, “Can I hold you?”

You sniffled and nodded, and Bucky engulfed you flush against his chest. After a while, you snaked your hands around his shoulder too, and a sob broke down from your throat.

He didn't remember how long he held you like this, but after a while, he picked you up and made his way to the couch. He stood before you and then slid one hand up to your cheek. Likewise, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. And then you slowly straddled his waist as you both settled down on the soft sofa. Bucky’s hands fell naturally to your hips to pull you closer.

“I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, once your tears suspended. You enveloped your arms around him and pressed your forehead against his.

Bucky didn’t know whether you meant it or not. You were pretty drunk. He hoped you did.

“I love you, doll,” he confessed as he kissed the crown of your head. He noticed that you were on the brink of sleep, your breathing even, and you looked so peaceful in his arms.

 He felt at ease — calm even with you in his arms and in that moment he decided he was never letting you go no matter what.

TAGS :  @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @sabrinathesimp

Taglist for future stuff.

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 9

masterlist

The next day came much too slowly. Y/N hated bed rest, and the constantly squirming future futbol star in her belly didn’t make finding a comfortable position easy. Namjoon also didn’t make bed rest any easier. The man was an expert at hovering. When he said bed rest, he meant bed rest. He didn’t let her so much as get up to use the bathroom by herself. Supposedly if she was up for even a moment without him watching, she and the baby would go into distress again. Perhaps on someone else the hovering would have been sweet, but it was Namjoon, and all she wanted to do was throttle him. She restrained herself though, if only for the sake of their new deal and the fact she wasn’t sure she could beat him in a fight with her belly so big. 

“You should really eat something.” He sighed, fully dressed and ready for the day as he sat beside her watching her pick at the food on the tray that Miss In had brought up for breakfast. “It’s good for the baby.” 

“I’m aware.” she shot back dryly, as she continued to poke at the food in distaste instead of eating it. 

“Just a little.” he tried to conceal a smile, finding her little frown adorable, even if he couldn’t allow her petulant refusal to eat in the mornings. There was only a few weeks left until the baby arrived, and he wanted them both to be as strong and healthy as possible. 

She turned to him, looking both tired and completely unimpressed. “I’m not a child, Namjoon.” 

“I know that, jagi, but the baby…” 

She took a deep breath, counting to ten to keep her temper in check. Mornings had been rough for her for the majority of the pregnancy. Morning sickness that was meant to go away half way through the pregnancy lingered, and true to its name, it liked to hit her in the morning. 

“I am aware that there’s a baby. I’m the one whose organs it's using as a punching bag. I know what I’m doing.” 

“Just a little. Please.” he did his best to keep his own temper in check, knowing full well that their truce was still fragile, but he was only trying to look out for them. 

“Fine.” she growled, gritting her teeth.

“Thank you.” he leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple with a smile. “The new doctor will be stopping by today to check on you and the baby. I’m sorry I can’t be there for it, but I need to get things in order before the baby comes.” 

She nodded, taking a reluctant bite of breakfast. “That’s fine.” 

“Your sister will be here though.” 

She perked up at that. “Iyla?” 

He smiled, relieved to see her something other than ornery. “I thought you would like to have her with you, and I did promise you could see her today.” He loved the bright smile that spread over her features. He only wished that she would smile like that for him once in a while. “Jin will be coming by as well, just to make sure that everything is in order with the new doctor.” 

“No shooting this one.” she grumbled, taking another small bite. 

“No shooting.” he promised. 

After breakfast, where he forced her to choke down a minimal amount of porridge despite her still tender stomach, Namjoon was off to work, and she was more than happy to see him go. It gave her freedom to attempt sneaking her way out of bed, a plan that was quickly squashed by Miss In who had a gaggle of maids constantly checking up on her if she wasn’t there herself. She wanted to be dressed in something other than pajamas, but that apparently wasn’t going to happen. 

“Y/N!” a wonderfully familiar voice called right before the ball of energy that was her sister came barrelling into her, smooshing them both back against the pillows. 

“Hey, Iya.” she whispered, squeezing her sister tight and ignoring Hoseok who lingered at the door. “We’re fine, Hoseok. I’m sure Namjoon needs you for something or another.” the man didn’t move. “There are guards everywhere, and Miss In checks in every twenty minutes it seems. Do you really want to be here for my check up?” 

“Probably not.” he shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’ll wait till the kid’s born to coo over pictures.” He turned a sharp eye to Iyla who was still curled tightly around her sister. “I’ll be back later to pick you up, okay?” she didn’t say anything, and Hoseok sighed tiredly before making his exit. “Good luck with the check up.”

Both women waited for Hoseok to leave before they said anything else. 

“You’re okay right?” her sister pulled back, scanning her over once they were both sure Hoseok was gone. “You were so upset when I left, and you had pain in your belly. Is the baby okay?” 

“Baby is fine, but are you okay?” she lifted her hands up, gently cupping her face. “Hoseok didn’t hurt you at all?” 

She shook her head, causing a few stray strands to fall out of the bun that sat messily on top of her head. “I’m fine. He’s not the most pleasant,” she grimaced. “But he didn’t hurt me.”

“Good. That's good.”  she flopped back onto the mattress in relief. “So what are we doing today?” 

“I’m on bed rest.” the news was met with a sympathetic ‘oof’ from her sister. “But the new doctor is coming today to do a check up, so you’ll probably get to see the ultrasound.” 

“New doctor?” Iyla propped herself up on her elbows. “What happened to the old doctor?” 

“Namjoon shot her.” 

“And I thought mine was bad.” she huffed, laying back down. “Are we better or worse off than with Marcus?” she turned looking at her sister with a serious expression that wasn’t typical of her. 

Y/N sighed, settling herself back against the pillows as well. That really was the question. Were they better off? She’d told Namjoon that he was worse than Marcus, but was it actually true or had she just said it to rile him? 

“Well, I’m not getting beat up every other day.” she offered weakly. 

“Y/N.” 

“I made a deal.” she admitted, resting a hand over her belly. 

“What kind of deal did you make?” 

“They can’t hurt us. They can’t do anything that Marcus did, and I arranged for him to let Mark, the guy who helped me escape, go unharmed. The catch is we can’t leave, or at least I can’t. I made no such promise for you. If you find a window, you take it.” 

“I’m not leaving you here alone!” she argued, sitting up and glaring at her sister. “If I’m leaving, I’m taking you and the peanut with me.” 

“I can’t.” she shook her head sadly. “I’ve gotten out of here twice, and neither was without help, and both times ended badly. I got Jackson killed, Iya.” 

“We run together. We go back to the states!”

“We don’t have phones. We don’t have passports.” 

“We get to the embassy!” 

Y/N shook her head. “We have no way of getting to Seoul. You’d have a much better chance of getting out of here without dragging a pregnant lady with you, and how exactly do you think we’re going to get out of here? There are guards everywhere, and I don’t think  Namjoon is going to be taking any chances with the baby due in a few weeks.” 

“We have to try!” 

“If I leave the deal is broken, and there is no protection for either of us. If you have a chance to go, you take it, and you don’t look back.” 

“I can’t leave you here!” she cried. “Are you insane!” 

“Your sister has a point.” a new voice called from the door pulling both of their attention to Sen who stood there with her little boy perched on her hip. “But even if you have a chance it won’t end well for you. Hoseok isn’t a man to cross. He can be sweet if he wants to, but there’s a whole lot of crazy behind that sunshiney exterior. You’re safer here where you have family to look out for you.” 

“And who are you?” Iyla growled, protectively scooting closer to her sister. 

“This is Sen.” Y/N placed a calm hand on Iyla’s shoulder. “She’s Yoongi’s wife, not by choice.”

“What’s she doing here?”

“Came to check in on you and the baby.” 

“You’re not needed.” 

“She’s a friend.” Y/N scolded, lightly smacking Iyla’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude.” 

“Well, then we take her too!” Iyal conceded, already getting fired up again.

“Right.” both older women scoffed. 

“How are you planning to sneak you, me, a baby, and a pregnant lady out of here?” Sen asked arching an elegant brow. “I’m not risking Yoonho. Taehyung might be busy with his girl, but he has eyes everywhere, and I’m betting Hoseok had Jin stick one of Taehyng’s trackers in you just like Yoongi did me. They’re a little paranoid if you hadn’t noticed. Two out of seven have had pregnant women slip away from them. Apparently, it’s a little traumatizing.” 

That shut Iyla right up, if only for a moment. “We can take the trackers out!” Her voice was more frantic now as she grasped at straws.

“Done that.” Y/N grimaced at the memory. “It wasn’t a pleasant experience.” 

“We can’t do nothing!” 

“You’re not doing nothing.” Sen assured her. “You’re keeping your head down and keeping safe.” 

“I can’t risk any more travel with the baby.” Y/N added softly. “I almost went into labor yesterday. But you’re safe so long as I keep up my end of the deal.” 

“What about you?” Iyla insisted, gaze heated as her eyes darted between the two older women. “You’re content to just sit here and play house?” 

“I’d rather you be safe.” Y/N took her little sister’s hand in hers. “I won’t have you go through what I went through with Marcus, and at least this way, you have some level of protection.” 

“It’s not fair!” 

“I know.” she agreed softly. “But it’s the best I can do for now.” 

“Namjoon’s not going to hurt her.” Sen promised. “He went crazy when she was gone. He might be a raging psychopath, but he has some sort of twisted love for your sister. So long as she and the baby are here with him, she’ll be okay.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” 

“It’s the best we can do.” 

“What’s the best you can do?” Jin asked, popping into the room with a rather pale looking Hayan trailing behind him. “Good to see you again, Iyla. How’s the arm?” he asked, nodding towards the arm where he’d inserted the chip. 

“Great.” she hissed, glaring at him. “What’s the quack doing here?” 

“I’m offended! I offered to play Narts with you!” 

“Quack.” She grumbled, scooting even closer to her sister.

“He’s here for the appointment, Iya.” 

Jin perked up, turning his attention to the very pregnant woman. “And how is our gorgeous mom to be today?” 

“I’d be a whole lot better if I wasn’t on bed rest.” 

Jin laughed, and Hayan made her way over to the bed, perching on the edge and sending Y/N a small attempt at a smile. “Just for a few days. It’ll put all our minds at ease after the scare you gave us yesterday and all the stress Namjoon’s put you through.” 

“Hi, Hayan. You doing okay?” the other woman nodded slightly, but it was clear to everyone in the room she was still shaken. 

“I wanted her to stay home and rest, but she wanted to see how you were doing.” Jin sighed dramatically. “It’s my lot in life to be surrounded by gorgeous stubborn women.” 

“How’s the baby?” Hayan asked, voice soft. 

“Kicking.” 

“Kicking is good.” Jin nodded. “The new doctor should be here soon, and then we should be able to take a proper look at you and baby. Are all you ladies staying for the check up?” It was a question addressed to all of them, but they all knew that it was Y/N who was meant to answer. 

“As long as no one but the doctor is checking things down there, we’re fine.” 

“Okay.” Jin clapped his hands together. “I am going to ask that everyone who isn’t Iyla go sit over there, except you.” he reached out, lifting Yoonho right out of Sen’s arms. “You get to stay with Uncle Jinnie, spend some time away from stinky old Yoongi.” 

The little boy stared at him, completely unimpressed looking so much like his father before he started fussing for absolutely no reason, reaching up with one chubby little fist to roughly grab a lock of Jin’s hair and yanking. 

“Ow! Okay! Okay!” Jin handed the baby back. “Not today then. He gets more like his dad every day.” he huffed, pouting as yoonho settled back into his mother’s arms. 

“He cries for Yoongi too.” Sen offered as a consolation, bouncing the baby lightly. “He’s a momma’s boy.” 

“More like his dad every day.” Jin muttered again, shaking his head sadly. 

“Buin.” Miss In called from the door. “The doctor has arrived.” the woman stepped aside to reveal a different woman dressed professionally with her hair neatly pinned to the top of her head. 

“Buin.” the woman bowed respectfully. “I’m Dr. Yang. I’ll be taking over your prenatal and postnatal care.” 

“Dr. Yang.” she greeted eyeing the woman warily. 

Miss In had done a wonderful job of cleaning the master bedroom and at record speed as well, but the memory of what had happened just the other day was still fresh in everyone’s minds. 

She could tell just by looking at the woman, it was going to be a long day. 

part 10

[awanderingdeal]

Hi Lucy! I just had this idea and I thought you'd do it super well- what about Leo meeting Alex for the first time as Finn's boyfriend (we know he meets him at games, and things, briefly, but I mean a dinner where they invite Alex over when he's in town). We know Lo is comfortable with him but I would love to see nervous Leo and him just getting on SO well with Alex about cooking or smth and Finn is just melting at seeing them bond -aj

Thank you so much for this suggestion, aj! I absolutely adored this prompt. Enjoy!

Rating: G

CW: Food

Credit for all characters and the sweater weather universe belongs to @lumosinlove

"Finn!"

Summoned by the call, Finn appeared in the archway, pulling a deep grey crewneck over his head, his hair still damp and floppy from his shower. "What's up, sweetheart?"

"Does Alex like avocado?" Leo asked, hands poised on a piping bag filled with a bright green mayonnaise. Years of practise keeping his nerves at bay on the ice was the only thing stopping him from shaking. He had just been about to put the bag in the fridge, the mayonnaise ready to be piped onto steaks just before serving, when he'd realised he didn't actually know if Alex was one of the few people on the planet to reject the green fruit. "Please tell me he likes avocado."

Logan stepped behind Finn, the white t-shirt he wore stretched over his muscles as he wrapped his arms around Finn's torso. A small part of Leo's brain was appreciative of the sight, but mostly he just felt overdressed in his button-up, the collar feeling tight around his neck now.

"Alex, just like Harzy, will eat anything you feed him. Garbage cans, the pair of them," Logan laughed, kissing the back of Finn's neck.

"Oh! Because you are such a connoisseur," Finn retorted, spinning around to shove Logan gently. "And I don't eat everything. Pate still tastes like ass."

"You would -"

Leo thought he was going to scream. "Guys! Please, you're not helping." He managed to get the words out with only a small crack.

Le, baby." Finn's eyes widened, looking at Logan quickly before crossing the kitchen. He teased the bag from Leo's hands, placing it carefully on the side and then Leo found himself bundled into Finn's arms. "It's just Alex. You don't need to stress."

"It's just Alex to you," Leo sighed, melting into Finn's hold. "I want to make a good impression. Him and Lo are all buddy-buddy already. I want him to like me."

"He will like you. He already does. I promise," Finn soothed. "It looks like you're finishing up here, tell me and Lo what we can clean up and go change. This isn't a job interview, Nutty. "

Logan squashed himself against Leo's chest, curls tickling his chin. "Relax. Only an idiot wouldn't adore you. And Alex is not an idiot."

***

"Knut," Alex grinned, carrying a stack of desert plates into the kitchen. Leo nearly dislocated his knee he rose from his position bent over the dishwasher so quickly. "How much do I have to pay you to make me another one of those cheesecakes. It was divine. Nearly as good as mom's. And I'm only saying that because I need to retain my title as favourite son."

Leo hoped his cheeks weren't as red as they felt, trying to contain the wide smile at the compliment. Alex had been here for a few hours now and Leo had calmed down a lot, but he hadn't completely ridded the anxious thought that once they were alone Alex would reveal his true feelings.

"Here," Alex held out his stack. "I've been told you're very serious about the art of packing a dishwasher."

"It's a very important business."

Alex leaned against the counter watching Leo load for a minute. "Hey, kid -" Leo raised an eyebrow critically, and Alex showed his palms in surrender. "Alright, not a fan of that nickname. Noted. I was just gonna say I like you a lot. You know, I never thought Finn could ever love anybody as much as he loves Logan." A small noise caught in Leo's throat as he looked up from sorting the cutlery. "But the way he talks about you. The way he looks at you when he thinks nobody is watching."

"I love him a lot too," Leo shrugged. It wasn't apathetic. Leo could never be apathetic about anything to do with Finn. The statement just felt so obvious to him.

"I can tell," Alex smiled, pushing off the counter. "And you seem cool. I'd like to get to know you better. How about next time I'm in town we go and get a coffee or something." He threw his thumb in the direction of the lounge. "Without those two clowns."

"Yeah," Leo nodded, breathing out the last tinges of anxiousness. "That sounds good."

"Alright then," Alex nodded too. "I'll see you back in the lounge. Finn also told me you're the resident Mario Kart champion here?"

Leo snorted a laugh. "That's me."

"Well not for long!" Alex goaded, backing out the kitchen. "Hurry up, Starboy. I've got a game to win."

Starboy. Oh hell no. Leo was going to kill Finn. "We're not doing that nickname either!"