#i didn't know exactly what but i knew he would find something

[shinig6mis]

bakugou katsuki had never known what it meant to feel empty until he lost you.

before you, his world had been loud, filled with fists connecting against bone, the roar of the underground fight ring, the sharp sting of sweat in his eyes as he threw himself into another round, another fight, another way to prove he was the strongest. he was unstoppable. untouchable.

and then one day, you came along. he still remembers the first time he saw you—standing in the dim glow of the underground fight ring, mina at your side, eyes wide as you took everything in, clearly looking like you didn't belong in this scene.

you softened the edges of him, seeped into the cracks he didn’t even know he had. he fought just as hard, bled just as much, but suddenly, there was something else waiting for him after it all. your voice was the first thing he wanted to hear after a match, your hands the only ones he wanted patching him up. and fuck, he’d never needed anyone before, never let himself. but you? you were different. you were home to him.

and then you were gone.

it had been months since the break up. months of sleepless nights and nights he drank too much trying to forget. months of stepping into that ring and scanning the crowd, always looking for your face, knowing deep down that you wouldn’t be there.

he knew it was his fault. you had begged him to stop fighting, pleaded with him after every match when he came back to you with busted knuckles and bloodied lips. “one day you’re not gonna get back up, katsuki,” you had whispered against his shoulder one night, voice thick with worry. “and i won’t be there to watch it happen.”

he had scoffed at the time, muttered some bullshit about how he wasn’t some weakling who would get taken down. his pride has always been his fatal flaw. but you didn’t care about that. you cared about him. you cared too much. and in the end, it was that love you had for him that had made you walk away.

he didn’t blame you for it. but fuck if it didn’t destroy him.

so he threw himself into the fights, let the pain fill the void you left behind. he fought harder. angrier. he turned every match into a battlefield, fists swinging like they could beat the ache out of his chest. it wasn’t even about the rush anymore. it was about punishing himself for letting you go.

he hated that you were still everywhere. in the way he flinched whenever someone pressed too hard on a wound, knowing it wasn’t your touch. in the way his bed felt too fucking big without your body curled up against his. in the way he still looked for you in a room even though he knew he wouldn’t find you.

and tonight, with alcohol burning in his veins, fresh wounds littering his skin, and a hollow ache in his chest that no amount of fighting could fix, he found himself on your doorstep.

he didn’t even remember getting there. all he knew was that the second he sat down against your door, his body slumped with exhaustion, something in him settled. because even if he couldn’t have you, this—just being near you, just existing in the same space—was enough.

when the elevator dinged, and he heard the soft shuffle of your footsteps, he knew before he even saw you.

“bakugou?” your voice was soft and a bit startled.

he forced himself to lift his head, blinking blearily up at you. you looked the same. exactly the fucking same. and it pissed him off, because how was it fair that you got to move on, untouched, while he was stuck here? while he still loved you so much it hurt?

he let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “hey.”

you frowned, taking a step closer, grocery bag shifting in your arms as you took him in—the bruises, the split lip, the haze in his red-rimmed eyes. “what the hell are you doing here?”

he shrugged, but the motion sent a dull throb through his shoulder. “dunno.” his voice came out rough. “just ended up here.”

something flickered across your face. concern, hesitation, or something else he couldn’t name. “get up,” you muttered, unlocking your door. “come inside before someone sees you like this.”

he let you drag him in, the scent of your apartment hitting him all at once. it was the same. it still smelled like you. felt like you. and god, he hated that it still felt like home.

you guided him to the bathroom like you had so many times before. it was muscle memory at this point. he sank down onto the toilet lid without question, watching as you dug through the first aid kit under the sink.

“this isn’t good, bakugou,” you murmured as you pressed a damp cloth to his cheek. “you need stitches.”

he hissed at the sting but didn’t pull away. didn’t take his eyes off you. “don’t need shit.”

you sighed, shaking your head at the fact that he still hasn't changed. “you’re impossible.”

he smirked, but it faded as his gaze dropped to your lips. too close, but still not close enough.

your hands were steady as you worked, but he could feel the tension in your fingers. his face so close and you noticed it too.

his hand found your waist before he could stop himself, fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. you stiffened but didn’t move away.

“take me back.” his voice cracked, and he hated how desperate he sounded.

your breath hitched, eyes flickering with something. was it regret? sadness? he couldn’t tell.

“bakugou…” you whispered. “i can’t.”

it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. he knew the answer before he even asked. but hearing it had the final nail driven into the coffin of what you once had.

his grip on your waist tightened for a second before he let you go, feeling himself fall apart all over again.

but then your hand lifted, fingers grazing the side of his face. it was on instinct, the way he leaned into your touch, chasing it like he was starving for it.

“you need to stop doing this to yourself,” you murmured, thumb tracing lightly over a fresh cut on his cheek. “you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

he let out a bitter laugh. “maybe that’s the point.”

your fingers tightened against his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “don’t say that.”

he blinked at the glassiness in your eyes, the way your lips parted like you wanted to say something else but couldn’t.

and then, before he could stop himself, he surged forward, pressing his forehead against yours.

you inhaled sharply, body going rigid. but you didn’t pull away.

“i love you,” he whispered, voice raw. “fuck, i still love you, y/n. i never stopped.”

your hands moved, sliding into his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp in a way that made his breath hitch.

“you make it so hard to hate you, you know that?”

his lips twitched. “am i supposed to make it easy?”

you let out a shaky laugh, and god, he missed that sound.

your fingers brushed over his cheek again, softer this time. “you need to sleep, katsuki.”

he exhaled through his nose. “not tired.”

“liar.”

he let out a grunt, but when you tugged him up, guiding him toward your bed, he didn’t resist.

and when he finally lay down, when you sat beside him, fingers still tangled in his hair, he let himself believe that he hadn’t lost you completely. just for tonight anyway.

he would let himself have this.

because even if you wouldn’t take him back, even if he was still falling apart without you, at least for now, you were here.

and that was enough.

a/n: sorry if this seems rushed! i wrote this one during an online lecture raaaaghhh but i can't help it 'm such a sucker for soft bakugou >.< so expect more of that soon! <3

© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[allertonhoe]

duking it out - rafe cameron (18+)

summary: when you almost get robbed after a night out, your best friend insists you learn some self-defence from her older brother, who happens to own a gym. you also can't stand each other, but what happens when the two of you are left to your own devices.

content warnings: original afab!reader, obx!universe, enemies to lovers, best friends brother, boxer!rafe, use of petnames (princess, baby), 18+ MDNI - smut, dom!rafe, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, unprotected p in v, minor use of restraint, mirror sex, reader hurts herself/blood tw, mentions of getting robbed/jumped (not by rafe lol), mentions of guns/pepper spray, angsty af

length: 4.2k words

"Will you at least promise me you'll consider it?"

"Sarah, no. I'm not-"

"You almost got mugged. It would give me some peace of mind." she disputes once again, looking at you wearily.

She wasn't exactly wrong. It was a few weeks back while you were walking through Figure 8 on your way home from another wild kegger on the beach. And in the early hours of the morning, the sun having barely risen, some masked Pogue took the opportunity to ambush you.

Luckily, you carried pepper spray on you for this specific reason, blasting it in the culprit's face and sprinting back to your place as fast as you could. But according to your best friend, you should be a bit more prepared if you ever ended up in worse circumstances, god forbid.

"Rafe!" she calls through the house, marching towards the kitchen without even checking to see if you were following. "Can you help me out with this?"

"What are you talking about?" he quizzes, scrunching his face in confusion.

"She doesn't think she needs to learn any self-defense." Sarah clarifies, earning a judgmental scoff from the older boy.

"That's fucking stupid." he corroborates, causing you to glare at him.

"Don't call me stupid." you pout, wishing your well-meaning best friend hadn't dragged her overbearing brother into another one of your predicaments.

Saying you and Rafe didn't get along was an understatement. You couldn't stand him. He was arrogant, and rude, and just completely unbearable. You didn't know how someone as kind and bubbly as Sarah was related to such a nightmare. And along with his dreadful personality, he had a bit of a bad reputation around the island.

Rumours swirled about how he'd been involved in shady business deals or that he was entangled with one of the island's most infamous and menacing gangs. Having gotten into his fair share of fights in high school, which led you back to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"What? Would you rather I lied?" he taunts, unscrewing the cap of whatever sports drink he was holding and taking a sip.

"Enough." Sarah referees. "Besides, you told me you'd help."

"That was before I knew who it was." he antagonizes, not even sparing you a glance.

"Yeah. As much as I'd love an excuse to punch Rafe, I'll have to pass." you acknowledge in a rare moment of compromise.

"Didn't know you liked it rough," he insinuates, rolling your eyes at the innuendo.

"Please." Sarah turns back to you in a pleading manner. "Just some basic stuff. I just want to make sure you don't find yourself in a vulnerable situation again. I hate to agree with him, but it is stupid to turn down learning from, like, one of the best trainers on the island."

Rafe decided after high school that he'd channel his fury and aggressive energy into something more productive, opening his gym up a few years back. And unfortunately, you knew she was probably right. The boxing studio having become one of the hottest spots to work out in Figure 8.

"Don't look so excited, princess. A lot of girls would be jumping at the chance to get free coaching from me." he quips.

"You're not gonna drop this?" you purse your lips at Sarah, her agitation not easing at all. "Fine. Whatever."

"No, if we're doing this, we're doing it my way. My gym." Rafe interjects. "You're gonna be there tomorrow morning at 8. You're gonna come, you're gonna listen to what I tell you, and you're not gonna act like a brat because I'm doing this as a favor for Sarah. Got it?"

With a hesitant nod, the session was set for the next day to your contempt. You were met by the sound of grunts and rustling chains when you entered the facility, finding Rafe at the far side of the room battering a punching bag. Too focused to realize you'd walked in, giving you the opportunity to get a proper look at him.

He wore a fitted white tank and basketball shorts, his sun-kissed skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. His toned arms on full display for you to admire as they tensed every time he hit the cushioned equipment. His signature grimace settled on his features as he beat the hung-up gear like it was personal.

"Fuck," he curses, alarmed once he detected your presence. "Sorry. Have you been here long?" He shrugs off, going for a swig of water.

"Just a minute," you reveal, stepping further into the building, almost feeling as though you weren't supposed to be there.

"Is, uh, that what you're wearing, or were you gonna change?" he surveys, taking in the tight leggings and crop top that clung to you. You shook your head at his question, neither of you knowing how to proceed cordially.

"You don't have to do this, by the way," you mention, giving him one last out.

"Huh?"

"I get you're doing this for Sarah. I can tell her you did if you'd just rather I go..." you offer.

"What? Already trying to run?" he solicits, the typical friction between you arising once again. "I don't mind," he reinforces, relieving some of your apprehension. 

He advised that you stretch a bit first, reluctantly following his lead as he got into what you were sure was his standard routine, somewhat hopeless yourself when it came to working out. An R&B track playing lightly over the speakers, filling the uncomfortable quiet that hung between you two.

You found yourself fixed on Rafe longer than usual, blaming it on the fact that you were trying to mimic his agile movements. There was no denying he was attractive, another trait you found particularly irritating, but seeing him in his element gave you a whole new perspective. He looked incredibly chiseled, a stark contrast to the usual sight of him in shirts that hid his arms, noticing how swole his biceps were with every flex of his.

Once you were finished warming up, he led you towards the practice ring that sat at the back of the gym. Tossing you a pair of boxing gloves and discarding his tank to the side prior to ushering you onto the canvas. Circling the perimeter like he was a shark targeting his prey.

"Are you gonna walk around and stare at me all day, or actually teach me something useful?" you sassed, making him to stop in his tracks with a hardened expression. "I don't have all day, Rafe."

"What happened again?"

"I was, uh, walking home from that party on the beach a few weeks back, and some kid jumped out at me on my way home and tried taking my shit." you recount, Rafe frowning at the story.

"Have you ever learned any self-defense?" he inquires.

"Yeah, I pepper sprayed him and ran the fuck home." you explain, making him snicker.

"And when you don't have that on you?"

"I don't know. My keys? A gun?"

"A gun?" he remarks, amused by your answer.

"Yeah. I could get one of those small ones."

"Sounds like a solid plan, princess."

"I swear, if you're just gonna piss me off-"

"I told you when we agreed to this you can't stand around and bitch at me the entire time." he recalls, not appearing too impressed.

"Then teach me something."

"Fine, let's work on your reaction time."

"My reaction time is fine. I did fight him off." you refute, tired of the constant belittling.

"And how big was this guy? Was he 6'5 and huge, or some shrimpy Pogue that wasn't much taller than you?" he challenges, startled at how accurate the latter description was of your attacker. "You might not get that lucky next time around."

You let him take over from there, watching as he continued walking around the platform menacingly, almost sizing you up in a way. Like you were playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Like there was a hint of something almost suggestive hanging in the air between you.

In any other scenario, you probably would've laughed at how he was stalking towards you. Abruptly diving out to snatch you from the side, making you whip around and instinctively throwing your hands in front of you. Not giving him a chance to grab you properly. Seeming satisfied with your efforts, he stepped back to the edge of the ring to launch into the  next drill.

It all happened so fast. He rushed towards you from behind, your initial impulse being to turn and lunge the other way, not realizing your shoelace had untied. You were in the air for a few seconds, tripping face-first into the mats. An ache immediately rising as you peeled yourself off the floor, almost missing how Rafe was at your side without delay, concern etched on his features.

"Shit."

He scanned you for injuries, quick to fuss over your condition while you were just trying to adjust to his sudden worry towards you. As you caught your breath, it hitched again when he reached out and held your cheek. Growing nervous when you saw his focus drift to your mouth.

"You're bleeding..." he notes, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip. "Don't move."

He dashed over to snag the first-aid kit and hurried back over, chucking it on the ground beside you. Taking your wrists and unfastening the padded protection covering your fists, doing the same with the other. He searched through the small bag, ripping open an antiseptic wipe as he assessed the wound.

"Sit down." he requested, complying to his instruction since you didn't want to cause any more unnecessary chaos. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh, no..." you trail off.

"This might sting..." he tells you as he brought the damp cloth to the cut, instantly hissing at the tender sensation despite his warning. "Sorry," he murmurs remorsefully.

"Don't apologize. It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. You tripped." he reassures dismissively, letting the conversation die rather than feud over it.

The dynamic between you and Rafe was contentious, the two of you always bickering and getting under each other's skin. However, that wasn't the energy you were feeling right now. If anything, it felt a bit charged. Not missing the way his devious smirk reemerged on his lips as he cleaned the gash, the prolonged silence only making you more uneasy.

"What?"

"Only you would manage to get hurt when I'm trying to teach you how to protect yourself." he patronizes, snickering to himself.

You tore yourself out of his grasp, touching the bloody spot and deciding you'd just handle it yourself in the bathroom. Not in the mood to deal with whatever mind games he was playing at. His reflexes were still quicker than yours as he blocked you from getting up.

"Stop being difficult and just let me," he asserts. Not anticipating for him to take your chin to halt your tantrum, his face just a few inches from yours. "Please."

His glance flickered between your eyes and mouth, noting a shift in his expression—one you'd never seen before. Keeping your own on anything but him, no longer able to trust yourself to not do something you know you'll regret. Finding yourself softening under his wary gaze, against your better judgment.

"Why are you helping me?" you finally decide to ask him, the question coming out almost sheepishly.

"Seriously?" he replies, almost seeming offended. "Other than the fact that I was genuinely trying to do you a favour and show you how to defend yourself, and you ended up with a busted lip instead? Maybe I'm just not as much of an asshole as you'd like to believe."

"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead." you feign, falling back into your usual banter.

"Would it really kill you to just be nice to me for a few minutes?" he comments sarcastically, not giving you much room to argue.

"Thanks, I guess." you concede, his signature grin reappearing.

"Sorry, I missed that." he exaggerates, turning his ear towards you to repeat yourself.

"You're such a pain in the ass." you grumble, crossing your arms. "Thank you."

He finished treating the wound, squeezing out some healing cream onto his finger and brushing it across the sensitive area. Your lips parting at the intimate gesture, your eyelids fluttering shut. Keeping them closed to avoid facing the bitter truth that you didn't totally hate being in this compromising position with Rafe.

"At least now you got some battle scars, so no more thugs will mess with you." he declares.

"You can't help yourself." you scold.

"What? I'm just fucking around." he averts, thrown off by your change in demeanor.

"That's the thing with you, Rafe. Do you take anything seriously?" you proclaim, jumping back to your feet and fiddling to shove the gloves back on.

"Yes?"

"You're stubborn and aggravating, and always fuckingaround. You definitely don't take me seriously-"

"What are you even talking about?"

"That's the whole reason I'm here, right? Another free pass so you can give me shit?" you blindly accuse, temper flaring.

"Fuck, do you ever shut up?" he seethes in frustration, caging you in against the ropes as he towered over your figure.

"Move," you demand, nudging the barrier he'd created around you.

"Calm down," he urges you, as if his domineering stance wasn't partially to blame for your distress.

"Rafe," you huff, trying to escape his scrutiny when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders and pinned you back.

"I said calm down." he reiterates.

His piercing glare acted like another physical restraint, simultaneously making you confront the conflicting desires you'd suppressed towards him for years. It was just the easier choice—not wanting to involve yourself with someone so unpredictable or cross the boundary that was your best friend's older brother.

"Why don't you think I take you seriously?" he investigates, surprised that was what he'd hung onto from your rant.

"Are you kidding me right now?" you counter. "You've never been nice to me since I became friends with Sarah."

"Only because you're a fucking know-it-all," he contends, recognizing the teasing in his voice. "Do you think I'd do this for any of the other clowns Sarah hangs around?"

You didn't know what to say to that, trying not to focus on certain details throughout the years. How he'd always been more impartial to you compared to the rest of the group you were usually with. Assuming the pleasantries he'd occasionally throw your way were just another attempt to get on your nerves.

"You make it so easy to rile you up, princess." he remarks, taking the large gloves that were acting like a barrier between you and slipping them off your hands. "And don't try to tell me you don't like it either."

"I... I don't." you falter.

He took your chin and turned you back towards him, but this time there was no reason for it—caressing your jaw and studying you like some priceless piece of art. It was unsettling, the speed at which he was able to switch from tough and threatening to gentle and vigilant. Knowing you'd never seen this side of him in all the years you'd known his sister.

"Try again." he mutters, not letting you get away so fast.

"I don't, Rafe." you insist, trying to keep your tone steady but still lacking conviction—just enough to give you away.

"Then why haven't you pushed me off yet?" he boasts.

"I-" you stutter, considering your next words carefully. "You still haven't taught me shit." you maintain, knowing your response was weak as it came out.

"What's got you so quiet, hm?" he interrogates, basking in your discomfort.

"You're insufferable, do you know that?"

"Maybe. But you still haven't moved."

That's when his lips grazed yours delicately, almost questioning if it was a hallucination. Only knowing it wasn't because of the dull ache from his direct contact on your fresh injury. His icy blue eyes meeting yours in challenge, as if he was daring you to take the inevitable next step. As if he was waiting for your permission.

It felt like you were hit by a tidal wave when you finally kissed him, the faint taste of blood reaching your senses but you were so absorbed by him to even care. Rafe using his tongue to soothe the ripped flesh as he slipped it into your mouth. All of your resistance towards him being disarmed as he kissed you like he'd been wanting to forever.

One of his hands snaked to the bottom of your scalp, threading through your hair; the other sliding to your lower back and pulling you against him. Cradling you to his large physique like he didn't want to let you stray too far, not that you wanted to. While his actions were just as meticulous as his teaching style had been earlier, his execution was still raw and impassioned.

"Are you gonna keep being difficult? Or are you gonna listen to me like a good girl?" he grills hoarsely.

"Are you gonna make it worth my while?" you retort smartly, not wanting to fully surrender control.

He just chuckled as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, the sound making your stomach twist, something you weren't used to feeling in his presence. Extending your nape as he placed a sloppy peck on your skin, lingering to make sure he'd left a mark. The disdain you'd always held towards him now somehow coming off as charming.

"Relax," he cooed, squeezing your waist before yanking your top off.

He discarded the shirt elsewhere, kissing down your torso and along the waistband of your spandex. Hooking his thumbs into the stretchy fabric, peering up at you as he licked his lips, your heart racing in anticipation. Leaving you exposed and disheveled in the middle of the gym, resting on the ropes to find some sort of stability.

"Shit... Can't believe I've kept my hands to myself this long around you," he mused, skimming through your wetness.

"Please Rafe." you whisper, as if the hushed volume of your voice somehow made it all seem less legitimate.

"Can't hear you, princess." he goads, not tearing his gaze from you. You didn't want to give in to his endless provoking, but it was as if he was coaxing it right out of you.

"Rafe, please." you echo, anguish evident from your tone.

"That's it, baby..." he praises, letting two of his digits slip inside you without any warning. "You always this wet around me?"

You instantly melted into his touch, like you were a puppet and he knew the exact strings he needed to pull. Rafe taking advantage of your disoriented state and kissing you again fiercely, the hostility that had built over the years boiling over and getting channeled into your embrace. Grabbing your thigh and hooking it around his waist to give himself better access to you, bringing you into a deeper lust.

He added another finger, immediately giving away that your climax was close as you clenched around him. And then right when your pleasure was about to hit, he withdrew them. A choked whine leaving your throat as he brought them up to his mouth, not daring to tear his attention from you.

"What the fuck?" you protest breathlessly.

Without a word, he took your extended leg, scooping you up with ease and wrapping you around his frame. Bringing you to the middle of the ring and laying you on the ground, looming over you again as he stripped off his pants. Straddling your bottom half, leaving you dumbfounded by how big he was as he pumped himself a few times.

"Told you if you came here, we do this my way. Arms up," he instructs.

As you stretched them over your head, Rafe took both your wrists and held you down. Your heart racing when you realized what he was doing, squirming as you felt him drag himself between your puffy folds. Rocking against him to create any extra friction as he continued to tease you as much as he could, surely revenge for your coldness towards him over the years.

"What's wrong, baby?" he mocks. "Tell me what you want."

"Need you..." you divulge, being met with Rafe's condescending laugh at your pathetic plea.

"You've made that pretty obvious, but that's not gonna be enough right now." he specifies, knowing what he ultimately wanted to hear and too far gone to keep denying yourself of him.

"Please, Rafe. Need you to fuck me." you confess, shuddering when you felt his fat tip circle your core.

"You had a change of heart or something? Not used to you being so nice to me," he revels smugly. "But since you asked so nicely."

You gasped as he slowly buried himself into you, fluttering around him as soon as he sunk into you. Keeping his motions steady and unhurried on purpose, clearly holding back from outwardly demolishing you right away.

You were already close to your high from his initial build-up, falling back into your bliss as he picked up a consistent flow, trembling as he started playing with your swollen clit. The hand he'd bounded you with loosening the more he lost himself in the essence of you.

"Is that why you've always been such a brat? Wanted me to do something about it? Shut you up myself?" he spits.

You clutched his face as his lips found yours again, unable to conceal how enamored you'd become by him. Losing your composure as his hips snapped into you, gawking at how his cock disappeared with every plunge into you. His athletic figure overtaking you without difficulty, looking like he was some Adonis.

"Rafe, I-" you plead, too consumed to even tell him you were reaching your peak, not that he didn't pick up on it.

"Let it out," he grunts, his rhythm unrelentless.

Shockwaves surged through your system as you let out a loud cry, drenching him with your arousal. Rafe pecking across your collarbones and up your neck until he was back at your lips, swallowing every noise you made. The action much more tender than he'd been up until then.

"Turn over," he barks, barely straying from the kiss.

"W-what?" you stammer, still recovering from the first orgasm.

"You heard me. I'm not done with you yet." he reprimands, straightening his posture. "On your knees."

He nodded forward to emphasize his command, eagerly awaiting what he'd do next. Moaning when he pawed at your backside and yanked you closer, not refraining as his palm glided across the flesh. Only noticing that you were facing the row of mirrors that covered one of the walls as you peered up.

He started hammering into you from behind, his technique now rougher from his new angle. You soaked in his reflection, observing how his torso flexed with every thrust, only becoming more turned on by the lewd scene unfolding in the mirror. Drunk off the sensation of Rafe, already knowing this wouldn't be a one-time thing.

"I think I prefer you this way, princess." he purrs into your ear, smacking your ass one more time. "Too fucked out to open that big mouth of yours."

His movements got hastier, but he still managed to pound at angles he hadn't from your previous position. Gripping your waist roughly as he slammed into you, effortlessly hitting your g-spot with every grind of his hips. In disbelief that the man that was fucking you into oblivion was the same guy that you'd written off for so long.

"You gonna cum for me again?" he gloats, lowering his face to hover beside yours.

"Please, Rafe..." you beg, holding his piercing gaze in the mirror, his warmth radiating onto you.

"Who knew you were so damn polite?" he snides, striking your rear one last time. "Gonna let me ruin that pretty pussy?" he growls, mewling desperately at his filthy declaration.

With a few more pumps, he filled you with his own release, not stopping until he was fully satisfied. Coming undone again yourself as he pushed you back over your edge, the only sound filling the silent gym being heavy panting. Your head dropping in front of you as you caught your breath, whimpering when you felt him pull out.

Reality hit you like a ton of bricks as you finally registered what had just happened. Still clouded in your daze as he left featherlight pecks up your spine, doing your best to ignore the sweet gesture. Unsure how to even go forward, regret swiftly replacing your once insatiable hunger, blaming the moment on pure weakness.

"Hey," you hear Rafe utter, meeting his eyes through the reflection. "I can already see those cogs turning, baby..."

"I just..." you hesitate, trying to find the right thing to say when you'd barely processed what was going on.

"You just what, hm?" he drawls, turning your head towards him as he captured your lips with his.

"You're fucking trouble, Cameron." you mumble, giggling softly at the sudden turn of circumstances.

"What? You didn't enjoy your workout?" He implies shamelessly. "Don't act like you weren't into it. And don't think I'm letting you get away so easily either." He playfully accosts you, toppling onto his back and making you squeal as he pulled you back on top of him, passionately kissing you again.

note: suuper long, suuuper dirty 🤭 i wish i was exaggerating when i say ive been editing this for like a month omfg sos my brain is actually rotted lmao. hope you guys like it!! i'm trying to actually write more since i've been making a lot of short-form content sooo please be kind bc i'm still trying to find my bearings again lolol🙈

[angel-of-the-moons]

Agsfgs

He's a god of fertility, among other things

Imagine if Y/N prayed to Khonshu for their own fertility and just

Khonshu appears, offers them help with fertility, he gives them a few options. Just the regular magic method of helping or he physically helps them get pregnant... with his child, of course

Like, hot, but also can you imagine praying to a god, they show up and basically say "okay I can help you the normal way, or we can do this the fun way and make a baby together"

Obviously Y/N agreed to have a kid with him cuz like. C'mon. Look at him

He's of course a very attentive father and partner afterward. He's not blind to the struggle new life brings along with the joy

Okay, okay, I know this isn't exactly what you were picturing but--

Wings of A Prayer

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Infertility problems, mentions of miscarriages, self-doubt, depression, suicidal thoughts, sort of alcoholism, fluff, hinted at sexy times but nothing is pictured, Marc and the boys learn that there's more to the pissy old bird than meets the eye! (Naturally canon-fudging and merging with the comics again) And a major time skip! My personal headcanon that Khonshu looks like Oded Fehr rears its head once more!

A/N: Whew... this one is long! Surprisingly, no smut in this one. But I realized I am sorely lacking on Khonshu fluff since y'all are almost always just as horny for him as I am. I also did some research and... Wow. Some scary stuff. I'm sorry if this strikes a painful chord with some of you. I had to stop writing this a few times and take a break because it was making me tear up.

It had been... horrible, to say the least. Your life had been one giant trainwreck so far. Your heart had been wanting for something for so long, and... Well...

Your apartment was a gray, flat... hollow living space to you. It was lacking in... something. And that something was a giggly, chubby, cuddly little person. You thought about getting a pet, but... there was an itching inside of you. And itching for something--someone--of your own.

You had been living on your own since cutting off contact with your parents; and dating had been an absolutely dog shit experience since your teen years. But as you got older, and your friends all went their separate ways, living their own lives and starting their own families, you realized... You wanted that. To be the home you never really had growing up, a source of unconditional love and understanding.

You weren't stupid--you did your research beforehand, looked into every legal document you could. Instead of getting pregnant, you'd looked into fostering or adoption.

But you just... you couldn't afford it. The cost of adopting would have bankrupt you, and your increasing financial instability as the economy fluctuated was an obvious deterrent for most agencies. The same was for fostering--you simply worked too much to bre as present as they wanted you to be for a foster placement. And it didn't help that your particular neighborhood wasn't... stellar or "perfect" for a growing child.

The worst insult, perhaps, was when you looked into IVF after adoption and fostering were out of the question. It sounded like the best option, and so you went to your doctor. As uncomfortable and relatively invasive as the pelvic exam and tests were, your doctor assured you a pregnancy was easy enough to accomplish with the fertility treatments if you were able to get into a program.

Only... you hadn't. Your insurance wouldn't even cover half of the procedures, and your heart was sinking at the thought of going bankrupt and not being able to afford the child you so desperately wanted.

That was a low blow, but, you knew you still had options. You could get pregnant naturally. The real trick was finding a man who was willing, healthy, and responsible enough to agree to father your child.

As distasteful as sleeping with someone relatively strange to you was, you made the decision to be tactful. You made a profile on a dating website with the clear intentions that you wished to find a partner that was clean of any STIs, drug or alcohol addictions, and wouldn't cause problems for you if the impregnation was successful.

And of course, you assured that should they not wish it, you wouldn't put them on a birth certificate or come after them for child support. It would be difficult, surely, but you knew you could manage. There was always well-fare and WIC to help out with needs, as well as a few charities you could apply to. Your elderly neighbors even agreed to watch over your baby when it was born because they didn't have any grandchildren of their own; and the presence of a baby would brighten up their droll days when you needed the occasional break.

When you found a partner who was ready and willing to commit to your "requirements"--especially the STI tests with you present to be sure they were not lying--you both agreed to meet several times a week at his apartment to get down to business.

You planned your meetings carefully around your ovulatory and menstrual cycles, drank and ate anything that supposedly "boosted fertility"; and took every vitamin under the sun to help ensure it.

And then, you got the most wonderful news. You had been late on your period for nearly two months. Missing the first month wasn't a cause for alarm; after all, you had relatively irregular periods--which your doctor assured were because of stress and diet problems--and you weren't insistent upon a pregnancy test until you began to get sick during random times of the day or night and your body began to ache in places it hadn't before, such as your breasts.

You got your blood tested at your doctor's office and sure enough... you were pregnant! You reached out to the father when you got home, and after some arrangements, he agreed to send an unofficial check to you for the baby at the start of every month, but he wasn't sure if he could promise to be present for their childhood; which worked fine with you. It was more than you expected, anyways.

You immediately began to budget, alongside with the financial aid of the father of your baby, and began to prep your bedroom into a shared nursery for your impending arrival.

And as you were settling into your new routine and adjusted workload, you awoke during one night with intense vomiting. As you perched over your toilet bowl, pain began to radiate from your abdomen and deep into your body and pelvis, like sharp, pulsing, searing pain from inside of you.

It wasn't until you stood up to wash your face and brush your teeth that you realized you were bleeding. Your sleep shorts stained a disturbing shade of red. You immediately panicked; and simply ignoring the cost of an ambulance, you called 911, and phoned the father of your baby as dread began to soak into every pore.

It wasn't for several hours after all the tests and exams that the doctor from the ER finally came in with a sad, pitiful look on her face as she delivered the news.

You lost your baby.

It felt like the world opened up beneath you and you were swallowed by a void. You didn't even know you screamed until your vision went black around the edges; prompting you to take a much-needed breath. The father of your baby was sympathetic, he talked calmly to you, rubbing your back and speaking with the doctors for you while you struggled to cope.

They kept you for another day (after giving you some pill) to make sure you... passed the remains of the fetus so you didn't get sick from retained products of the conception.

You fell into a deep depression after that.

Weeks afterwards, you were a drone. You woke up, ate, worked, showered, slept, and performed the same duties again and again as if you were on autopilot. The father of your baby, Alain, checked in on you now and again, and at some point even introduced you to his new girlfriend (who was confused by the awkward situation at first, but in seeing what had gone wrong in your life, felt more pity towards you than anything).

Your elderly neighbors cried for you, made you food when you felt the absence of the want to cook or eat; and said they would offer up prayers for you.

You began to hide how... rotten you felt on the inside, after that. You feigned your old, "normal" behavior if not to just get everyone to stop treating you like some... Faberge egg that needed delicate handling. A doll so fragile from trauma and abuse you had to be put on a pedestal to avoid getting any more broken.

But deep inside you, that raw, twisted, pained feeling festered like a bad wound. It worsened when you discovered that your doctor had been horribly, profoundly wrong.

Your reproductive organs weren't in "perfect, healthy" shape. You had uterine scarring that appeared to line up with what was called Asherman's Syndrome. Your uterine cavity, as such, had a buildup of scar tissue and caused it to shrink, and the resulting damage is what likely triggered your miscarriage.

The doctor that had diagnosed your condition became suspicious, and called for an investigation into your primary doctor.

Turns out, he was responsible for many, many misdiagnoses on over a dozen patients. Many of which required some women to have hysterectomies done to save them; or have to be rushed into cancer treatments immediately. One had unfortunately lost her life due to a misdiagnosis and a fallopian torsion that wasn't treated in time. She left behind a husband and three little children who had to grow up without their mother.

The resulting lawsuits caused a media circus; and once again your life was thrown into disarray when you decided to be a part of it, having to recite the trauma of losing your poor, little baby to a bunch of strangers.

Your heart festered with rage. If you had known that your body was incapable of the one fucking thing it should have been able to do naturally, that you were one different decision away from the heartbreak you now suffered--you would never had tried to get pregnant. But like many of his patients, you took his word for it because he seemed so trustworthy. And if you couldn't trust the person your health was so reliant upon... who could you trust?

The doctor lost his license, and went to jail for the wrongful death, medical negligence and manslaughter of the woman he failed to properly diagnose and failed to treat.

The settlements were of little comfort to you all; those who suffered now-lifelong health problems, the family mourning a beloved wife and mother... and you, who mourned the life of the baby you never even got to feel kick, let alone name.

Your neighbors, Ebony and Malcolm Harris; Alain and his now-fiance, Amelia, had formed a bit of a cushion around you. Having an explanation for your misfortune, and then the financial boost from the punishment of the one responsible aided the pain somewhat... But it still hurt you so, so much.

Part of the settlement included paid-for counseling for those affected, and you took it. As dry and sour as it felt to yet again revisit the pain, you went through it.

But it still didn't help you when you looked at the toys, the unused clothes and set-up crib still sitting in your room, never to be used.

You spent a lot of time on the roof of your apartment building, contemplating... something. You wouldn't take the pills the doctor gave you. All they did was make you feel groggy and... numb. That felt worse than the guilt and grief, it didn't help.

You weren't sure anything would. You just wanted the pain to stop. You wanted to feel something, again.

You just wanted to be a mother.

"Oh, she's so... she's so..." Ebony sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her handkerchief. Malcolm sat next to her, rubbing her shoulders and sniffling himself. They loved you like their own child. They had none to speak of, since their son died overseas almost 20 years ago. You were the first person whom they felt a familial connection with--who didn't treat them as pitiful, childless old folks who were one bad day away from a nursing home.

"We're so scared for her," Malcolm whispered, pursing his lips. Just like his wife, he loved you like a daughter, too. And seeing you so consumed with pain and want hurt him badly. "She's hurting so badly."

"She wanted to be a mama so badly!" Ebony warbled, her wrinkled hands trembling as her husband held her. "That poor baby just wanted her own baby! She was so excited! Showed us everything, talked about it--I even started knitting a blanket!"

Malcom's own nearly-withered features twisted in sympathetic agony, "Please... is there something--anything--you can do for her? Help her, somehow? Like you helped us?"

The man sitting behind the desk kept his hands linked together as he peered over them at the couple. It was true. He had helped them.

When Ebony grew I'l and eventually required dialysis, her body had been becoming increasingly weak and fragile; they were left without options. They tried prayers with pastors and in churches--but it didn't exactly do much with an absent god ignoring another desperate worshipper.

They were nearing the end of their rope when they heard through some whispers about him--the enigmatic "Dr. Moon".

They had only seen his face once, and that was after Ebony was miraculously cured following his strange "treatments", her kidneys back to functioning better than they had in her early 30s. After that, they attended private prayer sessions with him, the second high priest, after Marc Spector, whom he had only really interacted with a handful of times... And did not like how often he went against their god, Khonshu's word.

Begrudgingly, "Dr. Moon", later known to be one Yehya Badr, had started what would be known as the "Midnight Mission" with Spector. In his constant absence, the two agreed that it would work better if Yehya saw to the Mission while Marc traveled to hunt the cult of Ammit, and Khonshu's former high priest, Arthur Harrow.

And, while watching over the Mission and the innocent people... Yehya used his healing abilities and decided to open a free clinic from within the holy place. Many were hesitant to accept treatment from a religious institution, but soon patients and potential followers alike began to trickle in from the streets. People like Ebony and Malcolm.

Yehya felt for the couple and the story they now told him, his brow creasing beneath his white mask, mouth twisting into a pained frown. You sounded on the brink--ready to take one last hurdle into the beyond for the sake of the child you never got to hold.

"Healing something like that..." Yehya sighed sadly, standing up from his chair. The wheels squeaked softly as he pushed it back, and walked to the window that overlooked the street below. "...it won't be easy. I may not be able to do it alone, like when I treated you, Ebony."

"Can't you--can't you call on Him, again? Like you did before?" Malcolm pleaded earnestly. The love these two elders had for you touched him, made his own heart squeeze in his chest.

"Please... if--if His power can come from love, just--just take ours and give it all to her... please!" Ebony sniffled, burying her face in her hands.

Yehya swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly pulled his mask away from his face, walking over to take their hands in each of his. He could feel their heartache through their frail and gentle grip.

"I will see what I can do. Your faith--and love--might help this young woman you two adore so much. But I cannot predict how Khonshu will help her, should he choose to directly get involved."

Another repetitive day. You managed to force yourself to eat some takeout you had leftover from last night and microwaved that for dinner, eating alone in front of your TV as it droned on with some boring reality show you weren't really paying attention to anymore.

For the eighth time that week you contemplated packing away and donating all the baby items in your apartment. But every time you touched them you just broke down into a sobbing fit; your heart rending itself from the reality of what had gone wrong with you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to go into your bedroom, anymore. Everything was in there.

So, you'd taken to sleeping on your couch for the past few months. You only went into your room long enough to get things you needed, clothes and the like (the former just sitting in clothes hampers unfolded after laundry days) before fleeing in the bland space that was your meager living room.

After you finished eating, you sipped at the hard lemonade in your hand. Drinking to cope was bad, but something inside of you kept you from relying on it too heavily. And you never drank to get drunk; only enough to fuzz your senses enough to let you sleep on some nights.

And tonight was one of those nights.

You were on your fourth lemonade when the lights began to flicker in your apartment; your TV freezing frames when it began. Maybe your landlord was fiddling with the power to the building again?Had a fuse blown to the building? Whatever...

"I don't need this right now..." You grunted, taking a deep swig; one mouthful closer to the bottom of the bottle.

"Wasteful." A disembodied voice rumbled, making a chill creep up your spine.

"I... What--" Your head whipped around as you tried to figure out where it had come from--your TV was still frozen, so it couldn't have been that--you were still relatively sober so it couldn't have possibly been drunken hallucinations.

Suddenly, you jumped and yelled in surprise when the bottle went flying from your hand and smashed to bits on the wall, the drink within running down the drywall in rivulets from the impact.

"What the f--"

"My priest told me of you," The voice hummed. It felt as if something unseen was circling you like a predator does with its prey. "And of the pain you have endured, little one. There are those close to you who pleaded for my aid to help you, to heal you."

You felt the presence stop behind you, crowding you in and making your blood still within you; but you just couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The lights flickered weakly once more before going dead, as did your TV, swallowing you in darkness.

As your eyes adjusted to the inky darkness, this voice's words sunk in. "Heal you". "Help you".

"Who are you?" You swallowed.

"I am the god, Khonshu. I protect the innocent, I bring justice. I heal those that ask for it."

Yeah, no. You must have slipped and hit your head. You remembered Ebony and Malcolm saying they'd pray for you--but this was... this was impossible! But... some aching, gnawing, painful part of your heart begged for you to hear the voice out.

"How could you..." You cleared your throat, trying not to sound as scared as you felt. "How could you help me?"

"That remains to be seen." The voice replied with a thoughtful tone. "How do you wish for me to help you? I was told but precious little of your story--only from those around you. Not from you. What is it you wish my aid for?"

Your eyes slowly move to where you instinctively knew your bedroom door was. Even in the dark, you could feel the depressing aura clinging to the space call out to you like a siren in the black sea. The voice seemed to be able to "see" what you were looking at, as well.

Somehow--this Khonshu knew immediately what you were too scared to voice.

"I see." He told you, his voice growing soft and somber, if a touch sympathetic. His presence leaned away from you.

"You wish for me to heal the damage done inside of you?" He mused gently, "To enable you the ability to bear a child? It is easily enough done; but I sense something else bothering you."

Your hands knotted in the hem of your shirt; your stomach twisting itself into a nasty ball of writhing, anxious snakes.

"I... I can't go through it all, again." You croaked, your voice coming out hoarse. "The stress of finding... I just... I can't. It just... I don't want to--to risk it happening all over again, even if..."

"I see..." He murmurs again, giving you your space to breathe, "Then there may be another option--a guaranteed method--to ensure a healthy pregnancy and a healthy child..."

The way your heart hopefully leapt within your ribcage almost hurt--your stomach dropping into a pit. Sure, you may be going crazy and this could be a hallucination... But would it be so bad to give in, to live in some fantasy to alleviate the pain and grief you've been suffering with for nearly over a year?

"So you... you're... offering to... what, be the father of my baby?" You whispered.

A feather-light touch brushed your arm, the feeling warm and gentle on your skin, "Only if you wish it. I can help you, but only if you want me to. I can heal you, but only if it was what you truly want. When a child is produced, I will ensure there will be no struggles for you and the babe."

"You... promise? That it'll work?"

"I swear it."

You swallowed. Thinking hard.

But some part of you had already made a decision--and that part of you spoke: "Okay."

"Very well, then..." Khonshu murmured.

In the span of a breath, you felt large, warm arms wrap around your waist, tugging you close. And then, the next thing you knew... you were laying on your back, in your bed, with him hovering above your in the dark.

Even with the dim lights in the streets below barely filtering in through your blackout curtains, you couldn't clearly make out his appearance. The shadows that were being cast merely gave you an image that couldn't possibly have been true.

"Can I see you?" You whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Only if you wish it." He reminded you softly, his hand caressing your hip, beginning a slow, sweet trek up beneath your shirt.

"I do."

The dim light of the candle at your bedside table flickered to life--the sweet scent of lavender and vanilla filling your senses.

You finally got to see him. And you weren't afraid.

Marc felt uneasy as soon as they got off the plane, and Layla soothed him with a touch as she linked her fingers with his. He didn't like being here--the city was teeming with cruelty and injustice... and he knew Khonshu wouldn't let him rest long. Him, Steven, or Jake.

"Marc, just breathe." Layla said to him as she adjusted the strap of her travel bag with one hand, her other squeezing his. "It'll be fine. If Khonshu has a problem with you taking it easy--"

Layla scoffed, blowing a puff of air from out of her cheeks as they walked out of the terminal, Marc hauling their suitcases behind him, their wheels squeaking sadly beneath the weight. Some of their less... legal belongings were being smuggled in and would be delivered to their destination later in the night.

"Well, the old bastard can deal with it. I'ma here, and I'll pick up the slack if I gotta." She assured him.

Marc's shoulders sag; he can feel Jake plucking at the edges of his mind, giving him gentle reassurances and his oath that if anything happened; he would be the one to bear the brunt of Khonshu's work in his stead. Even Steven spoke up to voice his assurances that all would be well--after all, they had Layla with them!

"Yeah," He sighed, smiling at her and bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles, "You're right. It's also just..."

"Just..?" She led on, quirking a brow at him.

"The last time Badr and I spoke, it kinda ended in a fist fight." He smiled warily.

"Oh, gods, of course it did..." She snorted.

"I mean, I shattered his nose and he broke one of my knees, so... Yeah. Bad." Marc grinned, earning an elbow to the ribs from his lovely wife.

"Can it, Spector. Don't make me worry about you even more!" She laughed with him.

"Ouch!" A man holding a dry erase board laughed; the writing on his sign clearly stating "SPECTOR" in bold black letters on it. He stood in front of a pristine white car. It was Marc's. Or, well... apparently it was Jake's... A purchase he'd made without Marc's knowledge at some point... like the limo back in London.

Jake would apparently make spare cash when he would take over while Marc slept and Steven lay buried. All without their knowledge, of course...

"Hitting you with the Spectorrrr, is she?" Jean-Paul grinned, his thin, pointed mustache quirking like a fidgety caterpillar. "So cruel!"

"Well, he deserves it." Layla grinned, leaning in to hug him, "Frenchy! So good to see you! How've you been? How's Rob?"

"Happy as a clam in some nice clean water! And my physical therapy has almost concluded." Jean-Paul smiled, kissing each of Layla's cheeks in an affectionate greeting when she asked about his lover.

He lifted his eyes to spot Marc, bringing him in with a closed fist to give a shoulder-hug, "I'm glad you've gotten yourself sorted, Marc. Rob and I were worried about you!"

"As sorted as a guy with two other guys living inside his head that's in service to a pissy god can be, anyways..."

"Ahhh... Right. Right." Jean-Paul said, clicking his teeth as he popped the trunk to the car so Layla and Marc could load their things up. He opened up the back door for them to climb into the backseat."

"Hey, I can always drive us, Duchamp." Marc smirked at him, the corners of his eyes creasing in humor, "After all... it is technically my car."

"No, no--" Jean-Paul grinned, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Let me do it, c'mon. It gives me something to do, today!"

Layla nudged Marc with a giggle and he relented, climbing in behind her.

Marc sighed as Jean-Paul helped them unload their bags, his eyes following Marc and Layla's to the building in front of them; the doors decorated with carved crescent moons in the frosted glass.

He had been to the Midnight Mission only a handful of times--and every one of those times was to assist Marc as his pilot during intense missions for Khonshu. And he of course met Yehya Badr, the two men had a respectful relationship. He himself had conducted a few healing rituals to help with the phantom pains Jean-Paul occasionally felt in his legs.

But he knew that Badr and Marc didn't always get along; Yehya being a die-hard and devout follower of Khonshu and Marc being a bit of a renegade who tended to go against his word and do things his own way. And he knew it had been a few years since the two parted on... well--rather bad terms.

"Well, better get the torture and inevitable lecture over with..." Marc grunted, shouldering one of the duffels. Layla helps gather the rest, letting Jean-Paul close the door and trunk.

As they crossed the threshold, Jean-Paul winced, "Oh, right! There's something you should know about, by the way..."

Marc looked at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Well, Yehya isn't the only one who lives in the Mission anymore." Jean-Paul grinned as their floors squeaked on the waxed marble floors.

"Okay, and...?"

He rubbed his mustache with his index finger, smiling a little bashfully as he looked away. "Well, er... it's kinda... Uh, awkward... Well, I mean, that is--"

"Spit it out, Frenchy." Layla smiled, rolling her eyes.

A door could be heard swinging open from somewhere down the hall as they leave the foyer, and Frenchie laughed, grinning from ear to ear as a small, rambunctious human suddenly appeared, colliding with Marc's legs and wrapping her arms around his legs and giggling.

"Daddy!" She giggled excitedly, rubbing her face on his jeans.

Marc on the other hand, began to immediately panic--his eyes going wide as he looked to Layla, whom in turn looked at Marc with her eyebrows risen the highest on her brow Marc has ever seen--awaiting an explanation.

Marc began to sweat, "Baby, I swear to God I didn't--"

The child looked up at him, and frowned. Her little brows creased and she pouted, her bottom lip poking out as she studied Marc. "...Oh." She said dejectedly, sighing deeply. "You're not my Daddy."

Marc's heart felt like it was gonna explode--Jake and Steven had come to co-front to see what all the fuss and anxiety was about. Steven immediately began to go on about how darling the girl was, her shiny and clear her eyes were--how smart and at the same time seemingly ancient they looked. Like polished obsidian stones, a dazzling array of lights shimmering from somewhere deep within.

Jean-Paul laughed and clapped his hands, his face turning red from the force of his laughter. The child brightened up and rushed towards him, allowing him to scooped her up and swing her in a circle, "Hello, petit gâteau!" He crooned, kissing the girl's cheeks.

"Uncle Frenchy!" She giggled as he swung her around one last time before setting her down.

"Yes, yes, it's been a while! A whole week!" He grinned down at her, letting her hang off of his hand. She swung from it for a moment, studying Marc and Layla curiously, the fabric of her dress flowing almost like water as she did so.

"This is--well, I guess this could technically be your... er..." Jean-Paul smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your big brother Marc? And Layla, his wife."

Marc and Layla's jaws dropped, their confusion and curiosity only growing more and more.

(Oh, this'll be good...) Jake snickered, rubbing his chin. Through their reflections in a nearby portrait, Marc could see Steven elbow him.

'Ay, lay off! We can be curious without bein' rude about it, yeah?' The Brit huffed.

Jean-Paul was about to explain, but...

"Savah!" You sighed in relief, running out to see them. You knew Jean-Paul, from his healing sessions with Yehya and how he loved to babysit your daughter. He was apparently a trusted friend and ally of "Moon Knight's" so you knew he was harmless.

"I... agh. I'm so sorry if she jumped you..." You smiled apologetically at them as you scooped her up, bouncing the tot on your hip as she giggled into her hands. "We were playing hide and seek--and she must have slipped out when I wasn't paying attention!"

Steven couldn't help but squee at how adorable the girl was, Jake had to concede that, yes... she was stinkin' adorable. Even Marc was having a hard time arguing the point, and he was very, very awkward with kids.

"Savah, it's one thing to go up and hug your Uncle Frenchy, but it's another to go up to strangers you don't know." You say, gently scolding her. Her little grin falters, and she frowns cutely.

"I felt it... I thought it was Daddy..." She mumbled, plucking at one of the buttons in your blouse.

"Felt" it?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and looking back at Marc and Layla.

"Right! That brings us to the introductions, eh?" Jean-Paul spoke up, rubbing his hands together. "This is Layla el Faouly--er, well, actually Spector now, ain't it?--and Marc Spector, her husband. He's the Moon Knight."

Marc jumped, his eyes going wide at how casually Jean-Paul had introduced him with his mystical alter-ego, barely even registering it when he introduced you by name; "And this lovely little bon bon, is Savah, her daughter."

"Ohhhh..." You said, your posture relaxing, "That's why she got her "funny" feeling! Sorry, she thought you were her dad."

"I, uh... No harm no foul, but..." Marc laughed nervously, smoothing his hair back, "I could've lived without the heart attack of me possibly blacking out and oops'ing a baby with somebody at some point in time..."

Layla actually laughed, "Oh, please... like you have game with anyone but me, Marc."

He looked at Layla and deadpanned; "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised at how many people swoon for Jake's "Spanish charm"."

You blinked, looking at Jean-Paul for an explanation, and he gestured to continue down the hall, "Ah... let's go and... get some tea, hm? Explain a little bit."

"Right, right, I've never actually met this one." You reply, nodding.

"Mhmm, and he definitely doesn't know about you."

Basic introductions happened over warm cups of tea in one of the furnished rooms off the foyer. Badr had shaken hands with Marc, surprisingly polite and almost friendly before he briefly turned his attention to little Savah, helping fix her doll she had accidentally popped the leg off of when she got too rough, and ruffled her hair before leaving once more.

However... Jean-Paul had yet to fully introduce the two of you to the couple. He mostly let Marc and Layla explain who they were, and what they had been doing. Since obviously, you were so trusted as to even know about Yehya's identity as Hunter's Moon; they trusted to tell you about hunting Ammit, and ultimately defeating her.

It was less than an half an hour after that, that Savah suddenly perked up again, hopping up and down into place, her eyes sparkling even brighter. The glimmering lights in her dark depths caught Marc's attention, stopping him dead in the middle of his sentence, "Uh..."

"Oh... look's like he's home after all... wonder what he was waiting for?" You muse, smiling at your daughter happily, watching her as she ran to the door when it began to open.

A man walked in, then; with tanned ski, graying black hair, and a short beard walked in; his white suit crisp and immaculate. His hazel eyes were stern, his chiseled features only softening as Savah rushed up to him, holding her arms up expectantly until he picked her up and cradled her body gently against his, kissing her forehead gently.

"Daddy!" She squealed, giggling as she tried to wrap her tiny arms around him. It was now pointedly obvious this man was indeed to be her father--especially because of how many of his facial aspects she had. She had your skin tone and hair color, but certainly had his looks...

You rose from your cushioned seat and walked over to them, brushing your nose affectionately against his with a smile as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

"See? See?" Savah said excitedly, grinning like mad. "I told you I felt Daddy! I always do!"

"Yeah, you do, munchkin. Yeah, you do." You snorted, shaking your head.

Jean-Paul cleared his throat and awkwardly stepped around the three of you; "Well... I guess I don't have to do the rest of the introductions after all... I'll see you two later!"

"Bye bye!" Savah called out to him as the door shut with a faint click behind him.

Savah's father looked at Marc with a rather bored expression, almost... annoyed, really. Gave Layla the same look, as well. Marc rolled his shoulder stiffly, suddenly very uncomfortable under his unflinching gaze.

"It took the both of you long enough to get here." He said in almost a sneer; his voice unmistakably, painfully familiar.

Layla and Marc shot to their feet, almost falling over themselves as the realization dawned on them. Jake and Steven were in an uproar within Marc's mind.

"Khonshu?!" They both cried.

His brow quirked upward in an unimpressed gesture, "Gah. How can you two be so perceptive when hunting artifacts and evildoers, but cannot pick up on this? I am disappointed in you, Marc. You should have figured it out, first."

"Th-that's why her... her eyes--?!" He sputtered.

Finally, the corner of Khonshu's mouth tilts upwards in a cocky smirk; his eyes flashed an almost blinding white. And when Savah looked at the both of them, they could see the lights in her eyes swirl and shine even brighter in tune with Khonshu's, shifting and dancing until they briefly solidified in an unmistakable crescent-shape before parting in a fractured dance, again.

"Yes, this is my daughter." He stated proudly, his arm tightening around you a fraction, "And my wife."

"Wife, huh? When did that happen?" You snorted, giving him a snarky look.

"I assumed it happened sometime after Savah was born." He hummed, his snark matching your own, "After all, you live under my roof, mother my child, sleep in our bed..."

You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, "Smartass."

You looked at the couple across the room and smiled awkwardly, "I never did get to explain much... But, since that's outta the way... mind explaining to me why there's such a weird vibe in the room, right now?"

Marc and Layla merely blinked at you, before once again exclaiming in unison:

"You had Khonshu's god-baby?!"

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 8>

word count: 2.5K

Roman's POV:

These were the most painful four days of my life cause I wanted Thursday to come very fastly and see Sophia again.

I mean during the past few days we chatted and we even spoke on the phone to discuss the script for Friday but I still wanted to see her so bad.

Who would have thought I will feel like this?

I have been in relationships before. Hell, I was even married but I have never felt such a suffocating desire to see a woman again.

I can't help but wonder what has Soph been into these days - she was training, visited Paul, met some friends and went to her old workplace. That's what I know basically.

What I wanna know is has she been thinking about me. Just for a single second even.

I don't know but after this little weekend we are gonna have in Georgia, she is going to.

I have planned everything until the last detail.

Sophia's POV:

One of the things I hate most has to be packing due to the fact that I never know what to bring hence I end up overpacking.

Today is no different.

I don't know what to wear during my three-day trip to Atlanta. Roman could have planned anything. I only know he is taking me to his college.

Of course, I asked him what clothes to prepare and he said whatever I like plus swimsuit. He added if I need anything he will buy it for me, oh lord.

Another thing is that mom has been acting weirdly because she doesn't know how to feel about the thing that's going on with me and Roman.

I thought the problem was the age difference but she said that's the least of the problem while she refuses to explain what bothers her.

Whatever.

If she knew me, she would know I have never let a man deceive me and I never will.

"Is he picking you up?" her voice startled me since I thought I was alone.

"Of course." I replied as I zipped my medium-sized suitcase. Eventually, I decided to put my outfit for Smackdown, an elegant outfit, a sports outfit in case we train, pajamas and one casual outfit. I hope this is gonna be enough.

Right now I am wearing a baby pink knitted sweater and light blue jeans.

"Be careful." mom warned me and I looked at her with something close to irritation.

"Mom, I know what I'm doing." I simply said and I grabbed my suitcase.

"No, I don't think you do. Trust me when I say I know men like him." okay now I am confused.

"You do?" I cocked my eyebrow in suspicion.

"I used to date an athlete even way more famous than him. These men would make you believe you are the one but will replace you the second they see someone else...not necessarily prettier or more successful. Don't you find it weird how he is going after you just a bit after his divorce?" mom had her arms crossed.

"It's not a bit after. It's been months. Also, I recently ended a relationship as well, so I don't see where the problem is." I replied with the exact same tone she was speaking to me. "And I wonder who was the lucky athlete you sweeped over."

"This doesn't matter right now. What matters is you should be careful because Roman either sees you as a one-night or a wife. No in between for a man his age." I hate how mom is so judgemental always and I hate that I got this from her because this is exactly how I talk about men as a whole. However, I don't think Roman sees me as a one-night stand.

"Oh, so I assume you were a one-night for the athlete, is that so?"

"Worse. The mistress." she said and my jaw hit the floor. "I didn't know I was at first. The second I found out, I cut him off. Yes, he was married to an older woman back then and he used me as an escape. Secret rendezvous." I could sense the bitterness in my mom. She doesn't seem pretty over this.

"You know the pretty blonde woman, med student with my curvy body." mom in the 90s was probably the hottest chick to exist and the fact she was a med student I can only imagine the line of guys that she has rejected. Probably even bigger than mine.

"I wanna know who that man was." I said as I put my finger on my mouth waiting for the gossip.

"That's not the point, Sophia. Did you understand what I mean?" she got genuinely pissed off.

"Yeah, yeah. I will be careful, I promise. Who was he?" I won't give up until I find out. "Please mom, tell me." I begged her as I put my two hands together.

She just sighed.

"Remember when you were in elementary school you wanted me to buy you Jordans because your friend told you that they make you run fast?" mom took me back in my childhood days.

I do remember that I wanted Jordans so much but she didn't buy ones for me and that was the biggest lightbulb I just had - loudest as well.

"Michael Jordan?!" I gasped. "No way." I couldn't believe what she just told me. Michael Jordan?

"Unfortunately." mom nodded her head and pressed her lips.

"Did father know?" my eyes are still wide open.

"No. No one knows this and it better stays that way." she warned me and I just zipped my mouth.

"Now do you understand why I am so worried? Roman is divorced but we have to be sure he wants to keep you for long." she advised me and I nodded my head.

"These days you have to observe him really carefully. Every action is a sign. If he tries to get you in bed, the answer is clear. He just wants you physically." she is really giving me instructions as if I am a teenage girl and not a woman that is approaching her late 20s.

"I know that already, mom. Do you have any idea how many guys I have rejected in my life just because I could see right through them?" I asked her rhetorically.

"Probably more than me." she muttered but I heard her.

"Is the lecture over already?" I asked with annoyance.

"It is." she replied and came to hug me.

"You know I love you so much and you can't be mad at me that I want the best for you." she spoke.

"I love you too." I responded quietly.

...

As I went outside and saw Roman resting on the familiar black Lamborghini, I felt a bit puzzled since I expected him to come with the bus as he claimed he always does when he travels for work.

The second he saw me carrying the suitcase, he reached to me to grab it.

"That much stuff for 3 days?" he seemed surprised.

"Tribal Chief didn't give me much directions about the plans, so I have to be prepared." I snapped back and he laughed.

"I want it to be a surprise." Roman declared with a smirk forming on his mouth.

"And I already am. Why are we with the car?" we got to the car and he put my suitcase in the trunk.

"Because we are going with the jet." he replied. "We are gonna stay in a hotel."

He booked a hotel?!

"What about Jimmy and Solo?"

"They are coming tomorrow with the jet and then they leave after the show."

So he planned to be just us two?

"Alright." I just responded but I could feel tensing up inside. What if mom was right?

Why is he booking a hotel for three days? Also, we are definitely gonna share a room and a bedroom.

"The room is with two beds in case you are wondering." did he just hear my thoughts or I'm just that obvious. He got in the car and I followed him getting into the passenger seat.

"I figured." I laughed slightly, completely lying.

"Unless it goes like in the movies and the receptionist tells us that there was a mistake." Roman added and I could feel the grin on his face, so I turned around to confirm for myself.

"I kick a lot in my sleep, just saying." I warned him and he furrowed his eyebrows.

"You are saying this to a professional wrestler. I get paid to be kicked by people and to kick people too." he turned on the engine and we took off.

...

When Roman said he is taking me to a hotel, he definitely did not specify it's one of the most expensive ones in Atlanta.

The interior is an insane work. Imagine contemporary vintage design. I know it sounds crazy but that's how I would describe it.

Everything is made of marble - the walls and the floors and there are crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling while the spinning door is made of gold.

After we checked in, we headed to our room as we passed by the stairs in front of which there is a stone sculpture of a lion.

We are in the elevator which can store a lot of people and luggage if needed.

"I am speechless." I finally spoke and he laughed.

"Coming from you? That has to be the biggest compliment ever." he stated and the elevator stopped and opened to our floor. "Now let's see the room".

Once the room was revealed to me, I tried to keep my jaw still but I'm not completely sure did I succeed.

It's definitely more on the contemporary side compared to the reception but it's amazing. It is very spacious too - not just a room but quarduple room with two queen sized beds which are very close to each other.

There is a big TV in front of them, a coffee table, a sofa too as well as two windows with an amazing view of the city.

I couldn't help but head fastly to check the bathroom and it has a spacious shower cabin that would fit me and Roman just fine.

Not that we are taking a shower together.

Two enormous mirrors with LED lights and two enormous sinks where I can put my whole makeup and skincare if I want to.

I turned around to get out but I saw Roman was looking as well.

I just hugged him abruptly.

"This is amazing." I squealed. He put his hand on my waist and I could feel his heart almost going in mine from the beat. Not gonna lie, it feels good to be in his arms.

"I'm glad you like it." he replied and then I broke the hug until it starts to get awkward. "Okay, so now it's..." he looked at his watch that probably costs my wardrobe. "...dinner time. Are you hungry?" he looked back at me.

"Just a little." I responded.

"Great. I will order room service, you can go shower, then I will. After that we have dinner and we head to Georgia Tech. How does that sound?"

Oh, he really has planned everything. That's such a rare sight to see nowadays with younger men.

"Perfect." I replied.

"What do you want to eat?"

"Whatever a pro-athlete eats." I simply replied and he shook his head.

"Okay then when you look at the menu, whatever catches your eyes or if you see your favorite dish, order it for me as well." I finalised my words.

"You are a slick lady." Roman concluded as he raised his index finger and started shaking his hand like a typical dad.

"The best way to get to know somebody is through his favorite dish." I spoke wisely.

"Who said that?" he seemed confused.

"Me." I just replied and went to the beds to grab my towel.

"The wisdom herself. My bad." he said and I looked at him jauntily.

"Did you know that in the Bible the female personification of wisdom is called Sophia?" I asked him another unhinged fact.

"I know. And did you know that Joseph means 'God shall add'?" he asked me back.

"Great leader since very young age, revives Egypt from the famine and reconciling with his family." I added the things that I know. He really represents his name well. "Just like you revived WWE from the COVID era." I reached a realisation.

"And sticking to my family no matter what." Roman added.

"We could definitely use that in a promo." I concluded as I grabbed my clothes.

...

After the warm shower I just had I did my usual skin care routine, styled my hair and dressed up for the date. Since we are going to his old university, I think the casual outfit would be perfect for the occasion - light beige long tight off shoulder dress.

Makeup is gonna be saved for last since Roman is probably hungry and wants to go in the shower too. I tried to be as fast as possible.

As I went out I saw him just finishing putting the food on the table. Once he looked at me his jaw dropped a bit.

Roman's POV:

Sophia is a real-life Barbie doll. There is no way she is a real person.

The way the dress highlights her pear-shaped body figure drives me mad. She is literally shaped like a goddess plus her voluminous natural blonde hair and I believe she has no makeup as of now since she looks like an angel from heaven.

Barbie, goddess and angel.

That's Sophia in a nutshell.

"Hope you didn't starve." she said nervously.

"What? I suddenly forgot I'm hungry." I looked her up once again and she laughed. "The dinner came a while ago by the way so no worries." I assured her and she goy close to the table.

"So this is my favorite dish - fillet mignon with baby carrots and broccoli." I presented it to her. "Hope you like beef." I suddenly became concerned.

"I do. I eat everything." she assured me and I was honestly surprised cause women usually either don't eat any meat or no dairy or don't eat at all.

"Everything?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes, not a picky eater at all, also I'm not allergic to anything." she sat as I made her a sign to sit.

"This is very delicious." Sophia stated as she tried the meal. "Okay, I see why it's your favorite." even the way she holds the cutlery, the way she takes a bite and chews, everything about this woman is feminine and that's why she is under my skin.

"I am glad you like it." I responded with a soft smile. "Next time, however, it will be your turn to pick the dish, okay?" I made a condition. It's cute that she trusts me with my taste and opinion but I still wanna know hers as well.

"Deal." she replied and cut another piece of the fillet.

[darkpuppysuit]

CHAPTER 4

Pairing: Hyrbid!BTSxReader

Words: 8.5k

Warnings: Smoking and Cursing

A/n: This took me forever to edit I hope y'all like it!

For the next four days Y/n had a very clingy wolf hybrid for a shadow. Namjoon refused to leave her side after that night, nudging her hips with his when they would pass each other in the house. It made Y/n smile knowing Namjoon was feeling a lot better, hell, he practically glowed at this point.

The wolf hybrid walks up behind her pressing his chest against her back while she stood in the kitchen chopping some onions to put in the crockpot for dinner later tonight. "Y/n?" Namjoon nudges her shoulder with his chin while Seokjin did his best to move around the wolf trying to get lunch prepared.

Y/n hummed in response to him saying her name. "What is it Joon?" She asks absently scraping the onion into a nearby bowl. Namjoon's chest rumbles against her as he thinks about how to phrase his question for her. "Nothing, actually- nevermind forget I said anything." The wolf hybrid releases her when he sees Seokjin glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

Seokjin hasn't been the only one a little jealous of the way the wolf clung to Y/n like a baby koala to it's mother. Hoseok and Jimin were a little irritated with how much time they were spending together, after all they knew exactly what was wrong with him from the start.

Meanwhile Taehyung and Yoongi were practically avoiding them all together like the plague. Barely ever coming down for breakfast or dinner the last few days, only coming out of their rooms if they needed something on their own terms.

Jungkook could care less that all of this was happening as he spent most of his time outside of the house that smelled heavily of the displeasing scents of envy and jealousy between the six of them that hovered around the house.

The next day went smoothly, Y/n was at the stables with Jimin and Jungkook trying to convince Dove to come out of her stall. "Come on Dovey, Jimin's here, you love Jimin!" Y/n attempts to convince the mare to come out by cooing at her and gently pulling on her harness. Jimin even tried scratching under her chin the way she liked so much but she just huffed at the trio in annoyance. "I guess we'll just have to try another time then." 

Later in the day Y/n walked through the kitchen and to the back porch to find Taehyung sitting in the hammock taking pictures of the evening sky with the old camera he had found. She didn't want to disturb him so she quietly walked down the stairs to the small flower beds around the porch Hoseok and Yoongi helped her put in earlier in the week.

Taehyung notices her take the final step off the porch and smiles to himself. After he had experienced her, for lack of a better word wild side a few days back he began to develop feelings for Y/n, he knew he probably shouldn't let himself get caught up in something as silly as hybrid and human relationships not to mention the promise he made to the others to share her. Taehyung shakes his head then takes a deep breath and sighs before quietly, his little white ears flicking around nervously, making his way down the porch steps to Y/n who was tending to the blooming flower bushes just in front of the house.

Taehyung musters up all the courage he had before he finally opened up his mouth to speak. "H-Hey Y/n I have a question for you. Uh, well a few actually." He stammers mentally cursing himself for the nerves but as Y/n looked up at him with her gorgeous eyes that shine brightly in the sun he couldn't help but smile down at her. His cheeks turn a light pink as she looks up at him with her adorable smile.

"Sure Tae what's up?" She says with a smile, Taehyung wrings his hands together before speaking again. "Listen about the other night--" Y/n coughs clearing her throat, effectively making the white tiger hybrid shut his mouth a little startled by her. "Oh, that uhm-- blame it on the alcohol. I shouldn't have done that to you in the first place and I'm really sorry for making you uncomfortable..." Y/n cheeks are red as crimson by this point and she can't look up at her hybrid again without getting embarrassed by her own drunken actions. 

Taehyung pauses with his mouth open as he was getting ready to ask her his questions but instead he whips his head around and sniffs the air for a moment, his eyes turning a pale shade of blue almost silver when he does. "Tae? Earth to Taehyung?" Y/n waves her hand in front of his face only for Taehyung to instinctively nip at her hand then he blinks and comes back the moment he nips at her. "S-Sorry about that, I just-- there's a new scent and I don't like it." Taehyung states plainly like it was the most normal thing in the world. Y/n only now noticed the little hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and a low chuff in warning slipping from his lips as if he was threatened. 

The sound of gravel crunching under heavy boots from the driveway was enough to catch Y/n's attention, especially when there was a knock on the wooden gate leading to the backyard. Y/n stands to her feet and brushes her hands off on her jeans before opening the gate to a very tall, well built man with long salt and pepper hair, adorning leather clothing and jacket. He was obviously older than her and most likely the rest of them as well but man if he was old there was no indication of him looking or acting his age that's for sure.

"Michael Maibery, what on earth are you doing back in town?" She yells with a smile giving the large man a big hug with a smile on her face, wrapping her arms around his neck happily. "I was just passing through and thought I'd stop by to see my favorite girl while I was here." He chuckles hugging her back just as tightly before letting go. "Look at how much you've grown! Last time I saw you I believe you were barely starting high school." 

The pair laugh with each other and catch up for a few more minutes before a deep growl can be heard from behind her. Y/n quickly turns around to see both her tiger and panther hybrid on the back porch with their arms crossed staring at the pair of them. "Uh before we continue to catch up, I would like to introduce you to my boys." 

Taehyung's heart skips a beat when she refers to them as her boys not the guys like she used to when they first started living at the farm with her. The strange man walked alongside her and onto the porch. His large stature a cause for intimidation but he's offered a seat and sits down. "Your boys huh?" Michael says shortly with a chuckle making Y/n blush only now realizing the words that had come out of her mouth.

"Y-Yeah my boys. They came in with the storm a few months or so ago and I just couldn't let them go back to being strays. My worst fear for any stray hybrid is Hybrid Control. They're anything but pleasant especially with exotic hybrids."  Y/n says sheepishly as Taehyung and Yoongi eye the stranger dangerously.

"Taehyung- Yoongi this is Michael Maibery, he was an old friend of my mothers growing up and he was there for me a lot when I moved in with my grandparents." Y/n spoke factly to the pair, she had hoped one of them would be civil enough to at least take the hand Michael had outstretched for one of them to take.

"I see these two aren't ones for a handshake. Noted." Michael chuckles before dropping his hand to his lap. "I see you've got the farm almost completely redone." He says awkwardly trying to shake off the odd feeling of being watched from behind before the sliding glass door is pulled open and Jimin comes rushing out and starts sniffing the new man with his tail wagging behind him.

"Who is this? He smells good, not to mention how handsome he is. Is that your bike out front? Y/n how come you never told us about-" The golden retriever speaks ninety to nothing with a bright smile on his face. "Okay Jimin, hold up a second- this is Michael he was an old friend of my mothers." 

Y/n struggles with prying the hyper dog hybrid off of Michael and calming him down beside her, holding tightly onto his waist. Michael sits smiling and laughing at the pair of them when Y/n speaks into Jimin's ear causing the poor guy's cheeks to go red for what reason he had no idea.

"I'm sorry for coming on so strong. I smelled you when you pulled up and I guess I got excited to meet someone who had a familiar scent to Y/n's." Jimin mumbled, Michael and Y/n exchange confused glances towards each other before returning to their previous conversation. 

"Oh to answer you, uh, yeah the boys really have helped me put things back together out here and the sunflowers are doing amazing as always. Yoongi and Hoseok, he's the red fox hybrid of mine... they helped me set up the flowerbeds by the porch a few weeks ago. The seven of them are handy in their own little ways, I guess."

Michael took a deep breath in through his nose, his wide baby blue eyes staring at her and the three hybrids currently outside. Jimin's tail had stopped thumping on the porch bench and he looked rather nervous, Taehyung's ear twitched as he looked anywhere but at the man and Yoongi just scowled at him his tail swishing around pointedly and one ear twitching like mad. 

"Seven? Are they all feline inclined? Well, except Jimin obviously." Michael smiled at him, giving him a scratch behind his ears. Jimin couldn't help but preen under his gaze as his tail resumed it's thumping against the outdoor couch.

Y/n was silent for a few seconds trying to figure out a way to explain to him that only one of her hybrids was domesticated, one was a prey hybrid and the rest were apex predators. Although Jungkook didn't put himself off as prey given his strong stature and the aura of fuck around and find out surrounding him on the daily.

"Uhm, well, n-no." Y/n voice comes out hesitantly and high pitched as she looks at Michael with a please don't judge me or them facial expression. "I have one domesticated, which would be Jimin here and six- uhm exotic hybrids. Five of which are predators and one that's p-prey. Although you wouldn't guess he was a prey hybrid if it wasn't for the antlers on his head." 

Y/n chuckles and releases her grasp on Jimin's waist and he jumps over to the other seat beside Michael without hesitation. He crosses his legs over the other as a bead of sweat trickles down his forehead and disappears under his shirt. "You have a deer hybrid? Aren't they extremely skittish and tend to run off a lot?"

Before Y/n could even open her mouth to correct him the doors to the back porch slide open for a final time as the last four of her hybrids tumble out of the house, Jungkook leading them outside and lighting a cigarette. "Alaskan Yukon Moose actually, I wouldn't survive as a deer if I'm being honest. Domestic or wild doesn't matter. What I want to know is why you smell so damn familiar." Jungkook grunts taking a long drag off his cigarette.

Michael shifts in his seat awkwardly glancing between Jungkook and Y/n practically begging her to save him. "Jungkook why do you have to be so blunt when you speak? It's like nails on a chalk board every time you open your fucking mouth." Yoongi growls his eyes flitted yellow towards the hybrid across the patio which only made Jungkook's small grin grow by the second. 

"Awe did I get under the kitties skin? It's an honest question and I'm sure everyone here wants to know why he smells just like Y/n 'cause I know I do- not my fault no one else is willing to fucking ask." Jungkook points between Y/n and Michael before he grunts again this time low and menacing as Yoongi hisses back at him. "Oh I'll get under your skin here in a fucking minute you over grown piece of meat."

"Hey now if you two want to fight you can take it to the stables! I will not have you two beaten and bloody on my porch! Do you understand me?" Y/n stands and barks at the hybrids causing everybody even Namjoon to flinch a little bit when she yelled over the pair of them arguing.

Jungkooks scoffs and rolls his eyes as Yoongi shuffles back inside pissed and ready to boil over in anger- slamming the glass door in the process making it shake with force. Y/n sits back down, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "I'm sorry I don't know what's gotten into them all of the sudden." 

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck glancing at Namjoon for a second before apologizing with his round eyes. Y/n pats him on the shoulder, telling him it was alright and to not think about it too much. 

"I see you've got your hands full. Nothing you can't handle though, right? You've always been the tough girl growing up." Michael chuckles and stands from the bench taking a few steps off the patio. "Where are you going?" Y/n stands quickly making the six hybrids shuffle a few paces after her. Michael turns back to the seven of them when he notices the panther staring from the kitchen window. "I know you're going to be well taken care of with these guys so, ain't really a reason for me to stay much longer."

Y/n is taken aback by his words, she hasn't seen him in years since her grandpa died and now he's just going to up and leave? "Will you stay for dinner? At least, please? I haven't seen you in forever and I would like to do introductions properly if I can?"

As the day went on both Taehyung and Yoongi stayed close to her side as much as they could. Seokjin helped her with dinner as per usual as if nothing was different between the two of them. Namjoon and Jungkook mainly stayed in the living room watching whatever was on the television. Hoseok and Jimin stayed outside to play catch to get rid of some of their energy before dinner. 

Dinner went smoothly as it could only a few arguments here and there. Yoongi ate his dinner in his room, Y/n had to leave his plate next to the door because he refused to answer, only giving her a grunt to acknowledge she was there.

Yoongi's reaction earlier made Y/n a little upset, she didn't mean to snap at him like that, she was just caught up in the moment and didn't want a fight on her hands. Not like she could have done much to pry the two of them apart if they did get into a fight. It made her feel angry but also hurt at the same time.

Any of her hybrids hurting anyone or each other made her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. She had grown attached to each of them and would hate to lose them just because of an argument or fight that could've been handled differently. 

The boys occupy themselves downstairs watching a movie meanwhile I sit in my room upstairs on my bed reading a book, or at least trying to. Having Michael over and the constant questions and lingering stares especially from Namjoon and Jungkook was enough to bristle the little hairs on the back of my neck the entire time he was here. They obviously suspected something that I didn't, never really thought of it if I'm being honest. Not to mention Yoongi holing himself up in his room since his little tiff with the moose hybrid. 

Yoongi has been on edge for a while which doesn't do anything for my nerves about his well being. Hybrid or not Yoongi and the other six are under my care for as long as they want it and the fact that scenting is a thing for them, makes me wonder if Yoongi needs the same thing right now. Well maybe not right now, I figure whenever one of them needs something like that, something that seems so intimate to me but maybe something so natural to them I'll leave it to them because the last thing I want to see is one of them looking as sickly as Namjoon did a few days ago.

A few moments drag by as I attempt to resume my reading when a soft knock comes from my bedroom door. It slowly creaks open and I remind myself to fix the hinges at some point. Then within a second a pair of white striped ears poke around the door before a pair of dark orbs land on my figure curled in bed with an interesting choice of book. 

Taehyung looks around the room seemingly waiting to be invited in but before I can give him the okay the flash of a golden tail tackles me onto my back. "Y/n you missed it! We were watching the Notebook and Yoongi hyung actually came down-" Jimin cuts himself off, his tail going ramrod stiff and looks over at Taehyung who chuffs loudly, hanging out by the door with his arms crossed looking between the pair of us. "We just wanted to come by and say goodnight before we head off to bed. Also Yoongi is looking for you, he's sitting in the living room." 

Taehyung looks at Jimin with a passing glance before looking back to me, his gaze lingering and his mind wandering back to the night of the bonfire. She was so close yet so far from him, it ignited a fire within him he didn't know was there and when Michael decided to show up, it took everything he had not to thoroughly scent her and stick to Y/n like he owned her even though he knew it was the other way around. 

"Oh okay well, I'll be down there in a minute. Jiminie, I need you off of me babes." I look at the golden retriever hybrid with a shy smile before he kisses my forehead absently with a wag of his beautiful tail, he hops off of me and curling into Taehyung's side and he closes the door behind them.

I take a moment to collect myself, just what have I gotten myself into with these seven hybrids? These seven men? My mother would have gone a long with my decisions and been supportive with whatever I decided to do yet my father however always thought hybrids were nothing more than their animals.

I hated that about him, I remember one time when I was barely thirteen my father took me to the store for some beer and crappy snacks for his friends coming over later that day. I usually always kept my head down to keep my father from lashing out at me. I kept my arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times as they say.

But then after a while of walking down the bread and snack aisle I heard laughing and little snickers from a family next to us. I looked up while my father wasn't paying attention to see a little boy playing with a bunny hybrid, they looked about the same age at the time but she was taller than him. They were play fighting while the mother looked through the different snacks, a tiny bunny hybrid in the cart chewing on a half eaten celery stick while the bunny hybrid mother talked with the mother of the little boy.

They seemed like a really happy little family, all smiles and bursting with laughter. That was something I wanted but felt I didn't deserve at least that would be what my father would tell me once we were out of the store. He told me God punishes those who deserve to be punished, he said that I was always a bad girl since I turned ten and I deserved nothing less. 

That night I spent only my second night locked in the basement without food or water for almost a week. 

"Y/n?" Yoongi's voice drifted through the small crack between my double doors causing me to jump a little. "Yoongi, I was just about to head downstairs, are you alright?" I ask him softly closing my book and resting it on my nightstand almost knocking over my bottle of water. "M'fine, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I know it was uncalled for it's just- Jungkook has always gotten on my nerves I just- never cared to respond to his bullshit before."

I notice the slight sheen on his forehead as he stands idle in the doorway but chose not to address it. Instead I study him for a moment while he spoke, his ears were pressed to his skull like he was afraid I was going to lash out at him like I had just hours prior. His stance stood tall and firm though, that was the one thing I noticed about Yoongi.

No matter how hard he tried to hide much of his emotions besides indifference of course, his ears would give him away every single time. The way they twitched when something bothered him, the way one of them would always droop when he was getting tired but wouldn't admit it. I found it adorable but also endearing all at the same time. 

I take a deep breath and with a small smile Yoongi's ears begin to perk up a little bit. "It's okay Yoons, I'm sorry for snapping at you the way I did. I didn't mean to I just- didn't want anything to happen to either of you. You guys mean a lot to me, like a big family. Something I never really had, I promise I'll do better to control my anger."

Yoongi's tail taps the door seemingly happy he was forgiven about his behavior. Yoongi noticed the distant shine in Y/n's eyes from the bedside lamp, he takes a step forward but thinks better of it, trying to fight his instincts to hold her to him and scent her until they both fell asleep. 

Yoongi clears his throat and nods at Y/n before giving her a tight lipped smile and slipping out of the door and speeding off to his room rushing past Seokjin making his way to his own bed after taking a shower the latter shaking off his weird behavior after he smells Y/n's scent lingering past his nose.

Today was filled with the necessary things that needed to be done. Y/n had talked to John and his grandfather for a good portion of the early morning. The mustang they had brought in was finally broken in and ready for resell or anything they wanted it for really. Jimin was a little reluctant to let him go and Dove seemed a little irked about it was well but Y/n pulled him into the horse trailer by the rope around his neck nonetheless.

"Thanks again Y/n, I knew we could count on you." John's grandfather beamed up at her, Y/n returning a smile of her own. "Of course pops, anything to help you guys out. You should really teach John how to properly ride a horse, though I thought he would have learned by now." Y/n quips looking over at him with a chuckle as John turned around looking a little hurt by her words with a hand over his chest. "Why ride a horse when you have a perfectly good ATV to drive?" He laughs after locking the trailer door, leaving with a side hug from Y/n and a small wave to the two hybrids perched on the front porch as they drove pass.

Once they drive away Y/n walks back inside when her phone rings a few times before she pulls it out of her pocket and answers it without looking at the caller ID. "Hello? I'm sorry who is this?" She asks as a low voice begins to speak through the receiver. 

"Hello Miss Fontana this is Anthony Biltuck with Biltuck and Houston law firm how are you doing today?" She furrowed her brows then looks at her phone screen and sure enough it was the exact law firm mentioned. Why would a law firm be contacting her at such an early hour of the day? She was sure there was no law firm in the area that was even remotely opened this early or on a weekend.

"I'm fine all things considered. Why are you calling me?" She asks a tone of apprehension laced in her voice as Seokjin and Jungkook come to the landing of the staircase and Yoongi and Namjoon listen in from the living room, turning the television down to listen in on her phone call. 

"Lovely, listen I was calling you about your Uncle James that has recently passed away.-" Uncle? Last Y/n knew she only had her grandparents, she knew nothing of this self proclaimed Uncle James. She began to pace the floor with her free arm across her middle.

"Wait, I don't know a James much less an Uncle James. Are you sure you don't have the wrong number?" She asks hesitantly as all of the hybrids have gathered around her. Jimin comes to her side and nudges her arm, then holding her hand and lacing his fingers with hers, rubbing his thumb against her wrist. Y/n glances at him with a small smile calming her nerves enough to keep her voice from breaking from anxiety.

"I understand the confusion but you are Y/n M/n Fontana? Born to Jonathan and Larissa Fontana? James was Jonathan's older brother, I would also like to send my condolences to you and family for the loss of your father-"

Y/n's whole body freezes at the mere mention of her father, the man who beat her every chance he got. She hadn't heard his name nor had she heard him labeled as her father for years. It made her scent go sour, making a few of the hybrids to cover their nose or like Jungkook completely leave the area in favor for outside. Y/n squeezes Jimin's hand absently and if he didn't know any better he'd say that her parents were a sore spot for her, especially her father.

"Y-Yeah th-that's me." She stuttered making Jimin go heavy on his scenting in hopes he could calm her like he had before. Rubbing the top of her head with his cheek and holding her close to him whining quietly as her scent began to dull under his touch. Yoongi had stayed close to her opting to gently hold the hand Jimin had let go of in favor of holding her waist. His tail wrapped tightly around her thigh his ears flat against his skull much like Jimins.

"Great! I'm going to need you to come up to Billings Montana for a few weeks maybe a month or two to go through the will and make a few decisions on his affairs that he's left for you." 

"Montana?" She managed to choke out looking between the two hybrids that had stayed to comfort her.

"Yes, I would need to know how many of yours you will be bringing with you before you come this way. Don't worry everything will be paid for since this is a family affair after all." The attorney seems set on her coming all the way up there, not to mention it all being paid for? Under different circumstances Y/n would have jumped on the next available flight and been done with whatever is going on here. But with seven hybrids who don't even have their collars much less the proper adoption papers to board the plane? 

Goddamn she had a lot more to do than she previously thought.

"Uhm as of right now- there will be eight of us, I don't want to leave my b-hybrids by themselves." Slowly getting a grip on reality her scent had gone back to pretty normal all things considered. She didn't know where to go for the legal papers, perhaps she could go down to the adoption agency and get things together there. Then she would have to get all of them collars even though she hated the thought of having to put ownership on seven men perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Then again it is the law and the last thing she wants is for any of them taken away from her.

"I'll have to take care of a few things before I can make it up there I-"

"That is perfectly fine Miss Fontana. The complete will reading isn't for another two weeks you have time to get your affairs in order before leaving. I'll email you the plane tickets once the flight is booked for- eight." 

Once he said his goodbyes and hung up the phone Y/n was stuck in her own head for a minute or two when Jungkook and Namjoon came back inside from the back porch with curious looks on their faces. 

Y/n was still frozen in her spot- her mind going a million miles an hour while Jimin tugged on her flannel to get her to look at him. "She's frozen, what do we do? She won't move and her eyes are glossed over." Jimin whines his tail thumping against his leg- filled with anxiety as he tried to find her gaze like he had at the grocery store, trying to get her to come back to them. "The best thing to do for her right now is to sit her ass in a chair before her knees buckle out from under her." Yoongi says in a cool tone, pulling on her arm to which Y/n absently follows him to the lazy chair in the living room.

They sit her in the recliner as her mind swirls with questions and even less answers. She had an Uncle and a side of the family she's never even heard of and now she had assets and affairs left to her by some long lost Uncle on her fathers side.

Her father never mentioned he even had a brother, come to think of it he never mentioned his family even when her mother was alive, that she knew of. He kept a tight lid on that can of worms until the day he died by her hands, literally taking that little bit of information with him to the grave.

Jimin tucks himself behind her, wrapping his legs around her along with his arms- he's really worried for her because it's never taken her this long to come out of this trance before. Usually him or one of the others can snap her out of it pretty quickly but this?

This was something else entirely.

Yoongi kneels down to her level taking her hands in his causing her to flick her eyes to his soft caramel orbs. "Hey kitten, I'm going to need you to explain that phone call to us." He says in his calm low tenor tone smoothing his thumb over her tan skin gently, giving her a faint smile to hopefully coax an answer out of her. 

Her lips twitch into a small smile of her own, unable to not smile after seeing Yoongi's little cat like grin. "I guess an estranged uncle of mine died and left a few things to me? He was my-" She takes a deep breath and sighs heavily. "-fathers older brother. I've never heard of him until today which is odd in itself but now I have to  finish getting things ready for the upcoming winter a little faster than I wanted- not to mention I have to get you guys stupid collars for the flight and figure out adoption papers on top of all of that..." 

Y/n leans forward and Jimin releases his hold on her as she slumps over burying her face in her hands letting out a sigh of frustration while bouncing her leg. They came to her as strays she didn't know if any of them had previous owners or if they truly were strays. Come to think of it she's had them here for months and doesn't know a whole lot about the seven of them in the first place. She was just happy to have people around after being alone for so long.

What was a girl like her to do?

The next few days is spent outside getting the ranch winter ready seeing as the weather was cooling down significantly. Y/n was getting out some of Dove's winter coats for when she sits in the stables and her phone rings.

This time it was John and of course Emily was with him this time instead of his grandfather. Y/n had explained everything to them the same day it had happened and needless to say her friends were scared for her because the two of them were the only ones who knew what really happened to her father all those years ago.

"Hey girly pop, how are things going?" Emily asks oddly quiet from the other end when she doesn't answer right away. "Oh uh- everything's fine, yeah. Jimin and Jungkook have been a lot of help in the stables and the others have been working hard making sure the plants won't be too terribly damaged while we're gone." Y/n huffs out raking her hand through her hair before putting her hat back on her head, today was a little hotter than the others so she was sweating just a little after dragging the heavy blankets out of storage.

Emily could tell by the tone of her best friends voice that she was thinking far more about other things than what she was physically doing, keeping her hands busy was a way of distracting herself from reality. "Y/n babes we were just calling you about the adoption papers you needed to fly out there and there's a small snag-" She pauses, waiting for the go ahead from John who's sat next to her in his living room. "Jimin still has an owner, his name is Bill Wittaker. He lives in the trailer park a few miles away from your farm house and-"

"We called him and he seemed pretty pissed that you had him in the first place." John interrupts Emily as she had stuttered just a second beforehand. Y/n's heart stopped at the mention of the man that had all rights to take Jimin away from her, all the color in her cheeks drained making her look lifeless. John and Emily are worried when they don't hear a single word nor a sound from the other end of the phone. 

Y/n turned to see Jimin sat atop Dove with his beautiful smile and crescent shaped eyes as he rode the horse around for a bit laughing and having a good time. His yellow blonde hair flowing in the wind, the sun shining over his lightly tanned features, his strong legs draped over either side of the saddle and boots in the stirrups like a professional. He looked every bit like he had jumped out of a romance novel.

Y/n had gotten to know the retriever hybrid the best since they came here, always next to her like a true golden retriever. Always doing what she asked no matter how ridiculous her requests sounded to him, maybe a few side eyed expressions thrown her way every now and then, very sassy, very Jimin.

Everyone had their secrets Y/n knew that much for she had a few of her own she kept tucked away at the furthest corners of her mind. She just wished to know why Jimin would keep this type of information from her if he was to go with her in just a matter of ten days to a whole other state.

"Y/n? Are you there?" John asks through the phone, biting the nubs he called nails as Emily took the phone from his hand. "Listen Y/n I know how you must be feeling right now but you know we could always go down there and talk to him. I would bring Jimin with you just in case worse comes to worse, ya know?" Y/n absently nods her head before whispering a small yes from her tear filled tone. She wasn't ready to let Jimin go, not if her stubborn brain had anything to say about it.

As Y/n pulled her truck into the junk filled driveway of Bill's rather unkept home. Jimin shifts in the seat closer to her his tail wound tightly around her forearm nearly cutting off circulation from the last mile when he attached himself to her. His form seems even smaller as he curls into her side plunging his nose into her neck the best he could, slightly trembling.

"Do we really have to be here? Couldn't you just talk to him over the phone?" Jimin whispers into the crook of her neck as Emily slid out of the passengers side, holding her nose as a few non-hybrid cats loom around her feet their tails chopped off into little stubs at their backsides meowing loudly and rubbing against her pant leg. 

Y/n puts her hand on his cheek making Jimin look at her with the most heart broken expression on his beautiful face and her heart aches for him as she coos. "Don't worry Jiminie, we're just going to talk through a few things and get your adoption papers filled out correctly." She kissed his temple softly, a silent promise between the pair of them, letting him hold onto her for as long as he felt the need to- which he didn't seem like he was ever going to let go of her anytime soon.

The three of them barely made it to the door before it swung open and a very unsightly obviously older man stood at the threshold holding a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He stood there blinking a few times before he fixed his shirt and cleared his throat. 

"I see you brought the damn bastard with you, lets talk inside." The man sneers looking down at Jimin with a fixated snarl on his face making Y/n stand between the two of them protectively. Jimin curls in on himself behind her whimpering like a kicked puppy as they entered the trashed trailer.

You didn't need to be a hybrid to smell the black mold or lime scale littering the trailer. No matter how hard Emily tried to hide her disgust her facial expressions didn't help her in the slightest. She walked around with Y/n and Jimin following the man into the living room which was actually kind of clean to their surprise.

Taking a seat in the living room, Jimin still attached to Y/n and flinching every time the man in front of them moved in the slightest. Y/n felt something was very off about him besides the obvious disarray the man kept his home in. Gauging Jimins reactions there was no doubt some level of abuse going on in this house which made her blood boil and her ears turn red with anger, though she kept her emotions well hidden- better than Emily at least.

"We're here to discuss- well, rather fix Jimin's adoption papers so that I can take him on vacation with me in the next few days." Y/n speaks calmly though she grits her teeth into some form of a smile when she meets Bill's eyes that finally peeled themselves off of the whining hybrid next to her.

His smile is nasty, missing a few teeth the rest of them crooked and miscolored different shades of yellow. He leans forward in the lazy chair causing Jimin and Emily to move back but Y/n stood her ground keeping a hand on Jimins knee to keep his shivering form somewhat calm. "I see, y'know he ran away almost a year ago and his siblins' been missing him terribly-" Bill chuckles darkly turning his burning gaze back to the terrified hybrid shaking in his boots and hiding his face from view behind Y/n's shoulder.

"I have every right to keep 'em here given the 'doption papers say he belongs to me and only me." The man was nasty disgusting even, it took every ounce of restraint Y/n had in her not to slap the shit out of him with the way he kept looking at Jimin like a piece of meat. Scanning his body up and down like he was ready to devour him at a moments notice.

Y/n didn't know Jimin had siblings much less a mother given most hybrids had been made in labs especially the more exotic breeds. Nonetheless she kept firm hold on his knee to help keep him calm and herself from pouncing on Bill like a feral animal. If she was going to convince him to give Jimin up she needed this exchange to go smoothly. 

"I understand that sir but I see you have more than your fair share of animals here, hybrid and non-hybrid alike. I would like to talk about uhm, adopting Jimin from you. He's been a very big help at my farm-" Bill raises his hand in front of her face to stop her talking before he looks in her direction his eyes glowing with something akin to mischief but more sinister. 

"A farm you say? So you must have a pretty penny to spend, huh?" Bill grins as he waits for Y/n to respond.  She shifts in her seat highly uncomfortable with the way he was staring at her with money hungry eyes. Emily looks at her from the side keeping her mouth closed in a tight lipped smile before exchanging a silent agreement between the two of them. 

"Name your price and I'll pay it. I just want to take him home, please." Y/n all but begs the man in front of her as Jimin picks his head up out of her neck his eyes pleading with her when he gets her attention. "Please Y/n you don't have to pay for me. I'll just stay here it's fine I promise. He'll bleed you dry if you-" 

Bill jumps from his chair and raises his hand to hit Jimin into silence. He flinches so hard he actually climbs halfway over the couch to flee the situation he feels he's caused. Y/n shoots up from her seat and grips Bill's wrist tightly- keeping his hand in place the look of pure hellfire in her eyes evident enough to both Bill and Emily that she wasn't going to let this man lay a single digit on her poor hybrid ever again.

"I'll give you three-hundred if you sign the adoption papers over to me giving me sole custody of him and swear on your life you will not under any circumstances set foot on my property for any reason to claim him back into your- care." Y/n spits her words at Bill her face a full grimace burning holes into his head as he rips his wrist from her solid grip grumbling some curse words and small form of agreement.

A little while later Y/n had just barely dropped Emily back off at Johns house and finally made it back to her own home breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Resting her head heavily on the back of the bench seat in her old beat up truck and closing her eyes she barely registers the heavy head on her right shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, Y/n. I was scared you'd send me back so I didn't say anything..." Jimins voice was so soft she almost didn't hear him when he muttered his mumbled apology to her. She raises her head and rests her cheek on the crown of his head softly rubbing it against his shaggy blonde hair absently which she seemed to do often- even if she wasn't a hybrid herself.

Jimin didn't seem to mind though. "Ain't nothin' to be sorry for Jiminie." She mutters softly with her sweet accent, gently taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together with a small smile on her face. "Besides the bastard is lucky I didn't throat punch him and call the cops on him." She chuckles a little making Jimin do the same.

He snuggles in closer to her nudging his nose into the crook of her neck scenting her in appreciation for what she had done for him. Jimin was beyond grateful and a little surprised at the lengths Y/n was willing to go for him. It was sitting in the truck in that moment that he had realized the feelings he had for her at the start of these crazy months was blooming into something much more, intimate. 

"Why don't you say we head inside before the others come looking for us?" She coos softly, faintly kissing his forehead and Jimin leaning into it as his golden tail began to thump on the bench seat for the first time since their journey started.

"Y/n, do you ever feel like- maybe you've found the place you're meant to be? Maybe it's just my instincts or my yearning to have a place to truly call home but," Jimin pauses for a moment before Y/n picks her head up again and Jimin does the same. They look into each others eyes neither one looking away. It's like time had stopped for the pair of them, a silent song playing to fill the silence and suddenly Jimin could see it all.

The eight of them living in this very house together all smiles and laughter swirling about the late evenings. Summer night bonfires with friends and family. Early mornings tending to the farm animals with a to go cup of coffee sitting in the truck as Y/n takes Dove out for a morning ride with Jimin beside her on his own horse laughing and smiling until his cheeks hurt. 

Some mornings though, would be spent sleeping in until the late hours of the morning maybe until early afternoon. Laying in bed together, Jimin able to see the beautiful grace of her morning bedhead as she slept peacefully next to him. Her cheek squished against her pillow making her lips form an adorable pout just waiting to be kissed awake. 

And maybe one day there would be little pups running around his legs, begging to be picked up and carried around on their daddy's back pretending to be a horse of their own. Or perhaps spending cool evenings around the porch firepit roasting marshmallows over the fire. Jimin most likely burning more than a few of them making the pups laugh. Saying things like 'silly daddy, you're not supposed to burn them' or possibly hear them make grossed out noises when he just pops the burnt marshmallow into his mouth and eat it with a smile. 

And by the end of the night after they've gone to bed and said goodnight to their uncles, the eight of them would settle down for a movie before bed. Y/n would be cuddled in close to his side wrapped up in one of the big blankets from the linen closet and when the movie would be over Jimin would have to carry her to bed and tuck her in. Slipping in behind her with a content sigh as his held her close to his chest and slowly letting himself drift off to sleep himself only to do it all over again the next day.

The pair began to close the gap between them. Y/n cheeks burned bright as Jimins nose brushed her own and she sucked in a harsh gasp of air holding it for dear life as their lips connected. The kiss was still for a second before Jimins eyes fluttered closed lost in the taste of her lips against his. Y/n followed suit shortly after his lips began to move against hers. She wasn't expecting it but he was a domesticated hybrid and once again she was reminded to look up more information about the seven of them if she was to survive all of them. 

Her mind didn't stop her from enjoying the way Jimins pillow soft lips felt against her own. His lips felt something akin to a fresh dough before being thrown in the oven to bake. The way his lips moved against hers so perfectly, the outside world long forgotten to her and him. Jimin shifted in the seat to face her better, pushing against her and to his surprise she pushed back. 

The retriever hybrid pulled on the loop of her jeans on either side of her hips successfully pulling her into his lap. Y/n cradled his face in her hand drifting to the nape of his neck and weaving it into his hair. The other rested on his opposite shoulder as his small yet agile hands kneading into her hip dips just below the belt of her jeans. The windows began to fog up just barely as the sun had set below the horizon and the cool night air began to nip at the back of Y/n's neck since the truck was off. 

Jimin was the one to break the kiss, his eyes heavy and blown out keeping a firm grip on her hips refusing to let go of her just yet. He hazily looks into her eyes with a goofy yet droopy, doped up smile on his face making his eyes close into crescents. "Well, that wasn't- I mean it was..." Y/n struggles to find the right words for what just happened between them when Jimin cups her cheeks between his hands with a stupid grin on his face quickly kissing her nose.

"You don't have to say anything right now princess, I honestly forgot my own train of thought. Really you're just so intoxicating by yourself and after what you did for me today- it just put a few things into perspective and I really liked you from the start but now-" Jimin was nearly scared half to death with a knock to the driver's side window and Y/n quickly scrambles out of his lap and unceremoniously manages to not kill herself sliding out of the passengers side door and onto her feet like an agile cat landing on it's paws. 

"What're you guys doing in there for so long the windows fogged up?" Jungkook asks with his shit eating grin on his face. Y/n rounds the truck with Jimin behind her holding onto his hand blankly staring at the moose hybrid before her. "Oh shut up, how long were you standing there?" Y/n stabs her finger into his chest. "Fucking Christ woman I just got out here two seconds ago, slow your roll." Jungkook chuckles removing her accusing finger from his chest cavity and rubbing the spot attentively. He notices the clouded look on Jimins face and it suddenly dawns on him what must have happened.

One of them finally made a real move on their person.

TAGLIST: @valpinkk @moonxxlover @meowforluv

A/N: Ah! I've been waiting to post this chapter forever! The next chapter will be the last one for a little while since the next five chapters are when things get serious!

[missjessefantastico]

who's surprised? nobody!

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny adopts himself

It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.

Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).

Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.

He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.

Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to help Alfred with dinner.

Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.

It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.

"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."

Damian put the knife away and huffed.

Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.

Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.

Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.

Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.

Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.

Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.

"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.

"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.

The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.

Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.

Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"

Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.

Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.

"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.

The table went silent.

Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."

Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.

"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.

Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.

Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[writersdrug]

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.  

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

[mattsmedusa]

✎ 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬 𝐰𝐜. 𝟏.𝟐𝐤 [𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭]

your boyfriend, chris, loved hearing your sweet noises of pleasure. he would do anything to hear you moan his name in that breathy tone, all drunk on his cock no matter where you were. he didn’t mind how loud you got, it only brought him more pleasure. well, you weren’t usually that loud in bed, you knew you’d get a noise complaint if you let your voice out completely, but you can’t really keep quiet when all he does is try to make you moan even louder.

"o—h, chris," you sighed shakily, your head thrown back in ecstasy as he slowly pushed inside. chris groaned lowly when he bottomed out, feeling your velvety walls pulse around his cock. he leaned down and nuzzled in your neck, his hands caressing your sides as he started to move. "y’feel so good baby, so fuckin’ beautiful," he murmured against your neck, kissing and nipping on the skin there.

chris being chris, with his hyper fixation with your moans, groaned in pleasure when he heard you moan so delicately, but he didn't want you to moan softly—he wanted you to scream his name. he wanted the whole neighborhood to know who was fucking you so good, who was making you feel so good. your eyes rolled back briefly when he started to pound into you, the tip of his cock mercilessly slamming into your cervix.

your eyes closed shut, eyebrows knitted together and back arching as profanities left your parted lips along with louder moans. chris relished in them. a shudder went down his spine when he heard you moan his name loudly when he hit a particularly spongy spot. he knew what he was hitting, he knew your body inside and out, after all.

"oh, did I find your sweet spot ma?" he cooed, tauntingly, before slamming hard into that spot again – purposely this time, making your back arch more, hands scrambling up to grip onto his forearms that held your hips in place on the bed. your whole body shuddered and trembled as he kept slamming precisely into your g-spot with a relentless pace, your moans nothing short of pornographic.

chris let out shaky low moans as he heard your sounds grow louder, his fingers working deftly on your puffy slippery clit, bringing you closer and closer to something earth-shattering. your eyes teared up in pleasure, already so fucked to say anything except "harder" and "faster". what could he do other than give you what you wanted? after all, he wanted it as much as your needy self.

the bedframe slammed against the wall in rhythm with his pounding, the bed creaking with each movement. your body rose up the bed with each thrust, making chris groan in annoyance. he wanted your body to stay still so he could fuck you harder just like you wanted, but with the way your body was bouncing it was near impossible, and so, he quickly thought of a solution.

you whined when he suddenly stopped and pulled out, "all fours, ass up, face down." he ordered, his voice breathless with unfulfilled desire and exertion. chris watched as you scrambled into position, presenting your backside to him, your face flush against the pillow. he let out a low whistle, "fucking love this view," he gave your ass a sharp slap before grabbing the flesh there with one hand and your hip with the other. you moaned into the pillow when he filled you up again.

his thrusts were punishing, exactly what you wanted as he surged forward with renewed vigor. chris couldn’t help but notice the way the pillow silenced your screams of pleasure.

oh, he was having none of that.

his hand left your ass and tangled in your hair, wrapping your locks around his hand before tugging your head up. your moans immediately filled the room, making his whole body shudder. your moans were music to his ears.

"fu—ck, chris, cumming, o—h," you mewled, "m’gonna—gonna cu—m." he grunted in satisfaction when he heard your desperate – barely coherent – words. "oh yeah? fuckin’ come on this big dick," one hand came down and around to draw quick circles on your swollen clit in time with his thrusts. "c’mon ma, wanna feel you fucking suffocate my cock." his voice was a near growl as he worked you closer and closer.

your body shook and trembled when you reached your peak, pure unadulterated pleasure etched on your features as you moaned his name. he didn’t stop, he couldn’t, not when you were moaning his name like that. you gasped when he pushed you down fully, your front side now flush against the mattress as he started to pound into you.

this was it. this was the position.

chris moaned lowly in pleasure when he heard your loud gasping moans, the way your legs lifted whenever he went balls deep only spurred him on. he fucked you mercilessly, and you couldn’t move away, you were trapped between his body and the bed. his hand yanked your head back by your hair so he could hear all the sounds you were making without it being muffled by the bed or pillow.

"fucking love your sounds baby, your sweet fuckin’ moans, only for me." he moaned in your ear, causing shudders to ripple through your body. you were fast approaching your second orgasm, the feeling of him going so deep and so fast was too much for you. his hand that was on your hair snaked around and wrapped itself around your throat. not quite cutting air supply, but enough pressure to have you gasping.

his free hand snaked under your body and strummed your bundle of nerves, the stimulation on your clit along with him repeatedly hitting your sweet spots deep inside you was your undoing. you let out high pitched keens and cries as you came again, your whole body shaking.

your pussy clenched around his cock rhythmically, all while pulling him in more. "f-fu—ck, your pussy’s fucking pulling me in, greedy girl," he groaned as he felt his release so close that he could practically taste it. a few more brutal slams and chris let out a guttural moan when he finally felt the pressure in his lower abdomen snap, his hips jerking against your ass as he filled your welcoming cunt full with his seed.

his hand soon left your throat, his breathing ragged, matching yours as his body slumped on top of you, his cock still letting out little spurts of cum inside your quivering pussy, painting your walls white. he nuzzled his face in the side of your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried to control his breathing.

after a while, he finally pulled out, both of you moaning at how sensitive you’d become. and almost immediately after he pulled out, his cum trickled out of your well loved hole. chris couldn’t help himself, he just had to take a picture. he took his phone from the bedside table and nudged you gently, showing you his phone. "can I?" he asked and you nodded, chuckling in amusement, still breathless.

he sighed in contentment after taking the photos and plopping down next to you, pulling you closer by your waist and nuzzling his face in your hair. "i love you," he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his hands caressed your body, worshipping every inch as you two lay there on his bed, relishing in the afterglow and love.

୨୧

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece

© 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚

[berryz-writes]

Blue

Azriel x reader

Summary: There's a large contrast between the warm and gentle Az you get to enjoy versus the cold and quiet demeanour he reserves for others

Note: FIRST FULL WEEK I HAVE THINGS PLANNED OUT FOR. this isn't entirely my favourite but fuck it we ball <33 enjoy lovelies

@azrielappreciationweek day 1

The kitchen is a warm, flour-dusted haven, filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla as Azriel leans over my shoulder, watching me whisk the batter with an amused glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck, “you could just let me do that.” He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me gently against him. “Your hands might get tired.”

I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “I think I can handle a little whisking.” I turn to face him, catching the soft, rare smile that lights his face, the one that only appears when it’s just us. I lean up, brushing a light kiss to his lips, and feel him pull me closer, his fingers resting at the small of my back.

“Hmm,” he hums, deep and quiet, his lips lingering just a moment longer. “You taste like sugar.”

“You’re distracting me,” I say, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

“Good,” he replies, his voice low. His gaze drops to the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and he raises an eyebrow. “They’re missing something.”

“Exactly,” I sigh, surveying the icing jars and realizing I’ve run out of the last colour I need. I hesitate, glancing at him, knowing he’s had a long week of missions and should probably be resting. But he just tilts his head, a patient smile on his face, like he already knows what I’m about to ask.

“Could you pick up more icing for me?” I ask, brushing a bit of flour off his cheek, unable to hide my smile. “Please?”

He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Anything for you.” There’s a gentle warmth in his eyes, a soft devotion that melts me from the inside out.

As he steps back, he squeezes my hand. “Save a few for me?”

“All of them,” I reply with a grin, watching as he heads to the door, wings stretching wide in the golden afternoon light. He gives me one last look before taking off, a dark silhouette against the sky.

Azriel's POV

Flying over the city, my mind lingers on her, the soft warmth of her laugh, the way her eyes light up when I walk into the room. She’s goddess incarnate, far too perfect for me.

The cold air rushes past as I fly, enjoying the time to stretch out my wings to their fullest.

But halfway through my journey, I feel Rhysand’s voice slip into my thoughts, quiet and laced with urgency.

Azriel, we have a guest in the dungeons. I need answers from him if you're available, it's urgent

I think about his words. Maybe if it had been a few months ago Rhys wouldn't have added the part of me being "available" knowing I was waiting at the chance to distract my mind. But ever since y/n walked into my life it was getting easier and easier to spend days doing nothing except enjoy her company. No torture sessions. No constant dagger sharpening. Just time spent with her.

Fine.

Was the simple reply I gave. It would only take a few minutes of my time.

The warmth I felt just minutes ago fades as I turn, heading down toward the underground jail, where shadows and silence reign. My shadows coil tighter around me, sharper, attuned to the work at hand as I descend into the dim halls of the dungeon.

The heavy door creaks open, and I step inside to find the prisoner chained to a chair, his gaze faltering as he meets mine. He tries to summon some defiance, but I can see the fear flicker beneath it, his breaths shallow as my shadows drift closer, surrounding him in darkness. This won’t take long.

I approach him slowly, letting each step echo off the stone walls. Leaning forward, I let my voice drop to a low, controlled murmur, knowing how much more effective a whisper can be. “Let's make this quick. Tell me everything you know"

I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant by everything. He knew what I was here for and I would get it one way or another.

He’s silent at first, eyes darting, and I can see him calculating his options. But there’s no fight in him, not against what he senses I’m capable of. My shadows close in, tightening like a noose around him, each word I speak dripping with cold intent.

After a slow drag of my dagger down the column of his neck the information begins to spill out, fast and frantic. I listen carefully, never blinking, absorbing each detail.

No need for lost blood; I extract every piece with surgical precision, each question laced with the promise of what could happen if he resists. Soon, he’s left shuddering, broken, and silent.

I silently thank the cauldron he didn't make this difficult otherwise I would have to clean up before getting to my wife and the thought of keeping her waiting was not something I enjoyed.

Before I leave, I pause, tilting my head as I look down at him with one last, almost casual question. “Pick a colour.”

His face twists in confusion, fear giving way to bewilderment. “Uh… blue,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

I give him a curt nod, acknowledging his choice before I turn and leave him to the shadows that linger. As I step into the fresh air aboveground, I make my way to a small shop, selecting a container of bright blue icing, a flash of colour that feels strange against the cold efficiency of what I’ve just done.

When I arrive home, I find her at the counter, surrounded by stacks of sweet heaven. She lights up as she sees me, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "Az! Thank you my love" she says, taking the container and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.

I'd be lying if i said I didn't melt.

But then she pauses, glancing at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What took so long?”

I shake my head, not wanting her to worry “You don’t need to worry” I murmur, my voice gentle. “Rhys just needed something done”

She watches me closely, as if weighing my words, a knowing look in her eyes. But she doesn’t press. Instead, she smiles softly, letting her fingers brush over mine as she returns to her cupcakes.

I linger there, watching her work, feeling the lightness return to my chest as I settle back into the life we share. She doesn’t push, and I’m grateful.

With her I feel like life is worth living.

note: should have azriel year tbh

[staysdelulus]

Bang Chan - Pajamas

SKZ Bang Chan x Female 9th Member Reader

a/n: inspired by SKZ-Code; didn't know what to call this, exactly, so...

ASKS ARE OPEN

Summary: After getting your pajamas chosen and sleeping in the same room and bed with Chan, you find yourself confronting him about his behavior before finally fucking it out.

Warnings: smut, pinv, oral (both receiving), mentions of fingering, etc.

WC: ~2k

--

“A or B?” Chan’s voice rings out from behind you, the others giggling as you sigh, contemplating your choices. You honestly didn’t know what to choose. As more and more members continued to make their choices, the boys had gotten even more ideas.

And then there was Felix. Lee Know had switched his top despite his choice, essentially choosing his entire outfit. Pray that they would spare you the embarrassment, being the youngest and the only female in the group. “A.”

“A or B?” Chan’s voice rings out again after another bout of giggling. Unable to help yourself, you laugh as well before speaking. “B.”

Last but not least, the accessories come. “B.”

When you turn to take a look at your outfit, your eyes widen. There were the tight short shorts you had brought, and a shirt with the heart shaped cut on the back (after Felix cut his shirt up, some of the other members had followed), and the cute pigtail headbands with the shorter hair.

After another game of chance, resulting with Bang Chan and Hyunjin switching their outfits, you make your way to change. Slowly, the members come out one by one. You’re last.

The members, like always, are loud, laughing and cheering as you stroll in, grinning in your short shorts, back exposed, your bra strap cutting right across from it. As the members continue the fun, you inevitably get 8th place after choosing a bad time for the next challenge.

When the time to pick the rooms come, you and Chan, who was last, are stuck together. Cheeks flushing slightly, everyone heads to their rooms, and you find yourself following Chan quietly. He wasn’t close with you, not as much as the others, anyway. A small part of you feared he hated you, but you knew Chan wasn’t like that.

If you respect me, I respect you. Those words ring in your head, and you take a deep breath, reassuring yourself before Chan suddenly speaks. “You can shower first, I’ll wait out here.”

You swear he sounded annoyed. Nodding quickly, you make your way to the bathroom, grabbing your towel on the way before hopping into the shower. As soon as you’re done, Chan slips into the bathroom, taking his shower. When he returns, he slips into bed, muttering a goodnight before turning away.

You make your way to brush your teeth, washing your face before returning to the bed and crawling into bed beside him. You can tell he’s awake by his tense shoulders, his body too tight to be relaxed.

“Chan?” you whisper softly. He grunts, turning to face you, his eyes fixed on you.

“Yes?” his voice is flat. Not mean, but still… it hurts a bit.

“I… nevermind.” You turn away quickly, shrinking into yourself, holding back tears. You didn’t know what it was that made you want to cry. Maybe it was the lack of communication between the both of you. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded each time he talked to you - flat, slightly sharp, and dry.

An awkward silence falls upon the room, before you feel Chan shifting closer to you. And then… His arm wraps around you, chest against your bare back, his voice quiet. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” you whisper, your voice small, wavering slightly. Chan takes a deep breath, his voice soft. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble again. He pulls you slightly, turning you around to face him, his voice quiet.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly. “Just got… something in my eyes.”

“You’re bad at lying,” Chan responds. “Talk to me.”

“How?” the word slips out before you can stop it. Chan’s brow raises, his eyes confused before he speaks quietly. “What do you mean?”

This was it. This was your chance. And so, you take it. “Don’t you… dislike me?”

You continue, your voice undeniably vulnerable. “I just… everytime we’re alone it doesn’t feel the same as with the others. Not in a bad way, exactly, but… you know. You’re always snappy and- and-”

Your voice cracks, and Chan’s eyes soften the most they ever had in your presence. He gently strokes your cheek, his voice quiet. “I don’t hate you, Y/n. I just…”

He bites his lower lip, his eyes trailing all over your face, forehead pressing against you. You take a deep breath, your eyes wide as his nose brushes yours. “Chan, what are you doing?”

He groans softly, his hand shifting to your waist, grip tight as he murmurs against your lip. “Everytime I’m with you, Y/n, I barely stop myself.”

“Stop yourself?” Fuck. You looked innocent. Too innocent, with your boba brown eyes, wide as they stared up at him. “Like… how- oh.”

Your breath hitches as his head moves down, nose inhaling your scent as it brushes your lips. You gasp softly, and his eyes meet yours, darkened with something. A need. “Y/n, can I?”

His lips are basically touching yours now. You nod.

He growls, groaning as he kisses you, tongue fighting through your pressed lips as he deepens it, body moving firmly against you as you whimper. Whimper. Even that sounded cute and hot at the same time.

His hand trails to your open back, fingers flicking the hook of your bra as you whine, eyes wide when he pulls away. He smirks, eyes half-closed as he gently tugs on it. “Can I?”

You manage to nod. Your clothes are off in a few seconds, laying naked on the bed. He follows suit, his cock throbbing as he kisses you again. When you manage to pull away, gasping for breath, you speak softly. “Chan, I’ve never…”

He pauses, his voice quiet. “Y/n, we don’t have to do this.”

As soon as he begins to pull away, you protest. “No, Chan, it’s fine, I just…”

He nods, understanding in his eyes as he kisses your shoulder softly. “Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop. Promise?”

“I promise,” you answer, eyes wide. As his fingers trail down to your stomach, moving further, you grab his hand quickly. “Chan, wait.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs softly, his eyes soft. You gulp, cheeks flushing. “Can I… try to give you a blowjob?”

How could someone say that so innocently? He nods, helping you up and back down onto your knees, a pillow beneath you. You look up at him, his legs spread, cock ready for you to take as he murmurs softly. “Take it slow. Don’t overwhelm yourself, baby.”

Your legs nearly buckled at his endearment, but you nod quickly. “Okay.”

Gently, you press your hands on his shaft, using the precum forming already to stroke him, your lips puckering as you take a deep breath. He groans slightly at the feel of your warm breath fanning over him, before you take him in slowly.

Very slowly. That’s what you want, and that’s what he wants - for you to take it slow. His fingers thread through your hair as your lips wrap around him, gently pushing an inch in before pulling out, and going at it again. Finding a rhythm, you slowly take in more of him, hands touching him where you couldn’t reach.

He groans softly, eyes rolling back as he growls. “Fuck, Y/n, you feel so good.”

You whine, the vibrations making him neary come already as his hands tighten around your hair, doing his best not to just thrust himself into your mouth all the way. As you move quicker and quicker, whining softly, he groans again. “Y/n, I’m gonna come- fuck- get off if you don’t want me to-”

You just whimper, begging for it. He comes, ropes of it shooting into the back of your throat, even when you pull off, falling onto your skin as your wide eyes look up at him, jaws falling open to show him his whole spectacle in your mouth.

“Swallow for me?” he murmurs gently. You nod, lips clamping shut before swallowing it whole. “Good girl.”

You whimper at the praise, and he laughs immediately, catching on before easily grabbing you in his arms and throwing you onto the bed.

“Gonna eat you out,” Chan mutters, spreading your legs before he looks up at you from between the bed. “Let me know if you need to stop.”

His lips are on you in a flash, sucking at your clit and swiping at your folds, delving slightly into your entrance. He’s relentless, attacking you as you whine, hands falling to his hair as you gasp, his tongue and lips working wonders. You feel yourself about to come, and he taps on your thighs to let you know it’s okay. Falling apart, he licks every drop off of you, lips trailing up your skin, sucking and leaving hickeys, latching onto your breasts before bringing his lips to yours, the tastes of you both mixing.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, his fingers finding your folds as he teases you. “You’re so wet, baby… hm?”

Nodding, you lean up to kiss him, hands needing to do something as they wrap around his neck, holding onto him desperately, his hardened dick pressing against your inner thigh before he adjust himself against your entrance. “This okay?”

You nod, and he gently kisses you before slowly pushing himself in. He barely pushes himself in before pulling out, and pushing in again, slowly stretching you out as you whine, whimpering into his mouth as his hands find your waist, pulling you up slightly. As he shifts further into you, the furthest he can go, he pauses to let you adjust. As soon as you give him a nod, he’s moving. Slow, and then suddenly fast.

Lips leaving you, his head falls back, eyes hooded as he looks down at you, fucking you into oblivion as you cry out, whining softly. “Channie, Chan- p-please- it feels g-good-”

“Sh, sh, baby,” he murmurs, groaning softly as he pushes himself into you again, your tightness making his head spin. “Hold onto for me, hm? Good girl.”

Sniffling, you nod, whimpering as he continues to pound his way into you. As soon as he feels your core clenching around him, your hands wild as they ran over the bedsheets, whimpering, sobbing, and crying all at once, he pulls your hip up higher, your moans turning into straight sobs as you beg. “Channie, please, can’t hold on anymore, please, please please, Channie, please-”

“Good girl,” he grinds out, teeth clenched. “Fuck- come on, baby, Y/n, need you to come for me like the good girl you are.”

His words send you to heaven, your head throbbing as you scream, thankful the walls were soundproof, as you cry through your orgasm, him following through as he fucks through it, groaning softly. “Fuck, Y/n… you okay?”

You sniffle, eyes wide as you nod up at him, chest heaving. He gently sets you down on the bed, hands leaving your waist as he rushes to the bathroom, grabbing a warm cloth to clean you up. Kissing your forehead, he grabs the scattered clothes from the ground before speaking. “We should put these back on, although I’d love to see this view every day and night. The members will be roaming around in just a few hours.”

“Okay,” you murmur tiredly. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Get some sleep,” he says, pulling you into his arms. “Let’s talk about this - us - another time. When we get back.”

--

The next day, you’re blindfolded, sitting next to Lee Know and Jeongin, judging Felix and Han’s seaweed soup and… interesting egg mixture. As Chan brings the food up to your lips, he murmurs against your ears. “Swallow.”

[glamourscat]

May i please request headcanons, maybe a drabble of the batboys where reader is trying so hard to pretend that they don't know anything about their partner being a vigilante because they want to be told with trust and the boys are growing increasingly concerned about their s/o's obliviousness bcs like?? and the their s/o keeps saying things like "haha yeah!! red robin's super underground but that costume is pretty good timmy!" and "oh? i do have a thing for morally gray men, lovely red hood costume" whenever they accidentally see parts of the costume and can't pretend they didn't see it

idk i just think it would be funny af, ty in advance!!

i decided to go for drabbles. they are quite long so i only did jason and tim. should i do dick, maybe steph too, in the near future? let me know!

"You can't be serious," Jason thought. It's not that you're blind, and he’s not exactly being subtle. He knew from day one that being involved with a civilian meant the topic of his nightlife would eventually come to light. Before getting together you two had been friends for a long time, but he never quite managed to outright say, "Hey, by the way, I’m Red Hood." How do you even drop something like that into a conversation? 

Yet, as your relationship grew, more milestones came along and suddenly, you two were approaching your 2 year anniversary. Now, more than ever, as you found yourselves living together, Jason knew it was going to be harder to explain his secret. How many lies could he keep telling about going to help Roy or some emergency with Dick? How many nights could he still sneak out after you’d fallen asleep, only to return aching from a patrol?

So, he started leaving subtle hints. From his domino mask to his gloves… but hell, at this point, he might as well leave his whole costume out, because how in the hell are you not picking up on the clues?

“You know, Jay, that vigilante... What's his name? The one in red? Oh right, Red Hood. He’s pretty cool, right? I mean, he has a different approach than the others, i think some would say morally gray. I mean, hot.. Anyway, but—oh, wait, this is a lovely Red Hood costume! I didn’t know you were a fan too?!”

At that moment, Jason didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or do both at the same time. Maybe by accident—maybe not—he had left his entire costume out. And it wasn’t exactly cheap. The fabric was thick, heavy, it was definitely not something you’d find at a Spirit Halloween. Yet, you just folded it, didn’t ask any questions, and continued with your little chat.

“Doll, you got a moment?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible because he was seconds away from laughing his lungs out.

“Yeah, Jay?” You looked at him, internally sweating. Did you give anything away? Did he suspect that you knew?

“You know, doll… that… the costume. I mean, it’s not fake, right? I…” He sighed, trying to find the right words.

“It’s real. Because I’m the Red Hood.” There. He’d said it. A relieved sigh left his lips as the words came out. Now comes the hardest part: your reaction. Would you laugh? Be shocked?

“Oh, yeah. I knew.”

What?

“What—? I beg your pardon?” Jason asked, his voice laced with disbelief, eyes scanning you to figure out if you were lying.

“I mean, you’re not exactly the most subtle, love, are you?” You said, amusement dancing in your eyes as you tried to hold back a smile. “Besides, I found out a while ago. I was just waiting, I suppose. It wasn’t my place to ask or say anything. I figured when you were ready, you’d say something.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Wait… when did you find out?” Jason raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Well, you see… It wasn’t that hard. At the beginning of our relationship when I’d tell you, ‘Hey, I’m going out with my friends tonight,’ and then coincidentally, when something happened—because it’s Gotham, let's be honest—there you were, Red Hood, swooping in to save the day. Always fleeting, never lingering too long. But what was really odd was that both Red Hood and my new boyfriend had the exact same walk style. Not to mention, Jay, mask or no mask, costume or no costume, I could still recognize you. Even in a crowded room.”

Jason just stood there, stunned. How had he missed all the signs? A part of him was relieved, he didn’t have to keep lying, but another part of him couldn’t believe he had been so obvious. You were too sharp for him to pull anything past you. And to think he was under the impression he had you fooled…

As he looked at you, he realized there was more to your patience than just waiting for him to confess. You’d known, but you’d never pushed him. It made him wonder how long you had really been aware. But now that it was out in the open, Jason found himself surprised by how easy the weight of the secret seemed to fall away. He’d been carrying it for so long, and yet, with you, there was no judgment, no shock. Just acceptance.

"You've always been patient with me," he murmured, his voice soft but grateful.

You gave him a warm, knowing smile, stepping closer. "Because I know you, Jason. And I know what you're doing matters. It’s a part of who you are, just like everything else."

Tim was stressed, but to be fair, Tim was always stressed. You two had been dating for a good while now and had been friends for much longer. However, somehow, he still hadn’t brought up the whole vigilante thing. Maybe it was because he was scared, or maybe it was due to his own selfishness. For once, he just wanted someone to see him as Tim and only Tim. But the truth was, he couldn’t exist without Red Robin. He knew that. And it had been too long. He knew he had to say something. But… does he?

Still, something didn’t sit right with him. It was the way you weren’t questioning him anymore on why he was always so tired, why sometimes he had to be gone for an entire week or why he trained so intensely. His physique, though not the most built, was still incredibly fit for a “simple rich kid.” And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand if you were just pretending not to notice or if you honestly hadn’t put it together. But when you suggested what costumes to wear for Halloween, he almost passed out on the spot.

“Yeah, I mean, we can do a couple’s costumes or… I don’t know, Tim. We can always go as… hmm? What about we go as vigilantes? I can be Wonder Woman and you can be Red Robin. It’s pretty underground. I’m sure the costume will look great; besides, you already have a good replica in your wardrobe. Fits like a glove, no?”

Like, this had to be a joke, right? Sometimes Tim wondered if his life was some kind of reality show, secretly followed by cameras just to capture his reaction to these weird, questionable moments.

He froze for a moment, staring at you, trying to piece everything together. Was this your way of telling him you knew? Was this a test?

“Uh... you... know?” he asked, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and disbelief.

You look at him confused. “Know what?” You shrugged, casually leaning back in your chair.

Tim blinked, his mind racing. He was smart, very so, but at this very moment he felt like the most ignorant being on planet Earth. He looks at you and you look at him and for a moment there is this unspoken, silent battle.

“You know, that I am Red Robin.” he says, quietly. Eyes searching yours for an answer.

“And what if I do?” you reply back equally quietly.

He had expected a lot of things. Shock, anger, even confusion, but not this calm, almost nonchalant acknowledgment. And yet, a wave of relief washed over him. You weren’t angry or disappointed. You weren’t even all that surprised.

“I’ve always known, Tim,” you continued, your tone softening. “You’ve been dropping clues left and right. The late nights, the cryptic phone calls, the strange bruises... And don’t even get me started on your ‘training’ routines. I never pushed because I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. And now, here we are. Although… I certainly did not imagine it to happen in such a way” you say, letting out a small soft laugh. 

Tim let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging in a way that felt like he’d been carrying a weight for far too long. "I didn’t want to burden you with it. I didn’t want to be Red Robin to you. I just wanted to be... just Tim."

You smiled softly, walking over to hug him. “And you are. You’re Red Robin, sure, but you’re not just that; are you? You’re Tim. My Tim. Two things can coexist at the same exact time, this is just what makes you.. You, ya know?” 

Tim stared at you for a moment, hands around your waist, his mind still processing. It was as if the entire weight of the secret identity he’d been carrying all this time suddenly evaporated. He had been so worried about how you would react, but now that it was out in the open, there was nothing left to hide.

"Thanks," he whispered, his head dropping to your neck. Hiding, but not really. It was more or so a way to feel you even closer. 

Your head gently resting against his, brushing a kiss against his hair. “Always, Tim. You’re still the same guy I fell for. I love you.”

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[klausysworld]

hey, so i’ve been having this scene in my head for days where y/n and klaus are kidnapped by some witches and they are put under a sex spell that makes both of them really horny. they gotta have intercourse for the witches to draw the energy that comes from simultaneous orgasms or something like that. they are reluctant at first especially y/n but klaus manages to convince/seduce her and they end up having the best sex of their life. could you write something like that pls?

Timeless Desire

Klaus groaned softly, rolling onto his back and peeling his eyes open. The light stung at his pupils making then shrink momentarily before they expanded beyond their usual diameter.

His body ran hot and a familiar but much more intense ache rolled through his body, his lower body especially. With a stiff grunt he placed his hand over his crotch, an immediate cry leaving him with how incredibly hard he was.

"Fuck" He breathed, lifting his spinning head and forcing himself up onto to find himself in a plain, bright room. He was fully dressed but he felt the need to tear each material from his skin. Just as he started to tug at the hem of his shirt his attention was pulled to a soft moan, one that made his loins stir.

Klaus spun round to see a vaguely familiar girl curled up in the corner. Dressed in a floaty dress that meant that the delicious scent of her arousal spread through the room like a wild fire. His eyes found hers, she was afraid that much was clear and if he were honest, he was also a little nervous but she looked scared of him and he didn't understand why.

His lips parted to speak but before he could, someone else's voice piped up.

"Perfect. You're both awake!" The voice was cold and mildly amused. Klaus felt his anger spike, he knew this witch. Not personally but he knew who it was and the type of shit this guy did. But the girl didn't, Klaus could tell that she was lost. "Now I know you're a little scared honey, but don't panic, I'm not here to hurt you." The guy grinned, adressing the girl before gesturing to Klaus "But he might" He whispered to her and Klaus frowned, confused. Did he know her? "Now you should recognise each other just a little bit. This, honey, is Klaus Mikaelson" He smirked and she sniffed, backing further into the corner, "And this is Y/n Y/l/n, you met once, she's part of Jackson's or I suppose now it's Hayley's pack" The witch explained and Klaus's eyes went wide. Hayley had introduced them, once, and he had liked her. He had flirted and teased but nothing came of it, so why was she here? Why was he here?

"What is this, exactly?" Klaus questioned, brows furrowed and eyes darting to Y/n who was squeezing her thighs together tightly.

"You know what it is and you're not gonna fight it. There are dozens of us who will benefit from this ritual and you will complete it by the next full moon." The witch told him sternly and Klaus's expression darkened.

"You're sick" He spat, he knew the ritual he meant. It was a power draw. Two supernaturals, when simultaneously orgasming would release a specific type of power that could be used and twisted to perform some of the biggest spells. Werewolves especially, their hormones are so high. And Klaus? He was perfect for this type of sorcery.

"Sick or not, It's necessary. You have a month, get to know each other if you have to. Or if you want to get back to your daughter them make it happen as soon as you can, hm?" He snapped and Klaus growled.

He knew what the witch was suggesting and based on how Y/n cried "No" , she knew too. The magic wielder left and Klaus looked to Y/n who was shaking her head.

"Please don't" She whimpered and Klaus sighed, brushing his hand over his hair and groaning at the sweat that coated him from how his skin boiled.

"I'm not...I won't make you do anything" He told her, trying to keep his distance but suddenly the room felt so much smaller.

They stayed in opposite corners, silent and uncomfortable. Sometimes she would cry and he would whisper that it was okay and they would get out but he knew it was useless.

When night came it was freezing, unbelievably and her body trembled. He knew what they were doing. They wanted them to lay together to conserve their heat, to touch. Instead, klaus pulled his henley over his head and pushed it over to her so she may warm up.

They stayed silent for days before Y/n began to struggle. His eyes had met her fading ones in the centre of the night and he nodded, getting up and coming over to her.

"It's okay" He whispered, laying down beside her and spooning her delicate figure against him. His cock was solid and pressed right against her ass but he didn't grind himself or say anything, he just needed to keep her warm and alive until the night was over.

But in the morning, the temperature was all the way up and their bodies were practically stuck together. Y/n was dragging the henley over her head, her body pressed against Klaus's and it made him bite down on his tongue hard. Her hips shifted without meaning to and Klaus groaned, bucking his hips against her firm ass. A whine left her and he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm sorry" He muttered, crawling away from her. He felt like a dog, a weak, panting dog that was desperate for water. His mind was hazy with her so close, he wanted her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her, hear her. Y/n looked so soft, so perfect.

She had curves, he could see them through the dress when she laid and he needed them.

But he couldn't, she was still scared and he couldn't make her. He would do a lot of things but he would not force her.

Klaus tried to stay away from her in the day, only touch at night for heat but then they started to get hungry, physically. Y/n needed food and Klaus needed blood. The witches said Klaus must feed from her and if Y/n wanted food then she would have to earn it. The deal was that for each minute they kissed, she would get a pice or a slice of something. No specifications, just something to entice her.

She was famished when she looked up at him, eyes wet with tears that hadn't yet fallen. Klaus softened, again, and let her shuffle over. His arms wrapped loosely around her waist and whispered gently in her ear. "It's going to be alright sweetheart, just a minute so you can get something okay? I won't hurt you"

Y/n leaned close to him, needing to feel safe and he could do that. She knew the witches were watching and it was unsettling but she also knew that she needed to eat.

So she closed her pretty eyes and let their lips collide. It was supposed to be closed mouth and quick but once they both got a small taste, they yearned for more.

Y/n broke first, surprisingly, and moaned against his lips. As soon as her mouth opened, his tongue was inside and their little kiss became an intense make out session. The heat was too much again and Klaus was pulling her to straddle his lap whilst his tongue fucked her mouth passionately.

They were both blissfully unaware of the time passing by as their bodies rubbed together desperately and her legs spread invitingly for him to lay between as he pushed her onto her back and bunched her dress up. His cock was so close to tearing through his boxers as he dragged his jeans down his hips roughly. Y/n was tugging at him overly eagerly, needing him inside her.

However as soon as he hand grabbed at her panties, her eyes flew open. A gasp leaving her throat and her face pulled away making his wolf growl and hers whine. The fear was back and he could smell it. He panted and let go of her underwear. His eyes listed to meet hers and she whimpered, but she didn't look too scared, she was still lustful.

But they didn't have time to talk about it. Not when a tray had appeared in the opposite corner. Y/n had scrambled over there, grabbing at the pieces of pancake and the berries. Klaus cleared his throat and pulled his trousers back on, he felt embarrassed but he knew he couldn't be due to the circumstances.

He came and sat by her whilst she ate, he was watching over her. Klaus had become protective. The witches had come in one night and tried to take her clothes, to speed the process and since that night he made sure to stay close. He had to fight them off, he almost turned and they knew not to touch her again. He knew that they were still winning, they wanted him to feel possessive and it was working.

He would look around the room, searching for where they were watching them from. He could never find it. In the end his attention would end up back on Y/n.

Once she had devoured everything on her plate, she was snuggling up to him and ready to sleep. There wasn't much to do bug struggle and sleep. The only issue was when she needed to sleep in the daytime. In sunlight hours, it was far too hot to be touching, as the next week came by Klaus ended up sitting in just his boxers during the day. Y/n had torn her dress so it was shorter but eventually it was shredded entirely and she was left in her bra and panties.

It felt so much better in the day but at night? Klaus often worried she would die. Even with their werewolf bodies generating heat, she wasn't strong enough for the temperatures they were putting them through. He would be wrapped around her, on top of her, holding as much over her as possible so that she was as warm as he could have her. It was in the night that he would feed from her. It felt so intimate, too intimate and he couldn't have the witches seeing and he couldn’t have the combination of the heat, her body and feeding all at once so he did it in the cold and dark.

Sometimes, his hands would stroke her skin whilst he fed and when he pulled his mouth away from his neck he would give her little kisses as a thank you. But little kisses weren't a thing. They got sloppy fast and they would be dry humping in minutes.

Too many times one of them had cum in their pants. It resulted in them both completely naked. Y/n had clung onto her bra but he had torn it off her when in a frenzy.

Their lack of clothing made everything difficult.

Klaus wished that the witches could've drawn power from the times he had cum against her leg in the night but he knew that had to be inside her and they had to do it in unison. It was the only way.

He missed his family. He needed to get home, Hope probably thought he had left her but whenever he looked at Y/n, he couldn't ask her to do it. How could he? In the span of weeks he felt that he loved her, he couldn't hurt her.

They had been lead together all night and all day, despite the heat. Their mouths seemed permanently attached, always kissing, licking, loving. Klaus didn't realise how it would feel to cum without any friction. To simply get so hard that he couldn't hold it in. His cock felt like it had exploded with ecstasy. Y/n had giggled when it went all over her stomach, she had stroked his hair gently while he panted and let her kiss his jaw.

"I love you" He whispered to her one day, it was on the fourth week but they didn't know that. Time wasn't real to them. It felt like months had passed with the amount of time they had spent together.

Y/n didn't reply, it hurt him but he understood.

"Would you lie to me...so that you could get out of here?" She asked him a while later, voice weak and eyes avoiding him.

"No" He whispered. "If I were ever going to do that, I would have done that in the first few days. I promise you, I won't ever hurt you. That full moon and come and go, they can torture me but I will never-"

"We have to...I know we do...I just- I"

"I know" He murmured, stroking her arm. "I'll take care of you" It was a promise.

"They'll watch..." She whispered, and he could see that inkling of fear again. It only appeared when the witches were mentioned or showed themselves.

"I'll hide you" He whispered, he pulled her into his hold. "We can be right up in the corner, they'll only see me."

"They've already seen me" She uttered and his heart broke, he was sure of it. He cupped her face and pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm going to rip their eyes from their heads as soon as we get out of here, I promise you" He told her, his voice incredibly low so that they couldn't hear. Y/n nodded silently and sighed softly.

"Maybe just...try something smaller first?" She questioned and he tilted his head but caught on when she shyly touched his hand, his fingers.

"Yeah...we can do that" He whispered, caressing her hand gently and lifting it to kiss her palm. "I can do that for you" He nodded whilst his hands glided down her sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Y/n whimpered softly and closed her eyes, focusing on the intoxicating sensations he created.

His lips pressed to her cheek before scattering down her neck, sucking briefly to make her moan whilst his hands massaged her thighs. Y/n pressed herself right to him, her skin on his and her breath against his ear whilst he brushed his touch between her legs.

A low groan left him when he felt how wet she was, not that he expected less. She had been permanently soaked since they were put here. He had felt it through his clothes at the start, when they would move against one another; more recently she would grind on his thigh but he hadn't been able to really touch her how he wanted. She was much more aware than he was which surprised him with his years of restraint and experience.

Many moments of weakness had struck him. He would stroke himself as quietly as he could but he knew that she knew. They were both far too physically sensitive to feel the psychological shame. To begin with they did but now? They had accepted the desperation. They were submitting to it.

That was obvious when his forefinger slipped inside her with ease. Y/n whimpered and curled her fingers against his shoulders whilst her pussy clenched. Klaus pushed a second finger in with only slight resistance and slowly moved them in time.

"It's alright" He mumbled, kissing the side of her head "You're nice and wet for me" He whispered and she moaned softly. Her eyes squeezed shut and her head rest against his neck to muffle her sounds. His thumb hovered over her clit, encouraging her to move her hips in time with his hand.

They started tentative and gentle but the heat took over soon enough. His digits moved inside her as quickly as physically possible, her hips bucked in a frenzy and her moans were no longer hidden and quiet. She was loud, desperate, hungry for him.

Klaus bit down on his tongue to shut himself up as he pumped three fingers into her enthusiastically. He was certain he could stretch her wide enough for his whole hand but he didn't need to. She bit down on his shoulder when she came around his hand with no warning other than a broken cry.

He expected her to be exhausted but she only seemed more eager for him to finally fuck her. Her mouth was on his in seconds, begging him to take her. His fingertips rubbed her clit, trying to bring her down from her high but it only riled her up further.

"Love" He mumbled, a groan to his voice, "Sweetheart"

Eventually she stopped and looked up at him. Her pupils were blown and he fought against every instinct as he cupped her sweet face and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry" she whispered "I got carried away"

Her cheeks were blushed red and it made him smile. "It's okay, I just didn't want you to keep going if you didn't actually want to" He murmured, knowing that the intensity of the witches magic was sending their bodies into overdrive.

Y/n nodded and glanced down at his hand with embarrassment.

"Why don't you go see if they've filled your tray?" He suggested softly so that her attention shifted. Y/n went to her feeding area and was able to relax and eat her only meal of the day whilst Klaus went to their usual sleep area. The remains of their clothes worked as some sort of bed and he sighed softly at the reality they were living in.

He promised himself that he would have her wrapped in the finest silk sheets, clad in the softest of clothes and fed the most exceptional of meals. He would care for her, he would get to care for his daughter again and see his family. He hoped they'd be happy to see him.

Similar thoughts swirled through his mind each night as he lay with her curled in his arms. Sometimes she would ask what he was thinking and he would tell her whilst she silently hoped that she would get to stay with him once they escaped.

As the full moon neared their scents became stronger and each little, harmless touch became much more intense. They both became more animalistic. Touch, food and sleep was all they wanted and it was all they got.

Klaus was far too happy with the recent development of being allowed to touch that sweet pussy of hers. His fingers were always inside her however after hours of having her fall apart on her hand she needed more. Which was how Klaus ended up with his mouth attached to her cunt for an entire night.

Much to his embarrassment Klaus had borderline begged her to touch his cock. Y/n had felt guilty for letting him struggle and stroked him until he was as much a mess as she had been.

They weren't aware that it was the night of the full moon when their lust overpowered them both.

The witches had the rest of their ingredients ready to draw from the two wolves once the moon hung high.

Klaus's mouth had moved up and down her body three times mover before his cock finally spread her pussy lips open. Her hands grabbed at his skin, her nails dragging up his back to pull him closer.

"Are you sure?" He breathed though he wasn't sure if he could actually stop himself if she said no. Thankfully she was all the more eager.

"Please Klaus, I'm sure, I'm ready" She begged, her eyes pleading with his and making him nod subconsciously and push into her.

The first few thrusts were as slow as he could manage as his fingers curled to grasp at the ground beneath them. His claws extended without him knowing whilst his cock thickened inside her and pushed against her soaking walls.

His head fell forward whilst hers went back and her own claws sunk deep into his flesh.

It only took a minute before control was tossed and Klaus's mind went into overdrive. His hips started to snap aggressively to hers, his ears longing to hear that harsh slap of their skin meeting and the immediate moan that left her lips.

His hands slid under her back to hold onto the back of her shoulders to get a good grip on her whilst he thrust into her roughly. Her legs were up around his hips and he could feel the heels of her feet hit against the base of his back with each thrust.

"God, I love you" He panted, his eyes burning gold as he clung to her tightly and pressed his lips to her jaw. Her cunt was so wet and hot, he never wanted to leave. She squeezed him so delightfully that his vision would go for a moment here and there.

Y/n couldn't close her mouth for even a second, her sounds were endless whilst she begged.

"Harder, Klaus. Please!" She cried, her claws shredding the skin of his back. He obeyed her demands and bucked his hips harsher, hitting that spot with more force.

Klaus watched her eyes roll back whilst her body tensed and tightened.

"Not yet, love" He murmured through a strained voice. He gripped her tighter and moved faster, chasing what his body desperately needed. Klaus groaned loudly, his mind was on fire, his body too. A fire of desire set them both aflame.

The witches gathered in a circle, their chanting synchronised as they felt the power start to flow.

Klaus held himself up with one hand whilst the other slide down the front of her body to dip between her legs. His cock continued to slide back and forth roughly within her whilst his fingertips began to circle her swollen clit.

Y/n was borderline screaming for him when she came undone, her jaw open when he sheathed himself to the hilt and released inside her.

Their foreheads pressed together, sticking with sweat as they panted warm air against each other's mouths.

Y/n felt the weakening first. It hit hard, as though every ounce of her energy was dragged out of her soul.

Klaus noticed her skin paling and worry settle dover him before he felt the same struggle. He muttered incoherently, trying to tell her it was okay but his mind went fuzzy but this time it wasn't due to pleasure.

He knew that the witches had completed their ritual but he hadn’t expected the effects to happen so quickly or be quite so intense. Unfortunately his thoughts were cut short when everything went dark.

It felt like days had passed when he woke again.

His head rang and his arms shifted to hold onto Y/n but she wasn't there.

Immediately he pushed himself up, ignoring the blaring ache throughout his muscles. His eyes were wide when he saw the familiarity of of his bedroom. Relief flooded him before the confusion and the worry.

"Y/N!" He yelled, his throat raw. Elijah appeared in the doorway, rushing over to his brother.

"Niklaus-" He spoke, voice clear as he put his hands on the hybrids shoulders. "It's alright- we got the coven, the majority are dead. We kept the leaders back for you to deal with and-"

"We have to go back right now!" Klaus told him, eyes wide. "Y/n's still there, tell me you didn't hurt her-" He yelled before a throat cleared and Klaus pushed Elijah out of the way.

Y/n was stood slightly behind Hayley, dressed properly for the first time in weeks and looking up at him with a tired but genuine smile.

He took fast strides before pulling her into his chest and smelling her now clean hair. He looked ahead of him and smiled when Rebekah came into view with Hope on her hip.

Y/n pulled away so that Klaus could hold his daughter and she rubbed her eyes. Hayley placed a gentle arm on Y/n's shoulder and gave her a smile.

"Welcome to the family" She told her, a lighthearted tone to her voice in hopes of keeping the positive energy of their rescue alive rather than the haunting memories of their time in the room.

[cvnntagious]

:: babydaddy!matt has no problem sticking up for brat!reader

matt wasn't the type to get easily riled up—especially not to where he felt the need to get physical about it. he was more the type to talk things out, most would say. and that's exactly why it was such a shock when you made your way towards the commotion in the living room to see matt with a guy under him, fists of fury hammering into the poor dude's face.

for a moment, you contemplated if this was something you even wanted to involve yourself in, given is was your child's father. but when matt's hand continued coming down repeatedly with no sign of stopping any time soon, his opposer barely fighting back at this point, you couldn't find it in him to let him just keep kicking this guy when he was so clearly down.

giving a harsh tug on matt's plain black t-shit, you pulled him off like he were a misbehaving dog. his head snapped back to see who had grabbed him, brows unfurrowing the moment he came face to face with you.

his breathing was ragged, waiting for you to berate him as the people surrounding you two scrambled to stop the guy who was once lying on yhe dloor from standing up. to his surprise, you pulled him along with an annoyed grunt, slipping out of the party amidst the chaos of the fight. "where're we going?" matt asked, only to be ignored as he followed behind you until you guys were far from the house.

"i knew this was a stupid idea," you finally muttered, letting go of his wrist to turn and look up at him as you two stood in front of his car. your eyes, scanned his face, maneuvering your head to get a good look at any injuries he may have.

matt's mouth opened, wanting to explain. he knew you didn't want to hear it. "m'not hurt," he replied simply, shaking his head as his eyes finally met yours.

you clicked your tongue, giving him a deep sigh as your eyes rolled for what already felt like the millionth time tonight. "what's your problem?" you asked, addressing the big fat elephant standing right in front of your guys' faces, "forget you're an adult now, hm? have been for almost five years... fighting's how you catch cases, dumbass."

the scoff that left his lips made you want to slap some sense into matt, giving him a look that said, 'are you a fucking idiot?' as you waited for whatever lame excuse he might conjur up. but you should've known better than that. you knew matt had never been the type to go out fighting recklessly, so you should've known something had seriously bothered him. and the fact that something so simple had slipped your mind made his reasoning all the more shocking. "kid was talking shit," he answered, eyes averting to look anywhere but you, one hand coming up to rest on his hip as if he were embarrassed to admit it.

again, you weren't paying enough attention. "yeah? what, he said your fancy little carharts weren't cool enough or something? so you had to go and risk literal jail time?" you insulted, growing increasingly more annoyed with each passing second, "i mean, seriously, i don't know what i'd do if that guy chooses to press charges—you better hope nobody recorded that."

matt looked at you with a softness to his eyes, feeling his chest tightening a bit at your words; for a moment, those last few sentences made it feel like you needed him. of course, he knew in the back of his mind that you were thinking of mazzy, but he'd like to remain at least the slightest bit delusional in the moment. "come on," he scoffed again, "it was about you... the guy was talkin' shit 'bout you. was i supposed to jus' let him?"

the confession made your breath hitch a little, head pulling back and brows furrowing in a mild confusion. then, you came back to your senses, the attitude rising within you apparent on your features. "what'd he say?" you asked with a quick work of your neck.

"s'nothing important." matt was quick to brush you off, a certain coldness washing over him.

"really? then why'd you fight about it," you pressed on, a brow raising as if to tell him you simply didn't believe him.

he shook his head, mouth openining and closing as matt thought of an excuse. he couldn't – or, moreover, he didn't want to lie to you. "jus' spewin' some bullshit about you, like, bein' overly difficult... said you rejected him an' shit earlier. i guess he was upset about it," he answered, realizing he may have overreacted a bit now that he was explaining it out loud.

"that's all?"

matt shot you a confused look, shrugging a bit. "yeah—i mean, i also saw him tryin' t'grab on you earlier, so..." even that that wasn't really all, truthfully. it was the way the guy was so persistent, eager to start some sort of smear campaign against you between all of his friends. his lack of regard for matt as he badmouthed you, knowing what matt was to you. what you meant to matt.

you were quick to push past him, another annoyed grunt as you shoulder checked him. "just let him talk next time," you mumbled through gritted teeth, "that's not your battle."

matt turned and watched you walk away, in utter disbelief that this was how he was getting treated for standing up for you. of course it was his battle. who else was going to fight it? you? absolutely not. that guy got what was coming to him, saying whatever so carelessly.

"stay if you want," you called back, head turning to look at him, "m'gonna stop by your house to pick up mazzy from chris and nick."

w/c : 971 taglist : @mattsturnswife, @br1annax, @x0x0bunny, @m4ttsmunch, @mattsnumberonehoe, @k4yd1, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @sturnstar169, @bxtchboy69, @strnilolover, @little-miss-shay, @sweetobservationface requested by anon.

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Old Man (Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3615

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI!, Sexual themes, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), p in v penetration (wrap it before you tap it), cum, swearing, use of "Baby" as a pet name, small alcohol mention, Older man/younger woman, Reader has female genitalia

Summary: After moving in to the mansion, you have developed quite the crush on the older, grumpy Wolverine. After he finds you walking the grounds one evening, what could happen if you face the fact that you've been flirting with each other for months?

A/N: I have always had such a crush on Hugh Jackman's Wolverine so Deadpool and Wolverine is like a dream come true

You were thankful that the other mutants had found you when they did. You had just lost your job, behind on your rent, and the most recent Tinder date had ghosted you. When a group of likeminded individuals came to you with a promise of a free place to stay, how could you say no?

Once you had arrived and decorated your room, Professor Xavier revealed the place wasn't quite free. With a mutation allowing you to manipulate food at will, he thought you may be able to help provide for all of the children and teenagers living at the mansion. Despite feeling a bit slighted, you were glad to have been given a purpose.

Over time, the mansion began to truly feel like home. You felt at peace in the kitchens, putting together meals for the other occupants. Many of the residents saw you as a maternal figure despite you not being much older than them, only being in your twenties. No matter your age, they tended to enjoy talking through problems with you over some tea and your famous chocolate chip cookies.

Something else that had grown over time at the mansion, alongside others fondness of you, was your own fondness for a particularly grumpy mutant. You couldn't explain it, as it didn't seem like you had much in common. You were generally a pretty bubbly, happy person, eager to speak with the children to help them out. The Wolverine was, well, not exactly described the same.

Nonetheless, he began to consume more of your thoughts. At first more of a schoolgirl crush, thinking about how you found him attractive. Of course you had thought about the fact that he was much older than yourself, but you didn't pay that much mind as you expected the little crush to go away over time. Instead, the crush became stronger and stronger until it was something you knew would not go away soon. Laying in your bed at night, you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to feel Logan laying in bed next to you. Or perhaps, on top of you.

Using your powers to conjure ingredients for the student's lunch, you let your mind wander again as you worked. You imagined what it would be like to feel the Wolverine's hands on you, walking up behind you while you were cooking to place his hands on your hips. Resting his chin on your shoulder as he relaxed into you, making you giggle as his beard tickled your neck.

"Do we have any beer?" Came a voice, startling you from your daydream. What startled you most was the fact that it was his voice, as you spun around to face Logan, hoping your face was not as flushed as it felt.

"Give me just a minute," you said with a smile at him. "You know Charles doesn't like to keep any on hand since there are so many kids here," you said slyly, "but lucky for you my powers can extend to food and drink."

He sat down at the table nearby with a sigh. You tried not to notice the picturesque way he seemed to pose as he sat, legs spread and chest puffed out. Stop being such a creep!

"Why couldn't he have found you sooner?" Spoke Logan. The lazy smile on his face as he said those words made your face hot, hoping he didn't notice as you got to work on his request.

Handing him the drink, your fingertips brushed his. As you moved to let go, you felt him linger.

"Thanks, bub," he said, looking up into your eyes as he took the drink from your hand. You turned away quickly, resuming your work in hopes he didn't notice the way that his stare made you heat up.

Thankfully, Logan chose not to stay long. Once he left the room, you felt you could finally catch your breath and focus on the task at hand.

-

This was a pattern that the two of you fell into. Simple conversations never lasted long, but they always seemed to end with a linger. Oftentimes you would find yourself trying to sneak a glance at the man, only to meet his own eyes before shifting your own away quickly.

You tried not to look too far into those moments, after all, there's no way that Logan would be looking deeper himself. Surely it was a coincidence, or perhaps it was merely a symptom of the social cues he tended to ignore in favor of brashness. He never seemed rude during conversation with yourself, but it may be correlated. At least, that's what you decided to believe. Allowing yourself to believe the alternative, that he was purposefully flirting with you, could never end well. You were not going to open yourself up into that kind of disappointment.

Walking the grounds of the mansion, you took in the cool autumn air. After a busy day, you thought a walk in the moonlight would be the perfect thing before making your way to your bedroom. It was a futile attempt to clear your mind before trying to fall asleep, even though you knew despite your efforts your mind would still drift to Logan before you did so.

With a sigh, you took a seat down on a nearby bench. Looking up at the sky, you were grateful Charles did not allow much light pollution nearby, allowing you to admire the stars.

"The hell are you doing out here?" Came a gruff voice from behind you, making you jump. Even though the suddenness of the voice breaking the silence making you jump, you knew who it was immediately.

"I could ask you the same thing, Logan." You said, turning to find the man coming up on the bench. He rounded the corner, motioning to the empty seat next to you as if to ask permission to sit down. You nodded, and he did just so.

The two of you sat in silence, taking in your surroundings. At least, that's what you assumed he was doing. The only surrounding you could take in now was him. He smelled good, like smoke and a cologne you couldn't place. Your thigh brushed against his seated so close, and as soon as your leg touched his it felt as if it could have caught fire, spreading through your body quickly. The power he had over you was undeniable, and you pled that he wouldn't notice.

Looking over at him, you saw him looking into the distance. You took the moment to observe the way he looked under the moonlight. His hair looked soft, as if begging to have hands run through it. The stars reflected within his eyes, giving them a subtle sparkle. Your eyes trailed down the slope of his nose, down to his lips. You were sure that if you were to kiss him, his facial hair would tickle your cheeks in the most delectable way. You felt your breathing deepen.

Logan turned towards you, a look that you couldn't quite place in his eyes.

"What are we doing?" He asked.

You felt your heart clench, unsure if you should be confused or nervous.

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled, "you know what I mean. As if you weren't checking me out a few seconds ago." You turned away in embarrassment, feeling your face heat. He continued, "we've been dancing around it for months. I should have put a stop to it a long time ago."

You felt your body heat in embarrassment even more. Not only had he noticed how you felt, but just as you assumed he did not reciprocate those feelings.

"I-I'm sorry," you said softly. Afraid that if you rose your voice any louder, you he would hear the wobble in your tone. You didn't want to cry in front of him, especially now.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," he said with a sad chuckle. "It's not your fault. When I said I should have put a stop to it, I mean an old man like me shouldn't be flirting with a young thing like you."

So he was flirting, you thought. Even though he seems regretful now, at least you know you weren't looking into something that wasn't really happening.

"It's not like I wasn't flirting back," you said with a sigh. "If I wanted you to stop I would have told you."

You could feel his eyes flip to you quickly, as if he was surprised.

"What did you just say?"

"I-I would have stopped you?"

A smirk made its way slowly onto his face.

"You wanted me to flirt with you?"

Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. "Was I not obvious?" There is no way he didn't pick up on your feelings. "Did you not just comment on me checking you out literally minutes ago?"

His smirk only grew, "maybe I just thought you were naive. Good to know there's more to it."

"You were flirting with me, thinking I was just naive?" You questioned, a slight burst of confidence making you reflect on what he had said previously. "A young thing like me?" He faltered at your words.

"What do you-"

"You said so yourself," you purred, confidence clouding your judgement, allowing you to reach toward him to place a hand gently on his outer thigh. You were sure to note his sharp intake of breath as you did so, only emboldening you further. "You liked flirting with me didn't you, Old Man?"

He nearly groaned at your words, sending a rush through your body. his eyes, previously glued to your hand placement, flicked back up to your eyes. They didn't stay there, and you noticed his heavier breathing as his eyes began to flip between your eyes and your mouth. Not wanting to wait for him any longer, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. You were right, his beard did tickle.

You kissed Logan softly, moving your lips with his as soon as he got over his shock. The softness of your lips on his, paired with the near-innocent way you kissed him drove him crazy. Logan's arms made their way around you, pulling you towards him so that you were sat on his lap. His strength was already known to you, but the ease of his action still made you squeak. If he can move you this easily while kissing you, your mind ran wild with what else he could be capable of.

He deepened the kiss, leaving you just about breathless. Your excitement, and ego, only grew as you felt Logan's own excitement growing under your lap. Hands frenzied across his chest, grabbing his shirt while he continued to use his arms to press you close to him. You didn't even register you had begun moving your hips against him until he pulled back, his head rolling back with a groan that was purely sinful.

"You're a little minx, you know that?" He grumbled, but made no move to stop your motions.

"Logan," you whimpered, batting your eyelashes at him with wide doe-eyes. His last thread of self-restraint snapped inside of him as he heard his name fall from your mouth. He had already let himself go much further with you than he had planned, but now that he's heard how you sound saying his name he needed to hear it, again and again and again.

He rose from the bench quickly, grabbing your hand in his much larger one.

"Come on," he grumbled, pulling you along with him. He moved hastily, but you kept up easily. His pace only made your growing sense of arousal quicken as well.

Before you knew it, he was pushing open the door to his room. The room matched the man, and you noticed how it smelled like him too.

"Sit," he commanded motioning to the bed. You had never thought yourself one to obey a man so easily, but something about his tone made you do as he said. Logan made sure the door was locked behind you both before returning to you quickly, taking your lips in his own again. His tongue darted out, running across your bottom lip. A moan escaped you involuntarily, and he relished in the noise. To have you here with him, so needy, so willing, so young. Even though he knew he should have blocked himself off from you as soon as he heard you were only in your twenties, he couldn't deny the fact that it only turned you on now that he had you in this position.

He held your thigh with one hand, using the other to snake under your shirt to cup one of your breasts over your bra. You moaned again at his touch, only encouraging him further.

"Take it off."

You pulled away from him just far enough to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You then reached behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing both articles of clothing to the floor.

Logan smiled, eyes not leaving your breasts as he spoke.

"Well damn, I just meant the shirt but I'm not complaining."

The blush that rose to your face spread down to your chest as well. The way you flushed at his words was gorgeous to him. He never wanted this vision of you to stop. There was a part of Logan that was still convinced he may be dreaming.

Wasting no more time, he laid you down. His bed was much softer than you would have guessed. One hand made it's way to one of your breasts as his mouth made its way to the other. You moaned as he squeezed one breast, using his tongue to flick over your nipple on the other. The heat pooling between your legs was nearing a point of becoming uncomfortable. From the rigidity of Logan pants where they pressed against you, you could assume the same was true for him.

You reached down, palming him through his jeans. Already, you could tell his size would break you. It's not a thought you minded. He groaned at the contact, the vibrations making their way from his mouth to your nipple. Every part of you felt on fire, overheated as each touch of his sent you deeper into arousal.

You gasped at the sudden loss of contact, Logan pulling away to pull his own shirt off his head. You made no attempt to look away from him, taking in his built chest and abdomen. You wanted to put your mouth all over him.

"Like what you see?"

He pulled his jeans off before crawling back on top of you, one hand fingering each of your nipples as he attached his mouth back to your own. He captured every moan of yours into his mouth, as if devouring them would mean he could hear another.

Your hips has a mind of their own, craning upward towards the bulge in his boxers. As your clothed heat came in contact with him, he reciprocated with a growl, grinding down into you. Your mind spun at the increased contact, heat continuing to grow in your belly.

Logan pulled away from you again, making you whimper. His mouth trailed down your body, stopping at your breasts before continuing further. His fingers looped under your waistband, and he looked up at you as if asking for permission.

"Please, Logan," you whined with a wiggle of your hips. With your confirmation, he nearly tore the bottoms from your body trying to take them off so fast. Revealing your panties to him, he groaned as he saw the way that they were clearly soaked through. He loved the effect he was having on you.

The panties didn't stay on you long though, tore from you as well as you felt his warm mouth find your cunt. His tongue licked slowly from your hole up to your clit, nearly making you scream. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling your fingers in his tufts. The soft tug from your fingers make him moan into your pussy and you tucked that information away.

His speed increased, tongue flicking over your clit in sloppy circles. Your moans and whines only continued to spur him on, and you felt a finger prodding at your entrance. He pushed it in slowly, feeling your velvet walls clench around him.

If one finger feels this good, you thought, how the fuck am I going to take him?

He began to fuck you with his hand, adding a finger when you were ready and pushing slowly in and out of your soaking pussy. Combined with the movements of his tongue, you felt yourself reaching your peak quickly.

"Logan, I-" you whimpered.

"Come on baby," he said gruffly, only backing off your cunt long enough to get his words out before continuing his motions. "Cum for me baby. Show me how good you taste."

You moaned at his words, it being all you needed to push you over the edge. Your body shivered at the intensity of your orgasm, walls clenching around his fingers. Logan eagerly lapped up your juices as you came, only slowing down as your moans became breathier as you came down from your high.

" 'm gonna fuck you now baby," he growled. Despite having just orgasmed, his words sent a wave of tingles to your core. "That sound alright?"

You nodded, looking into his eyes as he made his way on top of you. He leaned down to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on his tongue.

"Use your words."

He took his length into his hand, mesmerizing you with the way he lazily jerked it in his hand.

"Please," you whispered.

"What was that?"

"Please, Logan, fuck me!" You cried.

"That's it," he said cockily as he pressed the head of his cock to your entrance. "Damn you're fucking soaking wet for me, aren't you?"

You could only moan in response, his cockhead stretching your walls as he entered you. It hurt as he stretched you in the best way, feeling more full than you ever have before you had even felt him bottom out. When he finally did, he used every ounce of restraint to stop himself from moving too much as he allowed you to adjust to his size. Before too long, you began to squirm under him. Your hands roamed his body, from his abs to his chest to his arms. With the way you whimpered under him, he was glad for your motions as he wasn't sure he could stay still much longer.

He began pulling out, before pushing back in tantalizingly slow. You moaned wantonly at the movement, feeling his dick twitch inside of you. You wiggled your hips, trying to push closer to him.

"Logan," you whined as if begging. Looking into his eyes, you could see how dark they were with lust. His pace increased, only making you louder as you kept your eye contact with him.

"Fuck baby," he grunted. "Not to bad for an old man, huh?" The way you moaned in response, mouth open in an 'O' shape as your eyes stayed locked to his told him he was correct. Your hands clawed your way down his chest, your eyes falling shut in your pleasure.

"Look at me," he demanded. You did as told, your big, lidded eyes filled with want nearing him towards his orgasm. All you could do was whine, whimper and moan, no hopes of formulating any real response. It was as if you were drunk on the way he felt inside you, pushing in deep and hitting all the right places.

"Are you gonna cum again for me baby? Let me feel you clench around my cock?" All his words did was make you moan louder, as if that were even still possible. You had never felt this level of pleasure before, and you knew you were going to be addicted. One of his hands made its way to one of your nipples, pinching it and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You felt your tummy flutter, clenching as you reached your second orgasm.

Your vision filled with stars, nearly screaming as you reached your peak again. Your walls clenched around Logan's cock, prolonging your orgasm as he continued to pound it in and out of your cunt.

You felt his thrusts begin to falter, grunting and growling as his movements became even harder and deeper than before. He suddenly pulled out, making you miss that feeling of fullness as he jerked himself off with his hand, spilling his cum onto your stomach and breasts.

As you both began to relax again, he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way his seed looked across your body, your flushed face and the way your breasts moved as you huffed breathlessly.

"Take a picture," you joked, "it'll last longer."

"Can I?" He replied cockily, breathless himself as he cocked an eyebrow making you giggle.

After helping you clean yourself up, Logan laid down next to you with a deep huff, pulling the blanket over the both of you.

"We've got to start doing that more often," you whispered. His arm opened for you, letting you snuggle into his chest sleepily as he wrapped his arm around you. He placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

"Oh baby," he chuckled softly, "after all that, I don't think I ever want to stop."

You drifted off to sleep, feeling protected under Logan's grasp, happy you had decided to take that walk.