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underthetree845 · 1 year ago

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How to Say "I love you"

Chapter Four: The Stars in Your Eyes

Chapter Index

Armin/Reader

Cws: AFAB reader, Reader is Eren's twin sister, modern high school au, getting lost

About 7.4k words

Summary: Armin and Reader continue to follow Hannah and Franz on their date, and are thrown into a situation neither of them could have ever dreamed of.

The only quality time you really ever spent with Armin was at the bookstore. Since he first brought you there when you were twelve, the rest of your friends hadn’t really shown much interest. If they did, Armin would usually try to divert the conversation or come up with some excuse as to why he couldn’t bring them there that particular day and suggest a different location. If anyone questioned where you two sometimes disappeared to, he would just say you were going to study or read at the local library, since it was unlikely that any of them would follow you there anyway. It wasn’t to be a gatekeeper or anything, he just felt a certain need to preserve the hidden little part of the world you two shared. Sure, it was a public bookstore, literally anyone could walk in at any time, but in a way, it felt like a safe haven. You made an effort to go there with Armin frequently, and had even managed to make friends with the owner. His name was Louis, and he was quite old. He looked to be around the age of Armin’s grandfather. It was strange, both men got the same glint in their eyes when they looked between Armin and yourself.

Those aisles, dusty wooden shelves, hand-woven rugs, that old-fashioned cash register, you could probably paint a picture of it just from memory. Even if the bookstore did close down one day, you knew it would always hold a very special place in your heart.

Outside of that bookstore, sure, you would talk to Armin when you sat next to each other in class or occasionally drop by his place to return a book or visit briefly, but outside of that, Eren and Mikasa were almost always a part of the group. Not that you minded your little foursome, it was quite nice to have a close circle of friends that you trusted so deeply, but you sometimes found yourself wanting to spend time with Armin and only Armin. Were there things he ever held back from saying because of the presence of your brother or Mikasa? Did he ever want the same thing?

Those were the thoughts that fluttered around your mind as you strode next to the boy, glancing over at him every so often and keeping a safe distance from your target.

You had to take a selfie sometime today, no way you were passing up the opportunity to capture Armin in a bucket hat. Where did he even get it?

“Looks like they just got their ice cream,” Armin voiced, eyes trailing the couple in front of him, “and they’re stopping to sit at that park bench.” You nodded, observing the situation quietly as your pace slowly came to a halt.

“That means their date is almost over,” you whispered, your heart sinking ever so slightly. You didn’t want it to end quite yet. Although it was selfish, part of the reason you were happy about Hannah and Franz’s date was because you got to spend so much time with Armin. “He seems really into it, make the evening memorable!” you messaged Hannah quickly before tucking your phone back into your pocket.

“Y/n…” Armin began softly. You looked over and noticed that his gaze was placed longingly on the ice cream stand.

“Yes, Armin?” you questioned, a fond smile growing on your lips at his shyness.

“Um… I…” he mumbled. Armin looked down at his hands with pursed lips, fidgeting his fingers around themselves.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?” you suggested, taking one of Armin’s hands in yours in an effort to ease his nervous habit.

“Well, only if you want to,” he replied. A fuzzy feeling grew in his chest at the unspoken intimacy of his hand in yours. You’d done it many times before, it was a special little gesture that he associated with you. No matter how much it made his heart flutter, it also made him feel safe, reassured.

“Well, I do,” you said, bringing your hood over your head and taking a step forward.

Now that you knew both Hannah and Franz had each asked one of their friends to follow them, you and Armin had little reason to worry about one of them calling you out.

You both lowered your facemasks once you reached the stand, eyes widening at each tempting option on the menu. The place had quite the variety for being a small little ice cream shop at the edge of a park. You’d never actually been there yourself, but the amount of times Sasha had recommended it to you was getting ridiculous. She'd be happy to hear you'd finally gone.

“So which flavor do you want?” Armin questioned, turning to glance at you as your eyes scanned over the text.

“Hmm, probably a double scoop of this one,” you replied with a point. “What about you?”

Before Armin could answer, the man inside the little shop took notice of the customers at his window and strode over with a wide grin.

“Hello there kids!” the man huffed, “What can I do you for?” He looked to be about middle-aged, there were a few pictures of some kids taped to the back wall. His hair was black and curly, a few gray streaks coming from the side. He had a scruffy beard and joyful eyes, an apron tied to the front of his wide frame. For a moment you couldn’t help but wish you had an ice cream vendor for a father instead of a doctor.

“I’ll take a double scoop of this please, Sir,” you said with a polite smile, pointing to the flavor on the menu.

“Cone or cup?” the man asked.

“Cone please,” you replied, and he set to work with his scooper.

“And for you, lad?” the man questioned, glancing up at Armin with a friendly smile.

“Oh, um… could I please have one scoop of strawberry and one scoop of coconut in a cone, please?” the boy asked, a slightly anxious smile on his face. You gave his hand a squeeze and he glanced at you with a thankful expression.

“Of course,” the man smiled, “there you go, and there you go.” He handed you both your orders and rung up the total. This time, it was your turn to surprise Armin by handing over the money.

“Y/n! I can pay for my own,” Armin pouted, and you had to stop yourself from squealing at how cute his bottom lip looked jutted out like that.

“Oh please, you paid for dinner. At least let me do this. Please, Armin?” you insisted, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

God. Not that look. It made him weak every time. Armin felt his heart rate increase and had to look away for a moment. You were too cute for words, he couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay…” he trailed off, slightly flustered, “thank you.”

“Mhm!” you hummed, handing the money over to the man and having a taste of your treat.

“I’ve been seeing so many young couples lately,” the man sighed, looking down thoughtfully as he wiped the counter with a rag. He wore a slight grin on his lips, his voice wistful.

“O-oh no! We’re not-” Armin stammered, a slight tint coming to his cheeks.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you chuckled nervously. A small part of your heart felt stabbed at the reminder of what you’d always known. “Oh, I see, my mistake then,” the man replied with a slight bow of his head. “Either way, you two seem to get along very well, and I hope you have a nice evening.”

You and Armin both voiced your thanks as you walked off, still half-flustered by his assumption. You could have sworn you heard the man chuckle when he thought you were out of earshot.

“They’re getting up,” you noticed, watching as Hannah and Franz rose from their park bench smiling and laughing to each other. You wondered if they would become an official couple after this date. Would they tell their friends or keep it a secret? If they didn’t want anyone to know for the time being, you were more than willing to seal your lips, and you knew Armin wasn’t the type to expose their secret either.

First of all, Armin was just a trustworthy, good-natured person in general. That was something you’d picked up soon after meeting him. Second of all, the two of you already kept quite a few secrets between each other that not even Eren and Mikasa knew about.

For starters, the bookstore was one of them. It was the perfect little hideaway that the two of you could always count on to escape to.

You knew about the secret note tucked in the back of Armin’s book, the one from his parents.

You knew the secret ingredient to Armin’s grandfather’s marvelous stuffed sourdough recipe, although that was more like a secret between the three of you.

You knew that Armin had never really gotten over his fear of the dark. He would always squeeze your hand a little tighter or walk a little closer whenever you turned into a dark street at night, which to be honest made you feel safer too.

He didn’t cling to your nightshirt like he did when you were kids, which you enjoyed profusely teasing him for, but he still preferred to have a salt lamp on his desk or a wall plug-in nightlight to illuminate the way. Armin just felt uneasy at not being able to see what could be there. He was embarrassed, but you found it endearing.

He knew plenty of your secrets too; like the reason your mother couldn’t find her green dress shoes for your cousin’s wedding that day (they were buried in the muddy part of the woods out back). In fact, they probably still were to this day.

He knew that you’d kept a small collection of rocks and seashells in a sewing box underneath your bed because Eren would make fun of you for it.

He knew that you’d always fall asleep the fastest if someone ran their fingers through your hair while you dozed off, although he wasn’t sure if you knew that one yourself.

On a deeper level, you and Armin shared things that weren’t what you’d call secrets, but things that came with an unspoken promise to not talk about with just anyone.

You shared each other’s thoughts, guilts, anxieties, sorrows, joys; you confided in each other. It was like an invisible force pulling you in. The way his cerulean eyes stared back into yours, tinted with trust and compassion, made it impossible not to want to open up to the boy. It was almost like Armin had become a part of you. He felt the exact same way.

“Wait, isn’t the bus stop the other way?” you tilted your head, eyes following Hannah and Franz as they began to stroll in a direction that definitely wasn’t the way to the bus stop that would take them home.

“Maybe they’re taking the long way?” Armin squinted his eyes. Surely Hannah and Franz would have told you if they’d planned to go to a third location, right?

Just then, both of your phones vibrated and you each dug around in your pockets to read the message.

“Just going on a quick little walk, it won’t be long, you can wait there! <3” the message from Hannah said.

“This will be fast, we’re just going on a walk. Best if you wait there since there aren’t any other people in this area, it would be obvious if we were being followed.” Franz typed.

You and Armin looked at each other for a moment, contemplating the unexpected situation. “So I guess we just wait here?” Armin asked, replying to Franz’s message and slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"I guess so,” you replied, doing the same and leaning back on the bench you were seated at.

The orange and pink swirls of the sky slowly faded into a dim blue, and before you knew it, the sun had almost completely set. Minutes passed like hours as you awaited Hannah and Franz’s return.

“Do you think they got lost?” Armin turned to you anxiously. His arms were crossed and his leg had been bouncing for the last seven minutes. He was definitely worried. You wondered if he’d worry about you like that if you got lost.

“Everyone who lives in Paradis knows this park like the back of their hand though, how could they be lost?” you replied, your worry bleeding through the feigned smile you had placed on your face. Armin frowned at this. He didn’t want you to try to hide your emotions just to make him feel better.

You both decided to message Hannah and Franz just to make sure they were okay. You at least wanted to see them get on the bus to go home, it had been over twenty minutes since they disappeared between the trees.

After another five minutes of no reply, you shot up from your seat and balled your hand into a fist over your chest.

“That’s it, I’m going to look for them,” you declared, slinging your small backpack over your shoulder. Armin stood up next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“But Y/n, what if they come back and we’re not here?” he protested.

“And if they don’t come back? What if something happened to them?” you insisted, your brows furrowed as you stared at the ground in front of you.

“I don’t want you wandering the park alone at night,” Armin’s tone was firmer than you expected.

“So come with me,” you placed a hand on top of the one he placed on your shoulder and you heard his breath stutter nervously. His eyes bore into yours as he mentally contemplated the idea before letting out a sigh.

“Okay, but if we don’t find them in under a half hour, and they don’t message us, then we come back and tell someone so they can help us find them,” Armin exhaled, removing his hand from your shoulder.

“Okay!” you grinned, taking a step forward and pulling the boy along, “Thank you, Armin.”

Every crossroad you came to looked exactly the same, and the trees only seemed to get closer and closer together. Your hope of finding Hannah and Franz quickly slowly faded, as did the last bits of daylight in the sky, and now you had a completely new problem to deal with.

“So how many times have you been through this park to say that ‘Everyone in Paradis knows it like the back of their hand?’” Armin questioned, his tone laced with irony.

“Apparently, not enough,” you sighed in defeat, turning a corner only to be faced with the same rock you had left a third pencil mark on ten minutes ago. “This is getting us nowhere,” you groaned, crouching down and resting your forehead on your palms.

“Don’t worry too much, we’re bound to make it out eventually,” Armin tried to reassure with a gentle smile as he took a pencil from his bag and added another hashmark to the rock. It seemed to taunt you.

“Is your phone still not showing any service?” you asked, checking your own phone screen before slipping it back into your pocket. Your worry had subsided as much as it had grown when you found that you had lost cell service. That was likely the reason Hannah and Franz hadn’t been replying to you before; their phones weren’t receiving anything.

“Unfortunately,” Armin sighed. He stood up and looked at your curled up form on the ground. “Hey, really quick, why don’t we change our voicemails to say that we’re lost in Fritz Park so that if anyone calls us, they’ll know where we are?” he suggested gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh! Great idea!” you popped up from your seat. Armin was happy to see that hopeful glint back in your eyes. “How did you know to do that?”

“Just reading online,” the blonde replied, not being able to help the small smile that tugged on his lips. He was happy to be able to impress you, at least a little.

After a little while longer of wandering along the path, it seemed you two had taken at least one correct turn, because this time, after rounding the third corner, instead of the rock, you were met with a cobblestone plaza of some sort.

There were four street lamps in each corner, a small kiosk with two vending machines, and little green weeds growing between the gray stones. There were six brown benches total, four on each side and two in the middle back to back. The trees seemed to create a sort of barrier around the square, only parting to mark the beginning of more paths.

“I think I have enough left for one water, at least,” you voiced, strolling up to the vending machine and opening your wallet. Both you and Armin had chugged your bottles after roller skating earlier, and not bothered to buy new ones. To be fair, you didn't think acquiring more would be this much of an issue.

Armin watched from behind as you slipped the coins into the vending machine, the glow of the cold light from inside illuminating you with a hazy glow. The machine was old, it whirred as it ran and the bottle landed at the bottom with a thump. The little metal flap squeaked as you swung it and reached your hand in, feeling the cool plastic hit your fingertips. You cracked the lid open and tilted your head back as you allowed the refreshing liquid to flow into your mouth. You closed your eyes with a sigh. It’s probably close to eight by now… you thought, estimating based on the last time you checked your phone, someone is bound to look for us soon. I told mom I’d be back a little after dark, but I didn’t tell her where I was going specifically. I hope she calls me.

You opened your eyes again and removed the bottle from your lips. After screwing the cap back on, you were about to throw it in your bag before you noticed Armin closing his wallet and putting it away with a dejected sigh.

“Hey, aren’t you going to buy water?” you questioned, tilting your head as you looked at him.

“I don’t have enough…” he trailed off, zipping his bag closed and looking up at you. Your heart panged. If he hadn’t gone out of his way to pay for your dinner, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Here, you can finish mine,” you offered, reaching the bottle out without a moment of hesitation.

“What? I can’t do that,” Armin refused, feeling his heart suddenly hammering harder.

“Of course you can. Come on, you need to drink something,” you insisted, pushing the bottle into his chest. Huh? Why are his cheeks going red? you wondered.

He hesitantly took the bottle from your hand and twisted the cap off. It was only when his plush pink lips made contact with the rim of the bottle that you realized why he seemed so flustered earlier.

D-did I really just… your mind stuttered as you took a half step back, make him indirectly kiss me?!

You felt your cheeks bloom with heat while your veins ran cold. It was like your thoughts were stuck, replaying the same moment over and over. Your haze only lasted for a moment longer before you blinked and shook your head.

Come on, what are you, a child?? All you did was share a water bottle. Even if it does classify as an indirect kiss, it was completely necessary to our survival! you took a deep breath and prayed that Armin wouldn’t be able to read through your expression.

“H-here,” he said meekly, handing the bottle back and making an effort to avoid your eyes. He left a little bit at the bottom, how considerate. You wordlessly took the bottle from his hands and slipped it into your bag, fumbling for a moment before looking up at Armin again. The silence was deafening.

Armin’s cheeks burned as he looked at the ground.

Why am I making this weird? I was going to say something… what was it? his brain raced a mile a minute. You were going to die if this lasted much longer.

“Oh yeah! I-I had an idea!” Armin stammered, snapping his head up, a shaky smile on his lips.

“Great! Tell me,” you replied. The relief washed over you like a cool wave on your skin.

“Well, s-since it’s the trees that are blocking our signal, I figured if we reached a point of higher ground, some calls and messages might go through,” your heart jumped with hope at the idea, and he spoke as if it wasn’t the most flawlessly ingenious solution to your problem anyone could think of. “We might even be able to find an online map of the park.”

Armin had always been able to do that, give you hope. Even when it was you picking him up off the ground, his unwavering spirit, even if you had to polish it sometimes, is what always made you believe that you could keep moving forward.

He made you believe that there was something in this world worth living for, beyond just doing it for other people. Living to be by Armin’s side was motivation in itself, but he had shown you possibilities you would have never even considered before.

Armin had grabbed your hand and taken a leap into the pages of his books. He told you about cultures from around the world; thriving ones, dying ones, the ones in the little corners of the maps that no one could see. He told you rich stories of history, you looked forward to whatever new history fact he had to share on Tuesdays, the day after his weekly museum subscription email was sent out.

There was a period in your life, sometime last year probably, that you took an interest in astronomy; the study of the stars. Around the same time, "coincidentally," you began to notice books on constellations and star maps in Armin’s bookbag and scattered around his room. Your heart fluttered whenever he made the effort to share some of the information he just “happened” to pick up recently, or when he passed you little folded notes in class with tidbits of knowledge on the subject. You were touched by the amount of effort he had put into learning more about a topic you were interested in. In fact, you still sometimes received messages whenever Armin came across a new astronomy fact once in a while.

Armin liked it because it reminded him of you.

His eyes always sparkled the brightest when he got to tell you about the sea. “A huge lake filled with so much salt that merchants could spend their entire lives and still not collect it all.” Sure, you had been there a few times before, but the opportunity came rare with the flow of your life and the distance it took to reach the shore.

Armin fuelled your curiosity for what the world had to offer. He made you want to try things, experience things, and you wanted to do it all with him.

He made you dream.

The burning in your legs grew less bearable with each step you took. You wanted nothing more than to find the nearest rock, plop yourself down, and never move again. Armin’s voice was the only thing that kept you going.

“We’re almost there, I swear. I’m sorry it’s taking so long, Y/n,” he huffed slightly, taking another determined step uphill.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m good,” you exhaled, and internally cringed at how obvious your lie was. Would you have to spend the night here? Were Hannah and Franz okay? You were tired, your feet hurt, your hair was a mess, and you were practically wandering through the park at night with no cell service and nothing but Armin’s phone flashlight to light your way. You wondered if anyone was looking for the two of you yet.

Okay no! you thought to yourself, Stay optimistic! We’ll be fine. We changed our voicemails and chances are that we’re likely to get cell service when we get far enough up. Probably. I trust Armin.

“My parents used to take me here,” he stated, a reminiscent tone in his voice, and your ears perked up. His parents? Armin didn’t talk about them often, he always said he didn’t have many memories from when they were alive, which was believable because he was pretty young when they passed away. “There’s a really pretty view,” he said quietly, turning off his phone light as you stepped out into a clearing.

“What vie-” you were cut short when it felt like the breath had been whisked from your lungs. Armin didn’t even need to point out the view in front of you, or rather above you; it was too spectacular not to notice.

A simple “Wow” dropped from your lips as your footsteps slowed and you soon stood in the middle of the grassy clearing. Your eyes felt glued to the sky, afraid that if you looked away for one second, it would all disappear in a single moment.

Your knowledge of astronomy bubbled to the surface, and you found yourself drawing constellations with your eyes. Shiho, Dragon’s Tail… the Crane… Pleiades… huh. I remember more than I would have guessed, you thought as you studied the twinkling lights above you.

It seemed like the longer you stared, the more stars appeared in between the ones you had been previously staring at. You had seen starry nights before, but never like this.

Armin had been silent since you made it to the top, and you looked over to see him gazing at the stars, lost in his own thoughts. He said his parents used to take him here. You wished you could’ve met Mr. and Mrs. Arlert, just once, to see what kind of people had brought such a wonderful boy into the world. You wanted to see what Armin was like when his parents took him here.

Maybe that’s what was bothering him.

“Hey, ah…” you said quietly. The silence felt wrong to break. “Wanna check for cell service?” you suggested, pointing to your phone as you took it out of your pocket.

Armin’s eyelids fluttered for a moment before he understood what you were saying.

“O-oh! Yeah, let’s do that,” he agreed, bringing his phone to his face and tapping the screen on.

As you were checking your connection, you looked ahead of where you stood and were surprised to find that you were on the edge of a cliff. Its rocky side led down to another field, where a few mountains were visible in the distance.

“I didn’t know this park was right on the edge of town,” you expressed, letting your hand fall to your side as you took a step closer to the edge.

“Yeah, it is,” Armin said as a small smile pulled on the corners of his lips, “This is also a really good place to watch the sunset.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to come back then,” you replied, and noticed as Armin twitched his eyebrow. “With a map, though,” you added, and Armin let out a chuckle. Watching the sunset here with Armin would be dreamy. If you’d decided to search for Hannah and Franz a little bit earlier, maybe you would’ve gotten to. “Hey, I’ve seen a view almost like this before, don’t they set up the summer festival somewhere close to this side of Shiganshina?” you asked as your eyes scanned the distance.

“Mhm,” Armin nodded, stepping up to stand beside you, “it’s held in the area just left of here, good eye.”

“Thanks,” your shoulders raised a bit at his praise. Honestly, to you, him knowing the fact was even more impressive. He’d probably be wonderful at Jeopardy. “I’m looking forward to your grandfather’s booth this year. Any new recipes?”

“You know he likes to keep it traditional,” Armin sighed with a light smile, “I’m also looking forward to it.” You grinned, not being able to help feeling giddy at the feeling of familiarity between you two. You had developed a level of friendship that could only be reached through the many years of life you both shared together.

Even if it hadn’t exactly been planned, or gone to plan, you were happy to have spent an entire evening with Armin. You were flattered that he bought you dinner, running into him was certainly an unexpectedly pleasant surprise, especially given the circumstances. Hiding in the back corner behind the wall made you feel close to Armin. You felt special, hiding together, sharing a secret that no one else knew. Roller skating was fun, he looked so cute wearing skates, and you loved when he would stumble and grip onto your arm for support before pulling his hand back with a bashful smile.

Everything seemed so easy with him. Laughing, sharing a meal, trekking through the forest late at night, talking, even to the point when you said things you didn’t even realize had slipped out before Armin was already reacting.

You were able to repay your roller rink dinner debt by covering the ice cream, which to be honest you would have been happy to do with or without being in debt to the blue-eyed boy.

Thankfully, paying for the ice cream didn’t put you out enough to not be able to afford a water bottle, but it was just enough that that’s exactly what you could afford; one. The image of Armin’s soft lips pressing against the bottle right after yours had been permanently imprinted in your mind.

You looked to your left and found that Armin had taken his bucket hat off and was currently stuffing it in his bag. It had been part of his previous disguise, but now it had probably just been making his head hot.

The moonlight reflected nicely off his blonde hair, it stood out an awful lot at this time, when everything else was dark in contrast.

“Were you not getting any cell service either?” Armin asked, zipping up his bag and letting it slide off his shoulder onto the wispy grass under your feet.

“No luck,” you sighed, doing the same and looking around. “Do you think we’re going to have to sleep here?”

Armin pressed his lips into a line and gave your surroundings a once-over before focusing back in your direction.

“Hopefully not,” he concluded, “maybe if we stay up here a while longer our phones will connect and we can call our families for help.” Although you could’ve said the same thing yourself, hearing it come from Armin did comfort you a little.

Without cell service, you could still call the police, but your town didn’t exactly have the most prestigious law-enforcement system; everyone knew it. You weren’t likely to get an answer from the SPD (Shiganshina Police Department) this late at night, Chief Roeg was usually too occupied lighting a smoke out back to be bothered with the phone. Marlowe had told you himself that his internship at the police department had led him to be disappointed in their lack of conduct.

Contacting the big city police wouldn’t do you much good; they would have trouble getting the SPD into action too, and if they did send some of their own officers and dogs to find you, it would take them quite a while to even reach the park, in which case you and Armin would have to sleep here anyway. Plus they’d be unfamiliar with the area.

Honestly, waiting to call your families or the local park rangers was the best bet.

“Then let’s wait,” you stated, bending your knees and allowing yourself to fall back into the grass. It was just as soft as it looked; if you stayed like that too long, you might actually fall asleep.

You felt Armin stare for a moment before tentatively lowering himself next to you and resting his hands by his sides with his palms up, eyes up facing the same way.

He was your golden boy, and as brilliant as he looked on a bright sunny day, with the sun shining through his hair, in his eyes, and radiating off his smile, you had always thought the night made his features stand out more.

The soft white light from the moon lit him up in an almost ethereal glow. His skin seemed velvety and smooth. His hair looked so soft, especially with that gentle breeze blowing through it. Armin’s expression was content, peaceful. His rosy cheeks and pink lips added a certain layer of warmth to his face, all the more complementing those striking blue eyes.

Maybe it wasn’t that you specifically preferred Armin to be lit up by sunrise or sunset or the gentle glow of the moon, maybe it was just that the nighttime seemed more fitting for him. He could calm the rage of emotions inside of you, he made you feel serene. Armin was soft, kind, never overbearing, but still shining and beautiful in his own way. He was always so willing to help others and be there to support those he cared about. He stood out amongst the darkness of the world, steady, comforting, bathing it in his light without even trying. He was like the moon.

There was certainly a sun inside of him, he just hadn’t let it out. For now, he was just reflecting its light.

You had been thoughtfully gazing at the boy for the past few minutes, so when Armin finally turned his head to look at you, it caught you off guard. You knew you hadn’t exactly done anything wrong, but you were still embarrassed to have been caught staring at him, so you looked away; a pink blush creeping up into your cheeks.

There was silence for a moment before Armin grazed your fingers and took your hand in his. Your heart jumped; this was the first time he had initiated the hand-holding.

Armin stared at the sky as he tried to calm his heartbeat. At this rate, you would be able to feel it through his palm.

“Is it how you remember?” your voice rang across the breeze, and he sunk into the back of his mind.

“I… I think so,” Armin replied with hesitancy in his voice, “to be honest, the details are fuzzy, but I’ll never forget the first time I looked up and saw all those stars in the sky. At first I actually thought it was magic!” You giggled softly.

“I’ve never seen stars like this before,” you sighed, “the closest I’ve gotten is the roof of my house.” Your eyes sparkled as you looked up.

“Eren told me that you guys used to go up there as kids on the clear nights to try to get a glimpse of the stars,” Armin said as a breeze blew over you both, “do you still go?”

“Hmm, not as much anymore. In fact we haven’t for quite a while,” your heart sunk a little at your words, “I’d like to, but Eren and Mikasa don’t seem like they have time to sneak onto the roof late at night. I don’t want to bother them with something like that, but it’s not the same when you go alone.” Armin sucked in a breath before he spoke.

“I’ll go with you,” he squeezed your hand gently, causing you to look over at him and find yourself meeting his gaze. “Th-that is, if you want. I’d be willing- no, I’d want to.”

Your expression brightened and you gave his hand a squeeze in return. “I’d like that too,” you smiled softly, “I know it’s just the roof of my house, but that place is very special to me.”

It was special to you because it was a place you and Eren had bonded. It was a place you could go without having to worry about your parents bearing over your heads. They had always forbade you from going through the skylight in your room, which was fair. Knowing how you two were as kids, you would be hurt by something much more complicated than just falling off the roof. There was one time your mother had asked you and Eren to drop off a small package at the post office for her on your way to school. Somehow, that resulted in the neighbor’s cat being dyed green, and that package was never delivered.

If there was one mistake your parents always made, it was telling you and your twin brother not to do something.

Ironically, the night you two first dared to climb onto the roof, you didn’t realize it would latch behind you unless you wedged something under it, so you got stuck. That’s what the flat rock sitting on your dresser now was for.

You were both too terrified to make noise and get the attention of your parents, plus there was a chance they wouldn’t even hear you anyway.

You and Eren had resorted to making your way around to the front of the house, jumping down onto the balcony, and praying that this wasn’t the one night your father had remembered to lock the door.

Sure enough, all you ended up having to explain to your parents in the morning was that you were tired because you were “-just playing a lot with Armin yesterday.” They had no real justification to not believe you.

Your roof was also special to you because it was the place you believed you and your brother had truly connected with Mikasa for the very first time.

It was a nice place to escape to after a long day, and one of the best places you had to cry when you wanted to be alone. It was also comforting to know that if you stayed up there long enough, either Eren, Mikasa, or the both of them would eventually find you and provide a nice shoulder to lean on. It was also a very nice place for talks.

“This place is special to me too,” Armin’s voice was barely above a whisper, “I remember running up the hill holding my mom’s hand, then my dad would swoop in from behind and pick me up, spinning me around while we all laughed.”

Your heart broke a little at his memory. No kid deserves to lose their parents so young, not like Armin had. But despite having every right to shut the world out, he still shined brighter than anyone you’d ever known. Even if other kids knocked him down, he always picked himself back up and never let anything make him stop dreaming.

“It sounds… happy,” you said lightly, disappointed in yourself for not quite knowing what to say. Little did you know, Armin’s heart swelled at your sincerity, and a small smile tugged on his lips.

“It was,” he exhaled, “My grandfather doesn’t even know about this place. He knows that my parents used to take me to the park to stargaze sometimes, but he doesn’t know about this exact location. I’ve never shown it to anyone before.”

“I guess you just showed me because it was a dire situation,” you concluded, “sorry about you having to expose it.”

“I don’t mind,” Armin replied, “I’m happy I got to share this with someone like you.” His eyes shone as they reflected the night sky, twinkling so beautifully above you. It made you think about how big the world really was, how much of it there still was to see.

“‘Someone like me?’” you repeated, turning on your side to face him, “What does that mean?” You rested your head on your hand and looked at the boy curiously.

Armin copied your position, and soon you were staring at each other face-to-face.

“You’re my… closest friend too,” he said softly, you could feel his breath on your face. “You’re special to me, Y/n.”

If he was your moon, you were his stars. He had never met anyone that shined so effortlessly. You touched the soul of everyone you knew, reaching out to the farthest corners, never leaving anyone behind. There were so many different layers and sides to your personality, each one unique and stunning in its own way. You knew Armin from the inside out. You knew exactly how to reach inside of him and light up his darkness.

When did your faces grow this close? Neither of you remembered leaning in.

The thin, wispy stalks of grass surrounded you and blew gently in the breeze. The wind was fresh and crisp, gently carrying along puffs of clouds in the sky. Like a painting, the stars and moon swirled together brilliantly above you, hung like teardrops, bathing you both in their cool glow.

You paid little mind to the scenery, too enraptured by the boy in front of you, your faces barely a whisper apart. The blonde hair on Armin’s head framed his face nicely, and it was almost too tempting to bring your hand up to run your fingers through it. His eyes seemed to be embedded with the stars themselves; they provided a better view than the constellations ever could.

The longer Armin stared at you, the more he wondered how someone like you could ever choose to be friends with him, to call him your closest friend, to reach out your hand. You never gave up on anyone, and didn’t hesitate to help those in need. You were the bravest person he knew. Yes, Eren and Mikasa had also stepped in to defend him countless times, but you provided safety on a deeper level.

You were the first person to step into Armin’s bubble. He didn’t think he’d ever meet anyone who he shared such a rooted connection with. It felt like you were a part of him.

He felt his heart rate pick up at a pace twice as fast. And as if all that wasn’t enough, Armin thought with a gulp, you’re absolutely beautiful.

With each passing second, time seemed to move slower and slower in a way you’d never experienced before. An invisible force drew the both of you in like magnets, inching closer and closer together. Your breaths mingled, neither of you entirely sure what to make of the situation, but neither of you wanting to stop. “Armin, you-” you whispered, before a vibrating sound came from your left sweatpants pocket. You stared at each other for a few more seconds before jolting apart and sitting up with your legs out on the grass.

You squinted before turning down the brightness of your phone screen and reading “Mikasa” underneath her profile picture. As much as you were relieved that the cell service seemed to be back on, you internally groaned before answering the phone. Not the best timing, Mikasa, you thought as you put the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” you answered, being met with a few seconds of silence afterward as if Mikasa couldn’t quite believe she was hearing you speak.

“Carla! She answered!” Mikasa called. You heard a “Seriously?! Did she finally?” from the other end in what sounded like Eren’s voice.

“Y/n is that you? Why haven’t you come home? Are you hurt? Is Armin with you?” you couldn’t answer Mikasa’s flurry of questions because just then, your mother snatched the phone and asked you a very similar string of questions as you tried to get her to calm down.

Armin had barely moved since you pulled apart, he was glancing between you and the grass, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

You noticed his cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, but to be honest you probably weren’t much better. Your heart still thumped as you beckoned Armin over so he could speak into the phone too and reassure them of his safety.

The two of you shared shy smiles and soft blushes as your mother’s rambling seemed to fade into the background. Whatever just happened, it was mutual; you could feel it in your bones. Armin didn’t know what to make of the situation, but he knew he had to experience being that close to you again someday.

Chapter Five: Without Words

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ficsforeren · 3 years ago

Text

Blissful Ignorance - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: Pornstar AU, Smut, Fluff, Light Angst, Romance, Humor

Series Summary: Over the last four years, you’ve become a rising star in the adult entertainment industry. Yet, you can’t seem to forget one of the actors you met in the very beginning of your career — Eren Jaeger. You might even say you’ve got a bit of a crush on him with how often you watch his videos. When you’re hired by Bellesa Films to shoot a sex video, they allow you to choose your partner, and without hesitation you request Eren Jaeger. And while the sex is bliss, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, you’re ignorant to the truth behind your years-long crush.

Chapter Summary: Broke and desperate to earn some pocket money, Eren Jaeger decided to do a part-time job in the sex industry by helping his older brother, Zeke, direct a porn movie. Little did he know that it would be a start of his romantic journey with you, a pornstar who was about to film a foursome right before his eyes.

Content Warnings: foursome, threesome, sex while being filmed, cream pie, sex with other people present in the room, rough unprotected sex, blow job, cunnilingus, face-sitting, squirting, fingering, hand job, orgasm denial, overstimulation, deep throating, heavy swearing, use of a leash and bondage, incest, dub-con, cum eating/cum play, degradation, praising, pet names, sex toys, choking, humiliation, spit play, tongue piercings, slapping, spanking, dacryphilia, public sex, female and male masturbation, 69.

Word Count: 12k

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

Eren Jaeger never dreamt of becoming a pornstar, but then again, maybe none of them ever did.

Just like everybody else, if you had asked him twenty years ago what he wanted to become in the future, he would say, “I want to be an astronaut!” Or perhaps a doctor, just like his father Grisha was, that would’ve been a lot more normal. Even until now, four years after he made his first professional sex tape, he’s still not sure why he keeps thrusting his dick inside someone’s cunt for a living. Money is obviously the first reason, and, well, getting paid to have sex is still a lot better than, say, having to earn a doctoral degree in engineering just to have his application declined by an old man working in NASA. It’s not the worst job in the world, being a pornstar. And with his 8.3- inches long cock and a face pretty enough to surpass forty percent of the females working in the sex industry, Eren can go a long way.

Except he doesn’t want to go a long way. He doesn’t want to keep fucking strangers or sex dolls or his own fist just so other people can cum all over their keyboards. But he's not brave enough to quit and find a normal job either. What if it doesn’t work out and he has to go back to live with his grandmother again? Those days after he graduated from high school, doing part-time jobs ranging from delivering pizza to playing small, unimportant roles in porn movies, Eren doesn’t want to do it again. He was poor, broke enough that he couldn’t even afford to have a cellphone. If it wasn’t because of his brother Zeke who frequently invited him over to work with him on set, he would’ve probably had tears for breakfast, sweat for lunch, and air for dinner.

Now, he gets paid ten thousand bucks a month, gets to cum at least five times a day, and motorboats a new pair of tits every twelve hours. So what if he has to suck a fat man’s balls every once in a while? People in prison do that all the time and they’re not getting paid for it. Life isn’t so bad for him, is it?

But of course, we always tend to crave what we can’t have, not appreciate what we do have. Eren wants to be better. He really does, he just doesn’t know if it’s the right path for him to take. Or maybe he just doesn’t know what the fuck he wants to do with his life. He just goes along with it as if he had no other choice. It’s always been like that for him.

Switching off the light on his nightstand, Eren heaves the heaviest sigh as he lies down on his bed. His arms are folded underneath his head, the ridges of his abs look pasty underneath the moonlight that seeps through his window. Today was rough. He had to have sex with two different girls this morning in the middle of the woods. Sure, he got to keep his jacket on, but he was freezing his balls off—literally. He was forced to get an erection quickly with almost no stimulation at all, had to have constant control over his ejaculation, and had to maintain his erection every time his co-star’s makeup was getting fixed. And if they had to fix their make-up for thirty minutes? Eren had to wait for thirty fucking minutes with his fingers around his dick and his testicles turning blue. Honest to God, it was torture.

“I want to quit,” he mumbles to himself, vacant eyes fixated on the ceiling with only darkness greeting him in return. Not a second after, his phone screen lights up, casting a white glow to his pale walls. With boredom in his eyes, he slides his thumb across the screen. Petra Ral, his manager, just texted him with an offer of a new gig. He snorts, talking to whatever deity he believes in by casting ice daggers to the ceiling. “I said I want to quit, you obnoxious fuck. See, this is why I don’t go to church. You never listen to me.”

His phone screen flashes again and this time his eyes widen in shock. He’s invited to shoot a forty-five minutes long video with Bellesa Films, a studio he has never worked with before—only because they’re a huge player in the industry and Eren’s acting skills suck ass (yes, pun intended). But that's not what causes his heart to palpitate.

It’s the fact that you are his next co-star.

Now, to be clear, Eren never gave a fuck about who he’d be working with. Shit, he never even went as far as remembering their names. It wasn’t like he was going to moan it during sex or anything. But you… You’re his favorite actress, aren’t you? And not just in the entertainment industry, you’re his favorite actress in the whole world. Sure, Florence Pugh is talented but can she give a lap dance to her man as you did to Jean Kirstein in the video you shot together in Belfast? Barbara Palvin’s beauty is unworldly but Eren knows for sure she’s not going to look as pretty as you were in your frilly lingerie with your tongue darting out as you waited for Armin Arlert to shoot his cum all over your face. You’re the prettiest fucking thing in the world but he adores you more than just your appearance.

Eren likes to think that you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to save his poor, poor soul (and wallet too) and bestow him with your beauty and grace. Of course, the only right way to worship that angel is to have one hand around his cock, the other one massaging his balls, and his lip bitten to suppress his moan as he watches that angel’s pretty mouth gets fucked by a BBC (funnily enough, Eren doesn’t know that BBC also stands for British Broadcasting Corporation, so when he followed BBC News’s official Twitter account, he was disappointed that he didn't get to see some deep-throating action on his timeline).

Except he doesn’t do it. When he watches your video, he doesn’t have his hand stroking his shaft. He doesn’t imagine himself being in your co-star’s position. He only watches it to see you, to see the way you act around your partner, the way you pucker your lips in a preparation for a kiss, or the way you moan, “Ah, yes, that dick feels so fucking good.” He only watches it to prove that you're lying.

Because you don’t smile like that, do you? Not in front of him, you don’t. You don’t moan like that either. You’re exaggerating it, performing as you should. But Eren knows. He knows exactly how you look when you feel good. He still remembers perfectly the way you moaned his name, moaning it in a way that doesn’t sound similar to any other noises you made with everyone else. He can still feel the way your walls clenched around him when you cummed hard on his cock, your toes curling in pleasure that was so intense, you cried out his name in this beautiful, sultry whine. He knows you. He remembers you.

And whenever he slept with someone else, both for his job or just for fun, Eren would close his eyes and imagine you in their place. It’s a shitty thing to do but he’s a shitty person to begin with so what else is new? He would try to recall the way you whimpered his name or the way you said, “Kiss me. I want to feel your lips on me,” a moment before he released his hot seeds inside you. To anyone else, it would just be a line that you’d probably practiced in front of your vanity mirror a few times. But that wasn’t it, was it? Because he knows you rarely kiss your co-star, as you would find it too intimate. You only kissed back, never initiated it. But with him, you seemed so desperate for it.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, immediately punching down numbers to his phone. “Petra? Yeah, hi, about that offer. I’m in.”

“You’re sure?” A feminine voice speaks from the other line. “I’m still bargaining since you don’t get paid as much as she would—”

At this rate, he would even pay the studio to let him have this job. “It’s fine. I’m in.”

“Err… Okay. Whatever you say. I’ll text you the address. Don’t be late this time, Eren, or I swear to God, you’ll have to fuck a horse on your next gig.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

***

Eren may be a half-assed pornstar, but today he’s a perfect gentleman who stays true to his words. He’s not late for the appointment. He’s three hours early.

Dressed casually in a washed-out denim button-down shirt with his long sleeves rolled up to his elbows and three of his top buttons unfastened, Eren stepped down from his car with his wayfarer sunglasses sitting low on his nose. He combined his outfit with a pair of dark jeans and high tops sneakers, looking like a high-class fashion model who tries to blend in by dressing up as your typical college student on his way to seduce his professor to raise his grades (which he would definitely be doing if he was enrolled in one—he’s a slut, no matter what universe he’s in). He had his long hair tied up neatly in a ponytail at first, but he changed it into a messy bun before he climbed down his Ford, not wanting to look like he’s overdressed for the occasion, even when he probably had sprayed half a bottle of his Bvlgari perfume this morning (on his neck, his chest, his armpits, and his… nether region, just to be safe).

“Looks like somebody is excited,” the female director for the day, Hange Zoe, greets him with a handshake and a smile too wide to be natural. Eren almost looks down, afraid that he's popped up an erection (because, frankly, he had been thinking about you in that unlined lace plunge babydoll you wore on your latest video on his way driving here), but thankfully, Hange continues with her words before he’s dumb enough to do it. “I thought you were one of the staff until I saw how pretty you were. None of my stars ever arrived this early.”

“I, uhh…” Eren scratches his nape, his blush blooms beautifully on his strong cheekbones. “I was dropping my niece at her school this morning and—well, it was closer to get here than to go back to my house—apartment, so, umm,” he clears his throat, “I just… I went here.”

Hange presses her lips tightly in a white line to keep her smile from breaking. “Well, I hope you fuck better than you lie. Have a seat, Eren. Can I call you Eren?”

With his face practically bursting into flames, the boy sighs. “Yes, you can call me Eren.” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as requested, facing the director who sits on a wooden chair with a cup of brewed coffee being held in one hand. The king-sized bed he’s perched on has square pillows with the words Bellesa House written on them, and Eren knows, from the way the room is set-up—with lightings and three cinema cameras directed toward the bed—it’s going to be the place where he gets to embrace you later on—in two hours and forty-eight minutes, to be exact, not that he’s counting (he just… glances at his phone screen every two minutes).

“Well, since you’re early, why don’t we start with your interview?” Hange suggests with a smile and Eren nods. It’s not like he has something more important to do. His only plan for the next two hours and—he takes a peek at his phone again—forty-seven minutes from now is just daydreaming about how soft your lips must feel against his (and how hard he’s going to fuck you later, obviously, but he tries not to think about it as it would be awkward to explain why he has a raging boner in a room full of people munching greasy hamburgers for breakfast).

“My interview?” Eren frowns. “I thought you were going to give me the script.”

“Oh, we don’t do that here, love.” Hange takes a sip of her coffee before she hands it over to her assistant, Moblit. “Okay, I’ll start asking you questions now,” she says, not noticing that Eren still has his forehead creasing in confusion. “We’ll start rolling the cameras on three. I want you to relax, okay? Just act casually like how you normally do. What I need to see right now is your honesty. You’re as handsome as a dream, honey, but you can’t lie to save your life so don't even try.”

“Hange,” Moblit chastises firmly, nudging her with his elbow. “You can’t say that to an actor.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” She winces. “Sorry.”

Eren can’t even utter a word. Partially because he thinks it’s true. He can’t act for shit.

“What I mean is right now I want you to be yourself,” she clarifies, glancing at Moblit for approval. The second she sees him nodding, she breathes in relief. “Treat me as a friend, okay? We’re just two besties in our underwears talking about boys—or girls—you know, whatever your sexual prefer—”

“Girls. I like girls.”

“Okay, girls then.” She beams at him, making gestures at the cameraman behind her. On her count, Eren straightens his back, preparing himself for the camera.

“Hi, welcome to Bellesa House,” Hange says, speaking with her professional voice from behind the lens. “How are you today, Eren?”

The boy probably can’t lie to save his life, true, but in front of these cameras, he somehow feels more at ease, as if it’s something that makes him feel at home. “I feel great. Never been better actually.”

Hange can see it too, the way he lets his taut muscles unwind, his legs stretched out casually as he speaks. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“So I assume you already know your co-star for today.” Eren nods with a sheepish smile forming faintly on his lips. “This is going to be the first time you’ll be seeing her again in like, what, three years?”

“Three and eleven months,” he blurts out, which he quickly corrects with, “Not like I’m counting or anything.”

Hange and Moblit secretly smile to themselves, finding his honesty to be adorable. “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous? Do I look like I’m nervous?”

“You kinda do, yeah.”

“I’m dying, actually,” Eren admits with an awkward laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my four years working in this industry.”

“Why is that?”

“I just…” He looks down as he places both hands on his lap, making a steeple out of his fingers. “I’m a huge fan of hers. She’s a fantastic performer and she's just... She's so beautiful.”

Eren seems like he wants to say something more so she waits for a few more seconds before continuing. Changing his mind at the last second, he nibbles on his lower lip, sitting rigidly on his seat like a thirteen-year-old boy facing his crush—which, in a way, he is because mentally he’s thirteen.

“Yes, she’s very beautiful,” she says, “And you’re a very handsome man too.”

His timid smile only adds more beauty to his face, another shade to his personality. “Thank you.”

“I was informed that she was your first partner on the screen?”

“Yeah,” he admits it bashfully. “And I still feel sorry for her.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, it was my first time.”

“You think you were bad at it?”

He pauses for a good two seconds before he answers with a feeble nod. “I just… I didn’t have any experience in, you know, performing in front of cameras before, so… I’m sure she didn’t enjoy it.”

“Is that so? I don't think she'd ask to film together with you again if she didn’t enjoy it."

“Huh?” Eren blinks, lifting his face to read her expression. “She asked for me?”

“You’re adorable.” The director titters at the sight. “Yes, she chose you to be her partner today.”

“She—” He swallows thickly. “She did? I thought her agency decided to film with me.”

“Honey, didn’t your manager tell you about this? Here at Bellessa House, we let our performers choose who they want to have sex with. This is why I’m doing this interview with you. I want to know why you both chose each other.”

Oh yeah, shit, Petra did mention something like that, Eren remembers. He was just too busy drowning in excitement to actually let her words sink in. “She chose me…” he’s mumbling to himself, still somewhat baffled. “I can’t believe she chose me…”

“Yes, she did. I’m sure she enjoyed her first time with you.”

Eren’s skin contains enough melanin to stop his blush from becoming too apparent, but even so, he still turns as red as a ketchup bottle. “My ears are buzzing right now.”

“Don’t explode just yet,” Hange chortles. “Seems to me you have a little crush on her.”

“I have a huge crush on her, it’s insane,” he says, his mouth running on its own. He’s dizzy with anticipation, engulfed by elation that he can no longer remember the three cameras that record his reaction from each side of the room. Right now, he just sees Hange as someone he can finally pour his feelings out in the open. And boy, only God knows just how much he wants to let his emotions break free.

So, when Hange asks him, “Can you tell me what you like about her?” He just lets himself loose.

“Every time she looks at me, I just—” His thoughts are running too fast for his lips to form the words, but his eyes are expressive, filling all the blanks as they gleam full of wonder. “You see, when I have a girl that actually gives me eye contact that really makes me feel like I can believe her when she says the things that she says, I’m all about it. It brings back memories of my younger days when I didn’t have to lie about what I felt, you know? Cause, like—” He pauses to catch his breath. “In this job, we have to lie to each other almost every second because we don’t always get to work with the people we want to work with. So when you actually get that feeling of this person who just really wants to be around you, it kinda sticks with you. And you want to keep feeling that. It’s addicting, you know? To be wanted for who you are and not this persona you display every time you’re on camera.”

“You feel like you can be yourself when you’re with her?”

“Yeah…” Anyone who sees him right now can tell that he’s lovestruck, even when he, himself, hasn’t realized it yet. “And I feel like… she can be herself when she’s around me too. Or, at least, I hope so.”

The way he speaks so softly, the tenderness in his gaze—they morph Hange’s mischievous grin into a smile full of warmth. “What was it like the first time you saw her?”

“Oh, man…” He chuckles, his hand unconsciously moves back to his nape, a habit that shows whenever he gets embarrassed. “It’s a funny story actually.”

“Can you tell us about it?”

Eren can barely keep his smile to himself as he digs back into his memory. He’s repeated this one scene so many times in his head, jerked off to it more times than he has ever had sex in the last four years, which, to his dismay, is saying something.

It was at the beginning of spring, just like any other love story, he supposed (bold of him to even call this a love story) when you walked into his life. Perhaps he was just an idiot whose brain was only able to process things slower than normal people did because the second you walked past him, it felt like his entire world turned into slow motion. He was twenty-one at that time, but he was gawking at you like a twelve-year-old finding out that he just had his first wet dream.

Speaking of his wet dream, you were her. The girl who showed up in his dream. The girl who said absolutely no word and just straight up took off his pants and went down to her knees. That girl—that fucking goddess who graced his dream(s)—had your hair, the same curve of your lips, your eyes, your nose, your tits—your eyes. He meant eyes. Fuck, he’d said that. Well, she had your face and your body. And if that girl had spoken a word, Eren knew she would’ve sounded like you. You were the girl of his dreams. Literally.

Or, maybe you weren’t, but at that moment, he decided to make you one. Who cares, right?

“Done drooling yet?” His step-brother, Zeke, asked him, and when Eren took a second longer than necessary to answer, he slapped a thick bundle of his script against his head.

Eren groaned, rubbing his skull to soothe down the pain. “Jesus, what the fuck is that?”

“The script you should be handing to our lead.” He smacked him again, just for fun, before he pushed it to his chest. “This is the first time I’m taking you to my workplace and you’re drooling all over my carpet. Shame on you.”

“What, I can’t appreciate a pretty girl?” Eren snorted as he took the script in his hand.

“Oh, you think she’s pretty? Do you?”

“Yeah, speak louder. I don’t think she heard you yet.”

Zeke actually screamed out your name, garnering attention from literally everyone in the room. Panicking, Eren slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you stupid monke.”

Zeke licked his palm, leaving Eren with no choice but to retract his hand in disgust. “You’re here as my assistant for today, so, please, for God’s sake, please actually do your job for once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?! I never—”

“Hey, Director, I think I heard you calling my name. Is there something wrong?”

Eren spun around so fast, he felt like he was a fucking ballerina. There, standing right before him, was the prettiest angel he’d ever seen in his life, no matter how corny it sounded in his head. Your voice was even more beautiful than he had imagined, and you looked so damn adorable with your eyebrows stitched together in curiosity, your face slightly painted over with concern. You were staring at Zeke before, but then you shifted your gaze toward him and Eren swore, he felt like he received enlightenment. The world was suddenly ten times brighter. You were shining, blinding his eyes. You were basically the sun and he was just a tiny speck of dust about to be blown away by the wind. His existence didn’t matter, not to you, not to anyone else, but yours meant the world to him.

“Hey,” you tossed him a polite smile, which caused him to gulp. “Is that for me?”

Eren looked down at his body, trying to figure out what you meant. What were you referring to? Is she talking about my dick—

Zeke smacked him on the head again, using his bare fist this time. “Her script, you idiot.”

“Oh my God, are you okay?” You checked up on him, landing a hand on his shoulder before you directed a scowl to his brother. “Did you really have to hit him that hard?”

“Jesus, not you too.” The blonde man rolled his eyes. “I’m literally gonna pretend you both don’t exist in my life until the cameras are rolling. Try not to flirt and memorize the script for me, yeah?” Then he walked away just like that, exchanging conversations with Colt Grice, the actor you were going to work with for the day.

“You all right?” You asked him again when you noticed Eren hadn’t said a word. He had his eyes on you, staring at you like you were the hardest equation to solve. You tilted your head to the side, practically holding a neon sign above your head that said, “HEY, LOOK AT ME! I’M SUPER CUTE!” which forced him to look away with a blush painting his face.

“I’m—I’m fine,” he said, moving the script toward your direction. “Here’s your, uh, your thing—the script—your script.” Oh my God, I’m gonna kill myself, he thought to himself. There was literally nothing more embarrassing he could have done than stammering out his every word.

Except he pushed the script a little too far and he accidentally grazed his knuckles against your chest.

He gaped, eyes shaking in horror as they blatantly stared at your boobs. This is it, isn’t it? He screamed in his head. This is the end of my life. The end of the fucking world.

He expected you to scream at him, probably even slap him in the face just like how the girls behaved in those hentai mangas he read (he was broke, okay? He couldn’t afford to jerk off to a playboy magazine). But to his surprise, you were laughing at him. Taking the script off his frozen hand, your smile was as angelic as the rest of your features. You introduced him to your name, offering him your hand. “May I know your name?”

He answered your question by restating your name then he shook his head and said, “Eren. I’m Eren.”

“Eren…?”

“Jaeger.”

“Oh, no wonder you two seemed close! You’re Zeke’s younger brother?”

“I’m his younger step-brother,” he felt the need to clarify. “You?”

“Uhh… I’m his actress for the day?”

Sometimes, sometimes, Eren wished he could just shut the fuck up. Literally every word he said just made him look ten times dumber. “Ah, yeah… Of course, I knew that. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

Cause you’re so pretty and I’m so stupid. “Cause you’re pretty stupid.”

There was a moment of silence before your mouth shaped a little, “What?”

Then he blinked. He blinked again. And he blinked again.

Then he combusted into flames. “I—” He was so traumatized by himself that he lost the courage to speak. “I’m an idiot, sorry. I will just… go.” And he did. He just fucking walked away with one hand pressing against the side of his temple, his brain trying to find the quickest way to die without exuding more pain than he already felt.

Eren had always been awkward with girls, but he had never been this awkward.

This was just painful to watch.

But, of course, God was not on his side that day—just like any other day, actually. Because by the time they started shooting, a staff member came by to inform them that one of the extras couldn’t arrive on time. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Zeke groaned loudly into the air. “Eren, come here!”

And just like that, he was upgraded from being an embarrassing and fucking cringe director’s assistant to a super embarrassing and fucking cringe extra on set.

“So we were in a club and we sat on a couch,” Eren recites his story to Hange. “The main guy—Colt—was sitting right next to me, and she was on the stage, and she was stripping. You know how strippers always look sexy in the movies? Well, I don’t find them that way in real life. I just find them awkward, and like… I don’t know, it’s just a massive turn-off for me. But when I saw her on that stage… God, it was like a life-changing moment for me. She was the one who regained my faith in strippers. She was… She was breathtaking. So gorgeous. I actually went back and watched that scene a few times more and I got a massive erection the whole time. I was like, if I had dollar bills, I would’ve given her all the fucking money I owned.”

His rambling only stops when he hears Hange giggling from behind the camera. Then his face catches fire. “Wait, this is just between us, right?” Eren panics. “You’re not gonna show this interview to her, are you?”

“No, of course not,” she says, assuring him with a sweet smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

***

“So, Eren said he really enjoyed that performance of you stripping.”

“He did?” You gasp, a palm rising to your mouth to cover your gleeful grin. “Oh my God. It was so embarrassing for me to do that ‘cause I’ve never really danced in front of people before. I was so nervous about it.”

“Was him being there one of the reasons why you were nervous?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” you admit meekly. “More than anyone else.”

Just like Eren two and a half hours ago, you’re now sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed but in a different room. You’re dressed casually in your favorite shirt that showcases your curves and a pair of denim shorts that ride up your thighs. You have your hair cascading to your shoulders as you remember well how he said you looked even more beautiful with your hair down. You’re doing your interview with Hange, just like he did, while Eren is still locked up inside the other room, not allowed to see you just yet.

“Was there an attraction which added to the nervousness or…?“

“Yeah, definitely,” you answer, giggling lightly as you feel heat creeping up your cheeks. “Whenever I felt his eyes on me, I couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing. He was sitting on the couch in front of me, right there next to my co-star whom I should be focusing on, and I kept telling myself to don’t look at him right now. Just focus on the script, you got this.”

The waves of laughter that depart from Hange’s mouth indicate that she’s satisfied with the actors she hires today, as you both are so head over heels for each other. “You thought he was cute?”

“Oh, Hange,” you dreamily sigh. “I thought he was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” And your smile speaks nothing but sincerity, just like your eyes. “But you know what really attracts me to him? It’s his smile. His little crooked grin and his personality—that combination for me—it’s the first thing that pulls me toward him. And his eyes… God, have you seen his eyes? They’re gorgeous. But, yeah, his smile and personality are what make him so much more attractive to me. He can be everything at once. Shy and confident, brave yet timid, loud then quiet. He’s adorable. Even from the very first time we met when he was still so awkward around me, I already thought, like, oh, I think I have a crush on you.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right?” You feel bashful now that you say it out loud. “This is bad, please don’t let him know I’m fangirling over him like this.”

“Are you his fangirl?”

“Big time.”

“So you’ve watched his videos?”

“Every single one of them, yeah. More times than I’d like to admit.”

“Have you ever touched yourself when you watched it?”

“Hange!” You gasp before you both trade laughter. “Off the record, though—and I mean it, Hange, I want you to delete this part.”

“I promise I’ll delete it.”

“Okay, well then, yeah, you got me.” You throw your hands in the air before you raise your legs and hug your knees to your chest, burying half of your face behind them. “Yes, I’ve touched myself several times to the thoughts of him. How can you not, though? He’s Eren Jaeger. There’s a reason why he’s so popular among the ladies.”

“He told me the story of your first meeting with him. He said he messed up real bad.”

You giggle, your chest warmed by the thought of him still remembering your first encounter. “Yeah, you’d think with a face like that he’d be all suave and smooth with the ladies, but no, he was just like… this shy boy next door. He’s so charming. And whenever he smiles, you can just feel like a little…” You gesticulate, trying to find the right words.

“Butterflies in your stomach?” Hange offers.

“Yes!” You almost shout in agreement. “Yes, exactly. I’m like, hmm, baby, do it again.”

“You’re now one of the most popular rising stars working in the industry. You could’ve chosen literally anyone you wanted, but when we asked you, you immediately requested him without even having to think about it for a second.”

“Yes, it was a clear choice for me. I’ve always wanted to do this with him. We haven’t had the chance to hang out much because we’ve always been busy with our own schedules, but our first time on screen was… This may sound corny, but it was… magical, to say the least.”

“You don’t hear the word magical often when you talk about sex in the adult entertainment industry.”

“Yes, exactly! I thought we really hit it off. We have good chemistry with each other, and like I’ve mentioned literally a thousand times before, he’s really adorable. He’s so sweet and gentle to me. You know when you meet somebody and you just, kind of, know—like, you feel that pull and you’ve got that mental connection that you can’t find with anyone else. I feel that way when I’m with him. And when he took me to bed, the only thing I could think of was… Oh, this feels right. So, I’m just trying to take it a step further now.”

“Toward what? Getting married?”

“Hange!”

“Okay, one last question before we get on with the show,” your director chortles as she dodges the cushion you threw at her. “Tell me the story of your first time together. Tell us what happened behind the scenes.”

“Oh, shit, okay. Wait, let me prepare myself.” You clap both palms to your cheeks, hoping it would soothe down the burn. “Okay, so, it happened around three months after we first met.”

***

It was in the middle of a hot, summer night when you met him for the second time four years ago. The weather itself was sweltering enough to drench your clothes with your sweat. You could only imagine just how uncomfortably hot it would be when you had to perform a foursome in about forty-five minutes from now. You were holding your script in your hands, your eyes running over your lines, remembering the positions they wanted you to do, as your stylist worked on your hair, doing a final touch on your make-up. You were reciting lines to yourself, mumbling under your breath, when suddenly, you heard Zeke screaming, “Oh, fuck me senseless!”

You observed from the vanity mirror, listening to him grousing and yelling at a female staff, though he didn’t particularly direct his words at her. “Out of all fucking days, he just had to have his hernia acting up today, huh? Fuck this. I can’t reschedule again. I already have five other jobs lining up, I’m not gonna waste my time just because Mr. Bertholdt fucking Hoover can’t show up on set.” He pitched his voice higher, whining mockingly as he imitated Bertholdt’s German accent. “Oh no, my intestine is bulging out, boo fucking hoo!” To say that Zeke was upset was an understatement. He was pissed. “We’ll change the script. Let’s just shoot a threesome.”

Another staff member raised a hand, interrupting him. “But Sir, we’ve already paid the actors to shoot a foursome.”

“Well, tell them to return half the money.”

Porco Galliard, one of the lead actors for today’s shoot, bellowed. “No fucking way, bro, a deal is a deal.”

“Oh my God, then somebody please be helpful and find me a new actor now! I need him to show up on set in five minutes!”

Eren was filling in as his assistant for the day too, but you hadn’t had the opportunity to say hi as you were dragged toward the changing room the second you arrived on the set. You had noticed him stealing glances at you, and the way he immediately looked away with a hand rubbing his nape whenever your gaze met in the mirror. He was adorable.

“Dude, chill,” Eren said, moving closer to where Zeke was standing with his fingers buried in his hair, yanking at his roots in frustration.

“I can’t just chill, you idiot,” his brother spat back—literally spat back, as you could see Eren wiping something off his face with his thumb. “Go make yourself useful for once. Find someone to replace Berholdt before I go insane. I don't have enough money to pay for another session of therapy, fuck me.”

Eren sighed. It was so unrealistic to have someone agreeing to a gig that fast, but an idea popped up in his head. The brunette chewed on his lip, contemplating his decision. Should I really do this?

You stayed mute on your seat as you kept your eyes on him through the mirror. For a brief two seconds, you saw Eren glancing at you again before he turned around and whispered in Zeke’s ear.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” the bearded man snorted. “You think my job is a joke, don’t you?”

“Shut up and just hear me out for a second!” Eren dragged him to the corner of the room where they could speak in private. You could see their limbs moving as they hissed at each other, but they were out of your hearing zone.

“I know it’s insane,” Eren uttered, his cheeks reddened by his own offer. “But I really feel like I can do it.”

“You’re telling me you want to be a pornstar,” Zeke repeated back to him, staring flatly at him. “That’s what you’re saying.”

Honestly? No, he didn’t. But he had read the script that he was supposed to hand over to Bertholdt, and he knew that there were a lot of nasty, nasty things they planned to do with you. And he wanted it. God, he wanted to be with you so bad, he didn’t care if he had to fuck you in front of twenty strangers in the room just to have a taste. Of course, he could try and ask you out on a date like a normal person, but with the way he acted during your first meeting—all stupid and awkward and just downright embarrassing—would you really say yes to him? He’d been staring at you like a creep too. You must have felt disgusted with him.

So Eren thought, if he couldn’t have you that way, at least he could try and have you... well, this way. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Well, it’s not my dream job but—”

“Eren.” Zeke placed both hands on his shoulders, sighing exasperatedly. “I love you, I do, but for the love of God and everything holy, please shut the fuck up.”

Yeah, it was probably too far of a stretch to be asking his brother this so suddenly but Eren was desperate. He wasn’t proud of his next tactic, but he knew for sure this was the only way to win his brother’s heart. “Brother,” he called him with a little pout, and he could see Zeke turning stiff. Eren rarely called him ‘brother’. It was always “Dude,” or “Dipshit,” or “Stupid fucking monke." Even having his little brother call him by his name was already something to be grateful for and today, right at this moment, Eren—practically with tears in his eyes, Zeke’s delusional mind said—called him, “Brother.”

And with those puppy eyes too, my God. “W-what is it?” Zeke swallowed.

“You can use me,” Eren convinced him, trying to look as vulnerable and innocent as possible, just like how a little boy would ask his brother to play ball with him when it was raining outside. “I swear, I won’t let you down. I never did, right?”

Oh, Eren had let him down many times before. It was a wonder Zeke hadn’t called the police on him yet. His little brother was a demon, Zeke knew that for sure, even in his good days, he was satanic. But right now, Eren looked nothing but an angel to his eyes. Fixing his glasses, Zeke turned away from him. “It doesn’t matter if you want to or not, Eren. You don’t have what it takes.”

And when Eren lost his patience, they started yelling at each other again. “Dude, why are you like this?! You’ve never even seen me in bed! Go ahead and call my ex. I’m sure she’d say that I’m a beast when it comes to fucking ass.”

“First of all, eww,” Zeke made a face. “I did not need that information. Second, having sex in porn is different than having sex in real life.”

“How is it any different?!”

“For starters, you need to hold your erection for a long time—”

“How long? Thirty minutes? Forty? Fifty? I've done it. Give me a fucking viagra and I can hold it for three hours.”

“Jesus Christ.” When Zeke prayed to his Lord to give him a chance to have a heart-to-heart moment with his favorite little brother, he should’ve stated his prayer more specifically because this conversation he was having here right now? This wasn’t it. “Look, even if you can, I still can’t hire you.”

“Why nooooooot?” Eren was whining, maybe he would’ve even stomped one foot on the ground, throwing tantrums like a child, if he didn’t remind himself that he was a fucking adult trying to land himself a gig in the sex industry. "Look, I’ll even do it for free."

"That's not the problem."

"Okay, I'll pay you then."

This is getting ridiculous, Zeke groaned internally. Eren didn't even have a penny in his wallet to begin with. "No."

"But why—"

“IT'S BECAUSE YOU HAVE A SMALL DICK!”

There was silence and Eren was sure that the whole room could hear him (you couldn’t, though, they were still too far away for you to catch on their words). “You think I have a small dick?” Eren questioned him, his voice suddenly turned deep.

“We took a bath together when we were kids, Eren. I know what your dick looks like.”

“I was five.”

“Pretty small dick for a five-year-old. I’m sure it hasn’t changed much.”

“Yeah?” Eren took a final stride toward him, closing whatever the gap between them as he unfastened his belt. Unbuttoning his jeans, he hooked his fingers around his waistband and his underwear and tugged them forward, far enough for Zeke to be able to take a peek inside his pants. “Go on then, have a look.”

From your point of view, as you were still eyeing them from your vanity mirror, it looked so fucking weird because they were yelling and spitting at each other’s faces before, and now Zeke was blatantly staring at whatever it was that was hiding inside Eren's pants, gawking at the sight. Then they both looked into each other’s eyes and suddenly, Zeke turned around and clapped his hands in the air, “Everybody, get the cameras rolling!”

Once you and Pieck Finger—another actress they hired to be Bertholdt’s partner for today—have finished with your make-up, you both stepped into the bedroom where you were going to shoot three different sex scenes with the boys. And by boys, you meant Porco Galliard and—

Eren Jaeger.

“So, Eren,” Zeke said, rotating on his heels to face him. “You’ve read the script, right? You've memorized all your lines?”

Eren nodded, a faint blush still painting his cheeks whenever your eyes met even in a fleeting second. “I’m paired with Pieck first, and then…” His gaze drifted toward yours again, his face turning a shade redder as he croaked out the words, “W-with her.”

Zeke smacked him on the head. “Stop blushing, you idiot.”

“I wasn’t—I’m not blushing!”

His older brother left to take a seat on his director's chair (it was really just an old wooden chair, but Zeke insisted it to be called one), positioning himself behind the camera once he was finished with his final briefing. The story was simple. You, Pieck, Eren, and Porco were four college students hanging out in your dorm. You and Pieck were dressed in skimpy clothes—tight tank tops and shorts that do absolutely nothing to cover the bottom half of your ass. Porco had the most basic white tee thrown on him, combined with gray sweatpants and the perfect slicked-back hair. Eren looked sharp, wearing a red flannel shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, allowing you to notice just how protruding his veins were. He must have been lifting weights, or maybe he was really good at sports. Either way, his whole attractiveness just increased by tenfold.

Zeke was still conversing with the cameraman about the angle they were planning to use when you approached Eren and tapped him on his shoulder. “Hey.”

Eren noticeably gulped at the sight of you tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He was so tall, tall enough for you to have to stand on your toes just to capture his lips in a kiss. Your height difference also gave him a nice view of your cleavage. “H-hi.”

“So, we meet again.”

“You remember me?”

“I tend to remember guys who were brave enough to call me pretty stupid during our first meeting.”

He looked like he was about to pass out. “I swear that was not what I wanted to say.”

“What did you want to say then?”

“T-that I was stupid and that you…” He did it again. That thing where he scratched his nape as he cast his gaze downward. “You looked pretty.”

Your lips curved beautifully into a smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

With the way you were leaning in close, trying to see the expression he tried to conceal, you just looked a hundred times cuter than before. It left him dizzy, leaving his mouth running beyond his control again. “I do. You're so pretty, I can't stop myself from thinking about you all the time."

His sudden honesty, the way he blurted his sentence and looked like he was about to explode right after, caused your heart to throb harder than it ever did. And you felt overwhelmed by it, leaving your thoughts blank for a moment before you turned yourself to the side, landing your gaze at the staff who ran back and forth on set, trying to assure everything was in order.

“So, umm…” You cleared your throat. “Your name’s Eren, right?”

The way you called his name—God, he wanted to hear it again. You made his name sound ten times prettier. “Yeah.”

“It’s a pretty name.”

“T-thanks.”

“Are you from Germany?”

“Umm… No.”

“Oh, sorry. I just thought I heard a hint of a German accent in your voice when I heard you talking to Zeke. I took German back in college—well, before I dropped out anyway. But I must have heard it wrong.”

He could feel it, feel the way his heart just fell a little harder for you. “Well, my grandparents are Germans, yes, but I was born and raised here in the states.”

“So you do speak German then.”

“Whenever I’m with them, yeah. They can’t speak English so I had to learn their language to talk to them. It’s something I’ve picked up ever since I was young, as I was raised by my nana. I think I learned German first before I knew English. Why?”

So, he’s over six feet tall, looks like a model, smiles like a fucking angel, has broad shoulders and the most stunning green eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, probably has washboard abs too, and he speaks German, you thought, looking up at the ceiling. You really do have your favorites, huh?

“So, Eren. Have you done this before or is this your first time?”

“My first time having sex with a stranger? No,” he admits it rather diffidently as if it was something to be shameful about until he remembered that you did it for a living. Then he straightened his back, trying to be respectful. “But yes, this would be my first time performing in front of people. And, well, being recorded too.”

“You’ve never recorded yourself having sex for fun?” You teased him with a naughty twinkle in your eyes. “Such a shame. Would’ve paid to see that.”

His fingers reached his collar, tugging on it as he felt like it was choking him. “H-how about you? How long have you been doing this for a living?”

“A couple of months. That time when we first met? That was my second gig.”

“It was?” His voice rose in surprise. “Wow, I never would’ve thought. You were so good at it.”

“At what? Having sex?” He almost choked at your words. Wanting to tease him even further, you slid your hand up his arm, feeling the way his biceps tense underneath the fabric of his shirt before you wound your hand around his neck. Pulling him lower, you whisper alluringly in his ear. “In a few minutes, you’ll get to see just how good I really am.”

Eren choked. He really was choking on his own spit this time, and you walked away with little giggles breaking past your lips, joining Pieck who was already sprawling on the bed.

“Dude, pull your shit together,” Porco said as he walked past him. “If we have to re-do takes just because you keep blushing like a fucking schoolgirl, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Eren honestly thought he was going to mess up a lot too, probably enough to get himself fired in the first ten minutes. But surprisingly, everything went smoothly. Zeke always prioritized getting a clear shot of your expression or Pieck’s, alternating between taking close-up shots of the way Eren’s cock was sliding in and out of Pieck’s cunt or Porco’s tongue circling your clit. The director knew well that Eren’s decision on filming the scene wasn’t because he was certain that he wanted to join the sex industry, which was why Zeke was being as careful as possible to not film his face.

It worked well for Eren, because that meant he didn’t have to act much. He delivered a few corny lines at the beginning, acted shy when both you and Pieck were taking turns in seducing him—which in his case, took zero acting skill as he was indeed very embarrassed about it. Then he kept his dick hard while Pieck continued to edge him by giving lazy strokes around his shaft—which, again, took zero acting skill but massive talent, Eren would argue, as it was very hard (again, pun intended) to stop himself from ejaculating too quickly. Because although he had zero interest in Pieck, her hands were very pretty and they curled around him just right. The sight of you rubbing your pussy against Porco’s face wasn’t helping him either.

Foreplay was torture for him, but fortunately, Zeke asked them to move on to the next part of the script. Both you and Pieck settled yourselves on the bed, facing each other as you both went down on all fours. Eren, no matter how much he wanted to protest, was directed to position himself behind Pieck, while Porco stood on his knees behind you. From where he was kneeling, Eren could see your face clearly. You had a smile plastered on your lips when you told her, “Sorry, I gotta borrow your boyfriend for a while.”

“Are you my boyfriend, Pokko?” Pieck asked the blonde man with mischief misting her slanty eyes.

Porco, stroking himself to maintain his erection, reciprocated with a snort. “We’re fucking engaged, Pieck.”

Both you and Pieck laughed and Eren felt a bit left out. He didn’t know these people, he only knew you and so he kept his eyes on you, focusing on your cupid’s bow lips, memorizing how pretty they looked when you grinned, or laughed, or giggled in such a juvenile way. He felt like he wanted to ruin you, turned that titter into a breathless moan of his name. And your eyes—the way they gleamed, the way they twinkled, the way they stared back at him—he wanted to see his reflection on them.

Fuck, she’s looking at me. Eren felt his breath catch in his throat.

“You okay there, big boy?” You asked him, biting the corner of your lower lip to keep yourself from grinning. Was it a form of seduction in your case, Eren didn’t know, but man, you looked like the sexiest devil he could only dream of visiting his room at night.

Eren nodded, it was the best he could offer you right now and you smiled again. That cute little fucking smile. he wanted nothing more than to feel it on his lips.

On Zeke’s cue, Eren and Porco entered you and Pieck at the same time, pushing you both forward and forcing your lips to meet. You moaned when you felt Pieck’s mouth parting yours, her slick tongue plunged and plundered. Eren sank his nails a little harder on Pieck’s hips as he pounded his hips faster, encouraged by the pretty sounds of your whine. Eren had watched his fair share of porn, but damn, none of those girls ever sounded as sensual as you.

How are you going to sound when you moan my name?

You broke away from the kiss, letting out a little, “ah, ah, ah,” with every thrust Porco gave you. Eren’s eyes darkened. Jealousy gnawing at his chest like a hungry wolf.

It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me.

He punctuated each of his thoughts by driving his cock harder inside Pieck, forcing her to mewl in response, her toes squirming in pleasure. The sight of her drowning in rapture stole a giggle out of your lips again and Eren’s jaw hung slack on his face, eyes hungrily absorbing every bit of your lewd expression.

“Feels good?” you asked Pieck but you kept your eyes on Eren’s viridian ones, as if you were asking him instead.

He grunted in response, slamming his hips forward until Pieck fell face first on the bed, wailing, “Ah, fuck yes, right there!”

You were biting on your lip again as you watched the muscles in his stomach flex with every movement. Funny how he could barely maintain your gaze longer than three seconds before, and now he was staring down at you like you were his prey. He wanted to ravish you, devour every inch of you, and it showed vividly in his eyes. He gathered Pieck’s hair in one hand, bunching it together in a messy ponytail before he used it to keep her in place, tugging on her roots as if he was pulling on a dog’s leash. Pieck rose back to her hands again, her elbows shaking as she maintained her weight and the pressure of Eren’s forceful thrusts on her palms and knees. He never let his gaze falter away from yours as if he was showing you what he could do, what he was capable of, and what he was planning to do to you later. Your skin burned in anticipation, your stomach somersaulted.

“Ah, harder, baby,” you keened with a sense of urgency. People behind the camera would think you were encouraging Porco with your words but you didn’t even pay single attention to your co-star. None of you did. The world, right now, only revolved around you and him. You were urging Eren to go faster, telling him to fuck her harder, commanding him to show you just how strong and virile he could be in bed so you could imagine him doing the same thing to you.

Pieck finished first and she cummed with a broken whimper escaping her lips. Eren could feel it, could feel the way her walls flutter around his cock, clenching him tightly. You could see how intense Pieck’s orgasm was from her face, and it sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins too as if your body mimicked hers in reflex. Your brain kept thinking about Eren driving himself to the hilt inside you.

Ah, I want to cum, you both thought at the same time, two pairs of hazy eyes locked together.

I want to cum inside her.

I want to cum on his cock.

“And cut!” Zeke’s voice rang like a clap of thunder, striking you both and slapping you back to reality. “Good job, everyone. We’re gonna take a ten minutes break before we shoot the next scene.”

Pieck was panting hard when Eren pulled away from her, his cock twitching in his hand, still eager for some heat and friction. Porco did the same, sliding out of you before he went to Pieck’s spot, checking on her face with gentle fingers. “You okay?” he asked, and she smiled in response, completely fucked-out. Her fiancé helped her get up from the bed, casting a menacing glare in Eren’s direction before they both stepped down the bed.

Red bruises were forming on Pieck’s porcelain skin, a shred of evidence that he was holding her too roughly before. “I’m… I’m sorry,” Eren told him awkwardly as he jumped down the bed, stepping away to give them some needed space. He wasn’t sure how to behave around them, now that he knew they were a couple and not just co-stars sharing a scene.

“It’s fine, you were just doing your job,” Porco replied, but he did it through gritted teeth. There was anger, clearly, though not as intense as his jealousy. But Porco and Pieck had been working in this industry for a while. They knew how to keep it professional.

You stepped down the bed when your stylist called you over, wanting to fix your make-up before the next scene. As you walked past Eren, still nude with sweat coating your skin, you let your hand glide from one side of his waist to another, tossing a little inviting smile over your shoulder that left him stunned on his feet.

“BRO!” Zeke slammed both hands on his shoulder, making his body jolt in surprise. “That was some real good fucking you just did!”

“Oh, umm…” Eren was disoriented, still couldn’t detach his eyes away from your naked hips as they swayed side-to-side with every step you took. “Yeah.”

“I never doubted you for a second, bro,” Zeke giggled, almost a bit femininely which came out as nothing but disgusting. “I can't believe I came up with this whole idea. I'm a genius.”

If Eren was listening to him, he would’ve responded with, “Bitch, shut the fuck up, you tried to push me away by saying I had a small dick.” But he wasn’t. He knew how the next scene was going to go, and he was so excited, his brain turned haywire.

The next scene started with the four of you sitting on the bed, not a single fabric was latched onto your skin. You were perched on Porco’s lap, while Pieck was on Eren’s. The two boys were watching your mouth move against Pieck’s in a frenzied kiss before you broke it off. Slanting your lips against Porco’s slightly rougher ones this time, you let Porco taste the cherry flavor of Pieck’s lip gloss. His fiancee, on the other hand, had her tongue in Eren’s mouth, her fingers clawing down his chest before she moved them up to trap his jaw and angle his face to the side. You did the same with Porco, kissing down his neck as you guided him to his right so he could mesh his lips with Eren’s.

Porco kissed him with the rage he was holding inside, making it look like intense desire in front of the camera, when the truth was, he wanted to make Eren pay for what he did to Pieck. The taller male groaned when he felt Porco’s teeth sinking into his lower lip, hard enough to make it bleed. He took a handful of Porco’s golden hair, yanking it back so Eren could dominate the kiss this time.

The foreplay didn’t take longer than three minutes before you and Pieck pushed the boys down to the bed at the same time. With a sultry gaze, you kissed Pieck one more time, crooning, “He’s all yours, baby,” as you switched positions with her. Pieck climbed up Porco’s chest until she was hovering above his face, her palms glued to the headboard as she rubbed her clit on his tongue.

You didn’t just head straight into the game like what the script told you. “Hey, handsome,” you greeted Eren with a coquettish smile, turning down the volume of your voice to avoid getting picked up by the camera. If you weren’t filming right now, you would’ve let your mouth form the words you wanted to say, teasing him over and over, edging him both with your lines and the obscene sway of your hips.

Eren looked wrecked beneath you, his eyes were dazed as he kept them plastered to your face. His lips, red and bruised by Porco’s violent kiss, were parted in such an inviting way.

“Hey,” he rasped, his hand sliding up from the dip of your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades. You knew he was on the verge of saying something, maybe praising you with his words just as much as his eyes were. To stop him from ruining the scene, you lowered your head and captured his lips.

And God, they were soft.

Despite how rugged he looked and how gruff his voice sounded, Eren’s lips felt just as smooth as Pieck’s were, if not more. Even the way he kissed you, so delicate and tender, like a prince’s first kiss which almost stole a laugh from your lips because what kind of prince would do something as filthy as foursome porn?

His hand rose to gently frame your face, lips parting yours ever so slowly. You thought he would consume you with his kiss like any other man did, but Eren was patient in savoring every caress of your lips against his. When his tongue delved inside your mouth, he relished the feeling with a content sigh, his eyes closed shut in bliss, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear so he could see you better.

You both were taking your time in memorizing each other’s touch, tongues slow-dancing in the hot cavern of his mouth that you completely forgot what you were supposed to be doing.

“Cut!” Zeke shouted, freezing you both. He called both of your names, causing you two to turn flustered. You already knew what he was going to tell you. “Guys,” the director said, “You’re spending years just kissing each other like you live in a fucking Korean drama. Get back to the script, we don’t have all day.”

Eren blushed hard enough for his heartbeat to ring clamorously in his ears. He raised his hand to his face, hiding his bottom half behind the back of his hand as he tilted his head to the side. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he told you in a murmur, cheeks scarlet and burning. “I got… carried away.”

Usually, people would apologize for being ‘carried away’ after they folded your body in half or shoved their cocks too far down your throat. But Eren was apologizing to you for kissing you romantically as if it was some form of sin or something you despised.

When it was, truly, everything you ever wanted.

So you leaned down closer to his ear, making sure that your every word grazed his lobe when you whispered, “Kiss me like that again when no one is around. I want you to make me yours.”

Eren’s heart jerked violently inside his rib cages, his flush now spreading down to his chest.

“In three, two, one… Action!”

“You’re so cute,” you commented under your breath before you smashed your mouth against his, making sure to leave Zeke satisfied with the passion you showcased to the camera.

His thoughts were fogged, leaving him delirious until he felt you lowering yourself onto his length. “Ah, fuck,” he moaned, possibly for the first time that night, and he only had his tip inside you. He was quite vocal, it turned out, with his moans and little grunts sounding whinier than you had expected they would be. Your stomach churned and twisted when you realized how much effect you had on him. He wasn’t like this with Pieck before. You wondered if he was ever like this at all. Because now he seemed like he was a thousand times more sensitive, more honest, more expressive.

And God, did he look beautiful.

Sex was always just about money to you. It was never about pleasure, it was never about satisfying your partners in bed. You only ever orgasmed once in your three months of filming, and that was only because you had to finger yourself till you squirted all over your co-star’s face. You never reached your high when you got fucked, never felt like you were even close to bursting in ecstasy, as you were always too focused on getting your job done, on making yourself look pretty on the screen, on performing like you were getting the best sex of your life just to get more viewers and job offers.

But tonight… Tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to stop thinking that you had cameras filming you from every angle. You wanted to feel him and let him feel you until you both were flying on cloud nine until you were shaking as you climaxed hard on his cock, until he emptied himself inside you and left your cunt dripping his semen down your thighs when you climbed down the bed.

And you knew he could give it to you. If you had this much effect on him, his on yours was only ten times worse—or maybe better? You wanted him, needed him to give the best fuck of your life. And you wanted him to moan your name as he did it.

You were tight. Even after Porco stuffed his cock inside you, you were still so fucking tight. Your breasts bounced, hardened nipples almost grazed his face as you leaned forward to support yourself with both hands on the headboard. You rode him fast, the bed squeaking underneath you. Eren clamped his mouth eagerly around your bud, moaning around it as his large palms settled on your behind. Squeezing your ass cheeks firmly enough to leave purplish bruises by the morning, he urged you to rock your hips harder. “Oh, fuck, Eren,” you gasped out and you could feel him twitching inside you almost instantly. You never called out your partner’s name in bed and you weren’t sure if it was wise for you to do it, knowing it would make everything feel much more intimate. But Eren moaned in response, and he moaned so beautifully it made you want to do it again, crying out his name so wantonly until it drove you both to the edge.

“Goddamn,” he breathed out with his head thrown back, exposing the column of his throat which you quickly painted over with the shade of your lipstick. “Ah, you’re so—“ You slapped a hand against his mouth, startling him at first before he turned into a whimpering mess. You wanted to hear it, every bit of his praise that threatened to fall out his lips, but you couldn’t afford to ruin the scene again. You were a performer, and that was what you should be doing. You need to perform for the audience.

You didn’t have much time. You were only supposed to ride him for a few minutes before you traded positions with Pieck, as in the script, they were the ones who were paired as lovers. It was only natural for them to have more scenes together than he was with you. This only made you grow desperate. Made you turn possessive. Made you roll your hips harder as you sobbed out his name.

“S-so good,” you panted, watching the way his lips savored your nipple, tongue flicking obscenely against the puckered nub. “I want you deeper inside me, Ren.”

Ren. The word echoed so wonderfully in his ear that it felt like it was invented solely to douse him with joy. No one had ever called him like that before and it was supposed to feel weird, but Eren loved it better than his own name. He loved it even more as it was spoken only by your voice.

But it ignited the flame inside him and he snapped.

Fuck the script, he thought.

Instead of letting you climb off his lap to switch position with Pieck once more, Eren grabbed you by the waist and brought you down to the bed. He raised both of your legs in the air, pushing them forward until your body was split in half. He rammed himself deep as his fingers slipped between your strands, guiding your face upward to meet him in a frantic kiss. “Oh—God—” You choked out, the walls of your sex stretched wide to accommodate him and Eren shivered in the throes of pleasure.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” he promised, switching from pliant nipple to pliant nipple like a metronome, biting just hard enough to increase your frenzy as he drove his cock rapidly in and out. When he returned his lips to your ear, he added, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard you can only picture me when you do this with someone else.”

You could feel it, the way he unraveled the loops inside your stomach one by one, making you lose control of your body. “Fuck me from behind,” you begged him, knowing that it would only intensify your pleasure. “Please—I want it—”

A huge part of him wanted to be selfish and kept you in your place so he could commit every bit of your expression into memory as you reached your high, but he’d fucked up his scene once and he knew he wouldn’t be doing anyone a favor by repeating the same mistake.

With a suppressed growl, Eren flipped you over to your stomach, not letting you catch a breath before he propelled his cock inside you once again. You were pushed forward, your head almost knocking against the headboard with every thrust. Eren was vigorous, and his desire to claim you for himself made him dangerous.

Usually, at this part of the scene, you would be screaming, “Oh, yes! Right there, baby, fuck me just like that!” knowing your watchers would like it better when you were vocal, not caring if it was just an act. But right now you couldn’t. Every drive of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you incapable of doing anything else but having your lips parted in a silent moan. You gasped out his name, thighs quivering when you felt your orgasm building up fast. “Eren—” You blindly reached out one hand behind you to seize his wrist, “Ren, I’m—”

He suddenly leaned forward, filling the dip of your spine perfectly with his sculpted chest. He was panting hard, his hot breath fanning the sensitive spot below your ear. He whispered your name once, and then— “Du bist der schönste Engel, den ich je gesehen habe.”

You lost it, feeling like the world suddenly disappeared underneath your feet. Pleasure ripped through you in a way you felt all the way to your bones, leaving you with no strength. Eren wrapped an arm around your front, holding you still right before you toppled to the bed. His long fingers caught you by your jaws, angling your face to the side so he could place his mouth over yours to muffle his deep grunts. “I’m gonna cum,” he told you, his hips stuttering as he landed his forehead on your shoulder.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded in a whisper, “I want your lips on me. Please.”

He groaned, seduced by the yearning in your voice. Circling one arm around your waist and another one holding you tightly around your throat, Eren brought you up until you were standing on your knees. You had your spine glued to his chest, one arm winding around his neck for support. Your mouths collided as a turbulent wave of pleasure hit him like the storm. With one final thrust of his hips, he shot his seeds deep inside you, moaning heavily against your mouth, eyebrows sewed together as he embraced you close enough to suffocate you. You could feel him shuddering, his hips still moving slightly as he rode his orgasm.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, lips lingering on your shoulder. “That felt so—”

“And cut!”

“Oh my God, I’m actually gonna fucking kill him.” You could hear Eren grouse in a subdued tone, which stole a giggle out of your mouth. You both broke away as Zeke walked closer to the bed. You felt his essence trickling down your thigh, mixed with your own slick. Eren watched the way his cum coated your skin, gulping at the sight before his brother smacked his head with his script.

“Stop doing that!” Eren exclaimed, rubbing the pain away from his skull. The beast who was with you a moment ago suddenly converted back into a five-year-old boy, flinging his temper around.

“Follow the damn script, you dumbass,” Zeke said, slamming the script to his chest. He tossed his glare towards you, scolding you just the same.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized before he could utter a word, slightly bowing your head.

“Look, guys,” Zeke sighed, a bit wearily. “I’m all about sweet romance in real life, okay? Go ahead and ask my wife. She’ll tell you how good and romantic I am during our lovemaking sessions.”

Eren made a face at this point, sticking out his tongue in disgust while mumbling, “Eww, what the fuck,” under his breath.

With a flush creeping up his cheeks, Zeke fixed his glasses and continued with, “But we’re making porn, all right? People don't want to see romance. They want to see passion.”

“Was I not passionate enough?” Eren opposed.

“You shut the fuck up. I’m talking to the real pornstars here.”

The younger man rolled his eyes. "Fucking monke."

“I’m sorry,” you spoke on Eren’s behalf, though you found his little pout and protest to be adorable. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“It better be. Follow the script, okay? Appreciate your screenwriter. Oluo had his dick in one hand and a pen in the other when he wrote this. Don’t disappoint him. Also,” the director gestured his hand toward Pieck and Porco who were sitting awkwardly on the bed. “You kinda forgot these two existed,” Zeke finished before he strode away. “We’ll take a ten minute break. I need to cry in the bathroom for a sec.”

Pieck had an impish smile written on her lips, eager to tease you about whatever it was that happened between you and Eren before. Porco looked like he was ready to hang himself dead after what he just witnessed.

“Oh my God, guys, I’m so sorry,” you said with a wince, blood rushing fast to your face.

“I don’t know what the hell just happened,” Pieck said, about to break into giggles. “But damn, that was intense. I almost fingered myself while watching you guys. That was hot.”

Porco grimaced. “I feel like I just watched my parents have sex.”

“I’m sorry,” you and Eren both said in unison before your gazes met and you exchanged sheepish smiles.

Porco, noticing the tension, grabbed Pieck by her elbow. “Let’s get away from here before they start fucking each other again.”

As they climbed down the bed and made their way to their stylists, you could faintly hear Pieck ask, “Why do you never fuck me like that, Pokko?”

“Hey, I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that, you know that. I just thought you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be into it? I love romantic stuff.”

“Hard to figure that out when every time we’re about to have sex, you’re so eager to ram a plastic dick inside my ass.”

“Oh yeah, true, I like that one better.”

“What the hell are they talking about?” Eren asked with a frown and you laughed. He spun his head around to see your face contorted in joy, his own lips mirroring your smile, just as delicate and sweet.

“So, umm…” you began, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth again as you looked down, feeling somewhat diffident to stare at him in the eyes after what just happened. “That was fun.”

Seeing you act shy made him feel just as abashed but Eren took the lead by reaching out his hand, carding his fingers through your strands before he tucked your hair behind your ear to get a clear view of your face. “Did it feel good?” His gaze softened as he asked the question.

It warmed your heart. “It did. I’ve never felt that good before during filming.”

Eren’s stare drifted down to your lips. He pressed his thumb against the corner of your mouth, stopping you from chewing on your lip. “Don’t do that.”

“Huh?” You blinked before you understood what he meant. “Oh, sorry. It’s a habit of mine. I used to bite my lip until it got all swollen whenever I felt nervous.” You didn’t mean to reveal something personal about yourself, and it made you feel mortified. “It’s weird, huh?”

“No, it’s…” Eren glided the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, entranced by how soft they were, how sweet they tasted, how beautiful you were. “It’s hot.”

“It’s hot?”

“Yeah, uhh—” He retracted his hand, scratching his nape as he averted his gaze. “Whenever you did that, you looked so sexy, I couldn’t—I couldn’t think of anything else but—” He stopped himself.

“But what?”

He turned a bit jittery before he let out a harsh breath, and the next thing you knew, your mouths met again. He kissed you until his lips were numb, kissed you until he couldn’t think straight anymore, kissed you until you had the hardest time trying to open your eyes, too drowned in the sweetness of his kiss to step back into reality.

“But to do this,” he finished his sentence when he broke away, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes and breathed in your scent. “You are—”

“Excuse me.” Zeke popped up right beside you, startling you enough to have you jump out of your skins. Your director stared flatly at you both. “Do you guys need anything? A condom, probably? With the way you’re eye-fucking each other right now, you’re gonna get your eyeballs pregnant.”

“I’m—I need to fix my makeup.” You hastily jumped down the bed, your face sizzling hot.

Eren, while strangling Zeke with one arm, shouted before you could walk too far. “I meant it!”

You turned around just enough to catch his smile. “Meant what?”

“The words I said to you.” He tapped a finger to his ear, referring to the time he whispered his line to you in his native language. You were a mess, your face aflame as you quickly pivoted on your heels, marching away from the spot.

Du bist der schönste Engel, den ich je gesehen habe.

You're the prettiest angel I’ve ever seen.

***

Eren’s leg bounces up and down the floor, as he waits restlessly in the silence of the room they keep him locked in during your interview.

When you first arrived on the set, he could hear the sound of your heels clicking against the marbled floor, could feel the way his heart rate just escalated to the roof when your melodious voice echoed faintly through the hallway. He placed one ear against the door, catching the words, “Oh, I’m not allowed to see him until we’re filming the scene? Oh, gosh…”

“Yes. Why, is there a problem?” He could make out Hange’s voice.

“No, it’s just…” Your giggles sounded as pretty as they were nervous. “I’m so excited, my fingers are shaking.”

His flush crept up his face so fast, it left him woozy. Eren was this close at throwing himself on the bed and screaming his feelings into his pillow (until he realized that he wasn’t in his apartment and he shouldn't… act like a thirteen-year-old girl in public).

So I’m not the only one who feels this way, he pondered, sighing dreamily as he rested his skull against the door.

Your interview takes a while and Eren spends the entire time thinking about how to impress you at the first glance. Should he enter the room with his chin tilted up high? Girls dig cocky guys, right? Or should he greet you with a sexy “Hey, baby, you missed me?” Maybe even throw a wink?

Ugh, that sounds so gross, he groans to himself, actually giving himself chills. Groggier than ever, he starts to grind his teeth against his thumbnail. He knows that he should just be himself but being himself means he’s going to act like a fucking lovesick idiot that he is. But you found him cute like that, didn’t you? So should he do that? Keep acting like an idiot? That is not reassuring in the slightest.

And how would you behave around him? How would you look? Do you wear your hair down? Are you dressed in a cute pair of lingerie that makes you look like an innocent little princess like in that video you did with Armin? God, Eren would love that. Actually, you can literally be dressed in a stupid hot dog costume and he would still want to ravish you just the same.

But what if you’re already naked when he walks into the room?

The mental image of you… lying down on the bed… your smile inviting... maybe you'll bite the corner of your lip, turning docile at the sight of him staring at you…

“I’ve missed you, Ren…” he imagines you saying with your hand sliding down the sheets. “Come here and make love to me.”

Oh shit, he can already feel his blood rushing south. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—

“Mr. Jaeger?”

“Fuck me!” Eren screeches as he jumps to his feet, his heart rising in his throat. To say that he was startled would be an understatement. “Shit, man, you scared me.”

Moblit is just as surprised, if not more. Peeking his head through the door like a scared little deer, he says, “Uh.. I’ve knocked twice.”

“Right, sorry, I was just—” The brunette clears his throat, taking a deep breath and hoping that the male assistant wouldn’t notice the way his cock is already straining against his jeans. “Never mind. What’s up?”

“They just finished the interview, so, umm… Whenever you’re ready.”

“I can just go to her room now?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s waiting for me there?”

“Yeah.”

“Naked?” Eren can’t help but ask, but the second Moblit sends him a judging look, he quickly adds, “Just ignore me. Let’s go.”

He follows him to the hallway as Moblit explains the procedures. “Hange and I, along with two cameramen will be there in the room during filming but we’re going to give you a few minutes to greet each other before we start shooting. Of course, we’ve set up a few cameras in the room to record your conversation but we want to make it look as natural as possible, so we’ll give you some time alone.”

“Umm… Okay, cool.” Eren’s not sure if it would be better for his heart or not. Probably worse.

They meet Hange on the way to your room. She beams at him, reaching out her hands to fix his collar like how a mother would do. “Who’s ready to have mind-blowing sex?” She chirps, teasing him with a filthy grin.

“S-shut up.”

“You don’t have any reason to be nervous, you know,” she comforts him, patting his cheeks like a child. “She’s just as excited as you are. Just be yourself and show her a good time.”

Her assurance only adds more load to his chest. Hange notices the way he balls his fingers into fists, fixating his gaze to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before,” Eren mumbles timorously. “I’m probably nervous because I’m too excited about it but, like… Everything they told me about how great I am in bed just goes right out of the window right now, and I’m here thinking what if it’s all lies? What if I’m not as good as they say I am?”

“God, you’re so adorable, it's annoying.” Hange groans in the air before she slams both hands on his shoulders, squeezing them tight. “Eren, the first time you held her in bed, you gave her one of the best fucks of her life. Now, you don’t hear this from me, but—” She stood on her toes, whispering in his ear. “She touched herself while watching your videos.”

She did what?!

He can't believe it. His brain actually refuses to believe it. You, touching yourself while watching his videos? Just like he did every night to yours? That's insane. But eventually, the thought sinks in and the second it does, Eren’s jaw drops low on his face, his mind stops functioning. Well, it does help in reducing his anxiety, but now, all he can think about is the picture of you fucking yourself with your fingers, moaning, "Ah, Ren, please, I need you inside me,” preferably with tears coating your eyes.

If Hange squints her eyes enough, she could probably see the way his soul is leaving his body. "I see you're having fun with the mental images I'm giving you."

That slaps him out of his stupor. “She—did she really—she did?”

“Several times, yeah.” She pushes him toward the room, bidding her final farewell with a playful kick to the back of his knees. “So, go in there and have some fun. You both deserve it.”

Eren stops right before your room, facing a double door with his damp palms pressed against the side of his jeans. You got this, he chants in his head. You got this. Just be yourself. Just be an idiot like you usually are, it’s fine.

Taking another deep breath, Eren curls his fingers around one of the doorknobs and pushes his body forward—

Only to have his head knocked against the wood. Stepping back with his nose turning red and throbbing from the pain, a confused frown breaks on his temple. The door is locked.

“Why is it—” It rattles hard as he tries to unlock it, pushing his body forward against the door a few times before he hears your voice calling from inside the room.

“Try the other one,” you tell him, and Eren stiffens, pausing for two seconds before he moves his hand to the other knob. The door opens with a click.

Hange’s laughter rings from the end of the hallway, followed by, “Oh my God, he’s an idiot!”

Yeah, Eren thinks, maybe don’t be too much of an idiot.

***

Next Chapter

Hi, there! Thank you for reading the first chapter of the mini series I've been working on with Sandra from @smfics. I'm in charge of chapter 1 and 2, and she will take over and write the next two chapters. So if you guys haven't followed her blog, be sure to click that button 'cause we'll be posting chapter 3 and 4 over there! I hope you guys enjoyed it ❤️

Huge thanks to my best girl Lisa @imjustsomebodyelse for translating Eren's words for me LMAO I'm so sorry I had to bother you with this. I love you, baby ❤️❤️❤️ I hope you enjoyed the little pokopiku scene I threw in here hehe

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @the-princess-button @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza thank you for reading, lovelies ❤️

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years ago

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About boys trip, im thinking all of them😂 Ransom, Steve, Jake, Bucky, Sam, Ari, Curtis, and Frank, Beck, James, Carter, Blade, Chris, Owin, Beau, Joshu, like alll offf theeem. Ransom and his Qs to Curtis hut also him and his bestie Steve. Ransom bickering with Jake, frank opening up a littlel, beau and carter talking about tani man Ad Burd-dee, owin recalling to beck that he will always protect Aster and does not care beck is her moonman, joshua giving guys psychological speech, and Ari and Chris just being them😂 you know the famous Drysdale craziness

Oh this is going to be a HOT mess! So there will probably divergents of all these conversation or groups. So we have got Ransom, Beck, James, Blade, Carter, Chris, Steve, Joshua, Bucky, Sam, Jake, Ari, Curtis, Owin, Beau, Frank...this is going to be a BIG ass Air BnB they're staying in....

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Beebs and Butts

Summary: no good can come of this

Pairings: a lot

Rating: 😂

Warnings: language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.5K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

The Boys Are Back in Town Masterlist

“Whose idea was this?” Ransom asks as soon as he walks through the door. The caravan of the younger men hadn’t quite made it to the cabin, and Ransom is just confused. “No good can come of this. They will know.”

“Know what?” Steve asks looking around the large house. “What is there to know?”

“Gee, I don’t know Steven,” Ransom answers sarcastically. “Maybe that you and Bucky have shared his wife. Maybe that we have had a foursome with our wives. Do you remember how that shit got started?”

“You took some edibles and was drinking, you got horny and you mentioned how I was tied up and watched you and Kitten. And you wanted to see Steve’s face when he got to see her?” Jake pipes up, speaking rapidly.

While Bucky and Sam laugh Owin runs down the hallway with his dads. “You did WHAT with Mrs. D?”

“Make it stop. I haven’t had edibles or alcohol,” Ransom’s voice groans while Ari just nods his head at him.

“Nice. Thankfully Frank, Beau, and your son aren’t here,” Curtis responds. “I’m glad you,” counts on his fingers the amount of people involved in Ransom’s shenanigans. “Six? Yeah, the six of you worked things out. It’s good for you.”

“Nothing good can come of this. I’ve got four son-in-laws coming, all of which have children with my daughters. I know how men get when they’re drunk. I am that man.”

“Mr. D, at least they won’t be cumming…eh?” Owin tries to make a joke elbowing at Ransom’s arm.

“You realize that your sister’s husbands will be here, too?” Owin’s face falls flat. “And Beck, and Joshua.”

“What does my son have anything to do with anything?”

“Bucky,” Steve taps him on the shoulder. “Your son…Aster…” he gestures his hands around. “Like, he’s my son-in-law but how do you think he became an expert in couples and sex.”

“That is my daughter!”

“Well…they were friends. She wanted Owin and Joshua to be her Man of Honors,” he turns to glare at Owin who holds his hands up.

“Hey, uh uh, me and Az kissed. She vomited and said my pee pee would be too big and hurt her. And she didn’t want to see it. She has, but she had no desire to see it sexually. It’s different.”

“I’m going to bed. Wake me up when this is over.”

“Ransom Drysdale, you will enjoy yourself.”

“This is going to be hilarious.”

“This is going to be chaos. I agree with the man.”

“Tell me about yours and my wife’s relationship!”

“No!” “Ugh!” “Why does he always ask that?” “Curtis you need to just tell the man.” “Why does it matter?”

____________________________________________

“Why are you and Beau so close?” Joshua asks Beau. A few had went outside to sit around the bonfire. And he had spent a ton of time watching Beau and Blade. “Aren’t you and Harry like ride or dies?”

“Harry has two wives. He’s a busy man.”

“I am. I really am,” he gives Joshua a big smile, but he only cocks up an eyebrow.

“You didn’t answer the first question.”

“We’re not in a session,” Beau starts to speak but Blade just holds his hand in front of him, halting him immediately.

“Interesting,” Joshua’s hand rubs over his chin and he gives them a devious smile. “Do you always follow orders Beau?”

“What?�� Harry starts laughing and leans forward. “What is this? Did Blade find a way to be married and still be a whore?”

“Blade would you consider yourself to be a whore?”

“Would you, Joshie? You know, I did model my college years after you.”

“How so?”

Blade normally would never dare speak any of this. Blade normally is sober, and most people leave his bedroom life alone. “Well, I had a few best friends.”

“Don’t talk about my wives.”

“Two of them gave me a sexual awakening. Told me not to be pining after some girl who cheated on me. Taught me how to treat women in times of intense sex.”

“You’re talking about my wives!”

“Another, she couldn’t stay away. The only one beside my own wife to see my penthouse bedroom. Now this sweet little girl if I recall wanted to know everything about different types of sex. She had a crush on a psychiatrist that specialized in sex therapy, and she worried she wouldn’t be good enough for him.”

“You’ve moved on to his wife,” Harry groans, but he can’t believe the show. His eyes darting between him and Joshua, and even a few looks to Beau who just snickers.

“We taught each other so much. I respect the woman. She loves sex, and she wanted to show me. Taught her how to give the best blow jobs. How to ride dick.”

“Ehh,” Joshua shrugs. “Her blow job wasn’t great. I had to help her out a bit,” Blade’s face only falls. “I get it, you were young. I’m still lost on modeling the college years like me.”

“You had that one friend that you had the best sex ever, until you met your wife.”

“Man…Az, she needed me. She liked douche bags, and look what she got. The perfect moon man for her neurotic self.”

“Man,” Blade slaps his leg. “I can’t even try to be mad at you. You’re like Joshua fucking Barnes. I mean, you’re no James Rogers but girls fled to you! They wanted whatever you were dishing out. I wanted to impress James. I wanted to be you.”

“Yep, that’s creepy. Come by for a session, I can teach you some things about pleasuring your wife,” he goes to stand up, extending a hand to Blade, and his head flicks towards Beau, “His, too. Have a nice evening gentleman.”

“How the fuck did he know that?”

“You couldn’t keep a straight face,” Blade looks back at Joshua and then to Beau, “He just insulted me twice. I pleasure both our wives.”

“And I just lay there like a dead fish. Thanks.”

“Wow…this is amazing,” Harry nods his head. “I have…”

“Shut your mouth! I don’t want to hear anything about my sisters.”

“I’m waiting on Iris.”

“You’re never getting my wife!” James cackles from the porch. “That is property of James Carter Rogers.”

“It’s weird that him and Carter have the same name and they’re best friends,” Harry goes to lean back, nursing his beer more. “What’s up with that.”

“His egg donor is a narcissist, and her maiden name was Carter.”

“Oh…okay, that makes more sense.”

____________________________________________

Frank throws a horse shoe at the post, and reaches over to grab his beer. Jake can’t help but stand there and watch him. “Quit staring.”

“How come…I mean…I don’t even know.”

“I don’t like the crowds. I tend to keep to myself.”

“That’s not…you’re a good dad,” Frank turns and looks at him odd. “You love Iris still. Great with her kids. You created a life with a new woman, and you’re son has never got into trouble. How come you didn’t have more?” Frank only shrugs. “I didn’t enjoy splitting my time. One was enough. Plus Ye…she’s crazy. She needs my time.”

“Uh…Beau…and then I had Mary, and Iris came about every other weekend, and uh…yeah. But thanks…I think.”

“Frank! You and the puppy, let’s play some poker. Ransom and Steve had some edibles!” Ari looks outside to see his baby brother. Ari never tells him enough how proud he is of him. “Come on, this’ll be funny.”

_____________________________________________

“Don’t do it.”

“You don’t do it. Take your hand off that phone.”

“You first.”

“But I really want to,” Carter pouts at his best friend. The two had already got a good buzz, and his finger hovers over his wife’s name in his phone. “I always FaceTime her when I’m out of town.”

“How do you do it?” James looks at his phone, tapping on it to see a family photo of them.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Carter goes to stand but James pulls him down and both men start hysterically laughing.

“Where were you going?”

“The bathroom,” Carter starts giggling uncontrollably, “I gotta go.”

“Why?” James screams out. His hands pleading for an answer.

“I wanna see her titties.”

“That escalated.”

“You asked how I did it. Phone sex.”

“Ransom!” Chris screams. “Carter is trying to have phone sex with your baby.”

“Oh like you’re innocent. You’ve got pictures of Lucy’s genitals in your shop,” Carter and James high five each other and Chris is now the one laughing.

“That is pictures of my art.”

“Story’s pussy is my rose petals,” he smirks and pounds his head on the table. It takes a moment too long for James to catch it, and then he starts screaming laughing.

“That picture behind your desk! I thought it looked…”

“Familiar?”

“I’ve never seen her pussy. Her tits yes, but a kid is always sucking on it. She’s like my sister. But…that picture of the rose is Story’s pussy?” Carter nods, throwing his head back and laughing. “Behind your desk? Who painted it?”

Carter points at his chest and tries to calm down to tell him more but he struggles. “There’s one in the vault that has her fingers in it.”

“You win. I’ve got a tattoo shop. You’ve got a…her spread pussy you turned into a rose and just popped it behind your desk. Wow. Genius. Amazing. Beck! How do you deal?”

Beck just shrugs. “You mean you didn’t do anything on the space ship?”

“I had pictures.”

“I gotta go.”

“If you go, then I gotta go. And, no go,” James shakes his head at Carter, “We’re stronger than this.”

“You may be, but I’m not. I’ve never gone to sleep without her. I gotta go.”

“Pussy whipped!” James screams after him.

“Every last one of us are pussy whipped,” Joshua walks past slapping his hand on the table. “Alla us. Not one of us better. But I ain’t even mad. Your father-in-law is laid out on the pool table tripping. He’s talking to Curtis.”

“Yeah, I’m good. I gotta call Ris.”

____________________________________________

“Why won’t you tell me?” Ransom whines staring up at the ceiling. He twists his head over to look at Curtis who lays beside him on the pool table and the rest of the men just are dying laughing in the room. “I’m too old for this shit. The room is spinning. If I sit up I’m gonna vomit.”

“You throw up on me, I hit you.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“You changed it.”

“Were. You. Her. Dom?”

Curtis’ eyes clench closed and he starts laughing. “Why. Does. It. Matter?”

“Just blink if you were,” Ransom slings his head over with a groan, “I knew it! What did she call you?”

“You’ve been married for over forty years. Why do you need to know this?”

“Morbid curiosity. You were there for her when I couldn’t be, man. And that’s my woman. I’m her baby. And she pets me. I like her titties,” Curtis is now the one turning to look at Ransom with his eyes wide. “We have a good, safe, sexy as hell, sex life. Still jumping on the bed. Still making her cream herself. I’ve had her stuffed…”

“Ransom!” Steve yells. “Shut your mouth. That mouth gets you in trouble, and I don’t have a Kitten titty to put in it.”

“I do love her tits. Were you her Dom?”

“Oh. My. God!” Frank screams walking down the stairs. “I was going to bed, now there’s a bonding of Ransom and Curtis. Yes. He was her Dom. Geeze. Gotta listen to this shit for decades. Just fucking tell him.”

“I was her Dom. Ari help me up.”

“Wait…wait a damn minute,” Ransom sits up on the pool table and looks at the two men. His eyes blinking slowly, “Your husband is here. Ain’t none of us with our…Steven! TJ and Sammy are here together. Ari and Curtis get separated and so does TJ and Sammy if I have to be without Kitten everyone else is gonna be without their person. Carter and James just…poof.”

“They’re going to take a ragging from the rest of the young pack,” Steve sighs. “They’ve been FaceTiming their wives.”

“Curtis! Let’s go to bed buddy, I claim you, so we can talk,” Curtis groans, and pulls Ari in for a kiss. “That Little Princess will get pissed. Cut it out. Imma tell her you two wouldn’t quit touching.”

“No!” Both men shout. “She’ll cut our balls off.”

“Good.”

_______________________________________________

“Where the fuck is Harry?” Blade asks sitting up on the couch. He looks at the counter of all the alcohol and sighs. “Who gave him Hennessy? Dammit. I’ve gotta find his sorry ass. He can’t hold it. I know that’s what happened.”

“I need someone to snuggle with. Any takers? Someone who gets nice and cold?” Owin looks around the room and not one person volunteers. “Fuck you all. Sammy boy! Let’s go.”

“I didn’t volunteer.”

“Didn’t ask. Your mine tonight. You are not allowed with TJ. Maybe he should go with Carter and James,” TJ groans. “What?”

“Carter is making a special call to Story. As many times as I’ve seen her tits, I have no desire anymore.”

“I thought you were gay.”

“Yeah. So? Made out with her a few times. Showered with her. Pretended to be her boyfriend. You know gay bestie shit. So no need to see her perfect tits.”

“They are nice,” everyone turns and looks at Joshua. “What? Emy said if she gets implants she wants them to look like Story’s, she agrees. Damn, anyone can see she’s got great tits.”

“Has your dad said something about her tits?” TJ beams at Joshua. Settling down to look at him.

“I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Ree is gonna love this! Other than Carter, your dad…her crush.”

“Yeah,” Owin settles down beside Joshua, “nobody has better lips than Emy.”

“If you like big big tits…Lo. Geeze, I can see what attracted Blade to her.”

“Az has great legs.”

“And Iris’s ass. Man…there’s some hot women in this group. Eva’s arms. I’d let that bicep choke me.”

“Christopher! That is my sister.”

“Lucy’s talked about her need for that too. I just grab harder to her hips. And pound into her.”

“Lucy’s hips,” Sammy straightens up when Chris scowls at him “Bisexual. I’ve always…well you know.”

“You dreamed about fucking my wife? And you never did?

“She’s just a kid.”

“Pft…I’m older. I’m surprised that chihuahua didn’t catch on to that.”

“I touched her boobs though. She caught me staring. I just want to lay on them.”

“They are nice beebs.”

“Shut up!” Blade huffs walking back in with a passed out Harry. “Everyone to bed. No more beeb and butt talk. None.”

Masterlist

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gointothevvater · 3 years ago

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St. Cecilia's OC Interactions

-JD @vicekings: They first met after the SnB reunion concert, and he’s been a longtime fan of hers, and they hit it off pretty quickly. They have literally the sweetest relationship while also being just... Thirsty as fuck any time they're together. They're really good for each other, and there's even an AU where they have a kid together!

-Seonag @fishklok: There’s art of them sharing a kiss under the mistletoe, but I’m not quite sure of how their relationship would go, though I’d really like them to have one. I think they’d be a good match, considering St. Cecilia’s so bold and Seonag is so reserved! (Also a triad with the two of them and Magnus could be really, really fun, lol)

-Olive @thatwritingho: They've had at least one threesome (Possibly two, and possibly a foursome) together, and I can see them being really good friends once Olive gets over her initial shyness.

-Vektor @deth-of-a-king: He was assigned to be a guard for her for a while during her season four stay at Mordhaus, and despite their polar opposite personalities, they get along pretty well! They’re basically the embodiment of the “someone will die... of fun!” meme.

-Ro @needsmorezass: They shared a kiss under the mistletoe, but I think the’d be better as friends, probably drinking and lovingly talking shit about Pickles, lol.

-Miranda @kawaiibaphomet: They modeled for Dethklok’s Dethfashion line together, and I can see them being good friends!

-Nikki @frienderbender: St. Cecilia’s kind of a mentor/older sister figure to Nikki! They’ve done some modeling work together and they just have a really fun, funny dynamic!

-Nita @chordsykat: Nita likes St. Cecilia’s hair! That’s their only interaction! 😂 But I think they’d get along really well!

-Tamika @little-murmaider: As long as they can avoid the subject of Abigail (And subsequently, Magnus), they get along pretty well! Though I’m honestly not sure where they would have met at all!

-Bailee @dynamesvirtue: Bailee interviewed St. Cecilia in @dethkomic once! Ceelie’s a total gossip, I bet these two would have such a lot to talk about!

#i'd love for her to get to know lucy and bea and vanessa and arden and possum too!#metalocalypse #metalocalypse oc #mtl oc #pickles the drummer #magnus hammersmith #nathan explosion #skwisgaar skwigelf #st. cecilia jameson #my mtl

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daemoninwhiteround2 · 3 years ago

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Hello dear darling, I hope you are well <3 I was wondering if we could get Dick's POV from that omegaverse foursome where DickJay and TimKon are trapped by villains? The one where Jay & Kon are comforting each other and Dick and Tim were about to tear each other apart in a less fun way? If not, maybe some more of the Trapped Together AU, but only if you're up to it <3<3 <3 Take care of yourself

Ahhh, this nameless foursome fic that haunts my dreams, my sweet summer love

Kon knows approximately three things about Red Hood, and one of those things is that he's seriously tried to kill Tim on multiple occasions. Tim might have moved past it but Kon doesn't have the family pressure to get along so he doesn't have to forgive and forget. He can trust Red Hood exactly as much as Hood deserves, regardless of how nicely his thighs fill out his pants. Kon's fully aware that Red Hood probably has Kryptonite stashed away somewhere and could probably kick his ass without it, and so in the most respectful way possible, damn.

Ok, so, yeah, tagging along on Red Hood and Nightwing's stakeout isn't exactly Kon's idea of a good time, but if it means getting to spend time with Tim, Kon would do a lot more boring and stupid things. He's passed the childish stage of "peacocking but I don't know why so I'm going to call it getting territorial". He's accepted that Tim isn't into him--and Kon gets it. Tim's gorgeous, and so smart, and so strong.

Annnd tragically into blondes.

(Kon's actually thought about dying his hair. It's got that bad. Cassie sat on him while Bart patted his head and told him exactly how stupid he would look, which took a surprisingly long time considering Bart and subjective time. Turns out Bart had a LOT of stuff to get off his chest. It actually ended up being a really nice day even if Kon kind of maybe cried a little bit for a while.)

So, Kon's made his peace with being in love with his best friend. He's not going to be that asshole that wrecks a perfectly good thing, so he's just going to let his feelings run their course and be supportive about whatever stunning, clever blond Tim settles down with.

Doesn't make this any easier. Kon's good at repression--all superheroes are--but the way Tim looks when he's being Red Robin, swinging through Gotham totally confident, totally in control, a complete badass, lit by the flash of streetlights and neon ads...

If Kon was standing, his knees would go weak. As it is he feels a rush of empathy for Clark and his weird four-way UST with Batman, Lois, and (gag) Luthor.

Finally, something happens that draws Kon's attention. Gotham's got enough lead in its existing building material--no wonder everyone here is nuts--that his vision is really spotty, but there's something about one of the crates in the warehouse that keeps on itching at his brain. Sight is useless, hearing is useless, so he closes his eyes and hopes that the three actual detectives aren't looking at him as he takes what he hopes is a discreet inhale.

As an omega, Kon's really good at understanding and identifying different scents. As a Kryptonian--even just half a one--he can smell really, really well. And when he inhales...

Rooftop. Sun-baked concrete even now still retaining traces of the heat. Keep going.

Tim. The material of his suit, his sweat, the shampoo and conditioner he uses. He smells so good--fuck! Concentrate!

Nightwing and Red Hood. The same, mostly. Suit and sweat. Different products. Red Hood uses something sweeter, which is kind is a surprise, but ultimately useless.

Gotham. Bleh. Gross. Generic city smell--gas and concrete and piss. Useless.

Warehouse. Metal. Rust. Salt. Wood.

And that crate... Fuel. Distinctive fuel.

His eyes snap open. "There's Intergang weapons in those crates--I can smell the fuel they use."

They'd found a stash of these weapons a couple of months back: cannibalized alien tech that could shoot a beam of energy that broke down the bonds between atoms. The explosions were horrific. And bloody.

Nightwing calls them over. There's no way they're letting these weapons fall into the hands of some Gotham gang.

It's a trap. Of fucking course it's a trap. Kon floats, half worried that they're going to electrify the floor or something. He can probably break out of here - he doesn't see any Kryptonite - but he'd rather not be juggling three unconscious bodies when he does. Bats many be human but they're dense with muscle.

There's a hiss as some gas is released into his and Hood's tank and Kon swears when he turns to see that Hood's stupid helmet has been cracked so whatever fear Joker pollen gas bullshit is flooding the place is definitely going to affect him and

And it's not fair! Tim is stunning, and Kon's absolute favourite combination of "can kick my ass" and "smart but a dumbass but smart". He's so amazing and Red Hood could have ended that before Kon had grown up enough to pull his head out of his ass to realise what he'd lose!

He drops to his feet, stalks forward and pulls Red Hood close. He's not sure what he's going to do, tell at him maybe? But when he pulls Hood in close he gets a proper whiff of him and.

And he smells so good.

Like, like something warm and thick and juicy and good and Kon wants it in his mouth and coating his throat and sliding down into his belly to warm him from the inside out.

So he kisses Hood, slow and steady, curls his hands in Hood hair and his legs around Hood's waist until Hood gets with the program and growls and starts kissing back. He grabs Kon's ass, really digs into the muscle, and Kon purrs at the squeeze. Hood laughs into their kiss and hauls Kon closer, until Kon's core presses up against the cup of Hood's armour.

Sensation zings through Kon, bright and electric, and he's so wet already. He wraps himself tighter around Hood--gravity means shit when you can fly--and grinds right where he's all achy and so, so empty up against Hood's cup.

Their kiss turns wet, filthy, and it's so good but it's not enough. Kon wants a cock in his throat but he wants a cock in his pussy and a cock in his ass because he's so empty and Hood smells so nice and maybe he'll finger Kon while he facefucks Kon but it won't be enough. Kon wants them in his bed--no, in his den, in his nest, him and

And Tim.

Hood breaks off to bite down Kon's neck and Kon shudders, reaches out with his hands and explores the solid, perfect lines of Hood's shoulders. But that's not enough, but he's not willing to pull away from that almost-good-enough pressure, so he reaches out with his TTK and slides three mental fingers deep into his pussy as he sends several more sliding over Hood's body.

"What?" Hood gasps.

"What?" Kon gasps, when he discovers wet, plush folds instead of the balls he was expecting to play with. "Oh, ok, we can share then!"

They'll share Tim and whoever's not tied can get fisted. Or, Kon's got a heap of knotting toys, ones big enough to stretch his pussy out and leave it all pretty and gaping after, Hood will look so lovely with one of those in him.

Tim's going to knot both of them so much he's going to make all their holes go slack and useless and creamy with come. They'll be too fucked out for any other alpha.

Kon leans back far enough so he can get his hands on Hood's chest, which is just as thick and delicious as his back muscles. He's going to be so tasty when his milk comes in. Tim and Kon can help, they can put a toy so big in Hood's pussy that he won't be able to close his legs to get up and then they can play with his tits, suck on his nipples until they're all nice and puffy and red.

There's a dull thud, and then their cage shakes enough that Hood staggers. Kon stabilises them with his TTK but looks up from measuring Hood's chest with his hands--they could probably get him in a bra, right? He'd be so pretty in a cage bra.

Tim slams into the glass--huh, there's a bit of blood there. Is Tim ok?--and it fractures but stays whole. Kon locks eyes with Tim and he's kind of ... Tim looks weird.

But weird in a good way. Kon's legs squirm against Hood's back. He wants to find out more about this weirdness.

Hood slides a hand between Kon's thighs and rubs up in the perfect place. Even though his tights, it's enough to have Kon's eyelids fluttering as his eyes roll back.

Tim snarls and Kon whimpers as he gushes slick so much that it leaks through his uniform and gets on Hood's hand.

Hood chuckles. "Slut," he says affectionately.

Kon shudders and clenches his thighs, as though that'll help.

Tim's eyes widen and he darts to the side just in time to avoid getting hit by Nightwing. Nightwing isn't fast enough to pull the blow and smashes into the fractured glass wall.

It comes shattering down and Kon is flooded with alpha.

He and Hood whimper.

Tim and Nightwing snarl and pounce.

#dae writes #jaykon #jaydick #timkon #whooo she's a big'un #dc #batman #Superman #yj #omegaverse #Dick Grayson #alpha Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #omega Jason Todd #Tim Drake #alpha Tim Drake #Conner Kent #omega Conner Kent

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hollyhomburg · 4 years ago

Text

Reasons Wretched And Divine (Pt. 8)

(Yoon Min Joon x Reader) (Hybrid au) (Mafia au)

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers in hidden lies and dead bodies. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks. The clock ticks closer- every second he has with you bringing him closer to zero.

Tags: pregnant! Reader, Dead bodies, hybrid on hybrid violence, referenced police mistreatment/indifference, mentions of emotional/physical abuse, referenced drug use/overdosing, Angst, touch starved characters, violence, explicit sexual content, foursome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, Breeding kink, knotting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, unrealistic amounts of cum, cumplay, marking kink, Dom/sub undertones, Dom! Namjoon- Sub! everyone else, Cum control, Overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)

W/c: 20.3k~

A/n: get ready for some nasty af smut~ But also be mindful of the angsty tags. You guys are gonna hate me for the cliffhanger!

Series Masterlist

One month after your husband's death

- Yoongi had learned when and where not to provoke his owner over the years. Yoongi hadn’t been born with the ability to hold his tongue, His biting proclivities earning him more than a few broken ribs and bloody noses in his lifetime. But no matter, his owner had trained his tongue out of him, had even threatened to cut it out on occasion.

- And yet, his personality couldn’t be measured in the same way, a simple eye roll or a huff or sigh was enough to land him in trouble. Which is why he’s in the position he’s in now; Bloody lip, another bruise likely forming under his eye and on his ribs. His head spinning from what is likely another concussion. How many could a person get before they had brain damage? Whatever the number- Yoongi was probably toeing the line or already over it.

- He’s trying to avoid more damage, which is why he sits outside of the living room of their double-wide trailer. His owner has a nicer house somewhere- but this is the place that’s always functioned as the stomping grounds for all of her illegal business. And It’s the only building that Yoongi’s ever been able to call home.

- The yellowing walls that have turned greasy with cigarette smoke over the years, as well as the thin blanket and the pillow that he uses on the couch when no ones hanging around. If they are and the house is filled with gangsters- Yoongi’s usually doomed to the floor or until they leave for the night. Only able to sleep without his back to the wall when the gangsters stop their drugging (usually methamphetamines) and intoxication (most often moonshine)

- More than one person’s overdosed on the couch that Yoongi calls his bed. He tries not to think about it when he goes to sleep. What did it matter if someone else had died here- at least Yoongi was still alive.

- Even breathes stick in Yoongi’s lungs like honey, something dammed and impure. It’s a testament to his nerves (or years of learned abuse) that he doesn’t flinch when the crashes and bangs increase from the other room. It’s just glass breaking- now gunfire- that would have Yoongi ducking and running for cover.

- Revelry like he’s used to surviving through hasn’t existed in recent months, not since the business, or lack thereof had started to seep into every moment like a slow-moving poison. Gang wars are messy and they take years to play out. But it hadn’t been until four weeks ago that his owner’s gang had suffered its first casualty. A gang couldn’t exist without its plug, and now there was a power vacuum in the underworld. And whoever controlled the supply would be the most in-demand.

- “I’ve had enough of your bullshit excuses! If you don’t find the shipment this instant I’m going to start blowing brains like bubbles” his owner screeches. A tumble and shatter sounds from the other room, probably the plate of food Yoongi took in before. Cooking was one of his only valuable skills according to his owner, and he’s spent at least a quarter of his life avoiding a beating by becoming a better cook.

- The threat doesn't bother him. Yoongi barely lets himself think about the business of the gang, the bloodstains and bodies that they’ve most definitely left in their wake. He tries not to let it bother him knowing that there will probably be more in the next few months. His only concern is making sure his body isn’t one of them.

- Yoongi doesn’t care about anything other than keeping himself alive. And even that just barely.

- He listens from outside the door, her screaming finally quieting. This isn’t the first meltdown of her’s he’s witnessed this week. He hears the rustling of papers, silence from her as whoever's on the other side of the phone speaks. “Yeah I have it, fuck- his bitch must really be moving if she already has this in the goddamn paper.” She pauses, and Yoongi hears one of the gangsters stoop to try and clean up the mess that she’s surely made, “If that’s true, I think I know the perfect person for the job- if you can even call it that.”

- It helps that Yoongi’s not expected to speak. Sometimes, when there’s a loud enough noise, or when he sneaks out to walk the sum mile to the beach, Yoongi speaks. Just a sentence or two at a time, his voice gruff and sore after a few words. Just to make sure that he can still do it and hasn’t forgotten how. That his voice still exists hidden somewhere in his chest and his throat. Locked away like a delicate yolk- only able to be seen if you break the eggshell outside.

- “Yoongi!” his owner shrieks, and he has the good sense to hasten to a place where she can see him. He stands in the doorway and doesn’t meet her eyes. There are a few assorted gangsters here. His owner looks unhinged, her flyaway hairs sticking in front of her face, wiping away smudged lipstick and a fair amount of saliva that had dripped down her chin from all her screaming.

- “I have a job for you” She tosses a newspaper at him, and Yoongi catches it easily. Careful not to step into the mess of glass that would surely cut his feet. A drawn red circle cuts through an article on a local high school to highlight something in the purchased ads. Just a little map with a heading “hybrid sanctuary: a safe place, three meals a day. If you or anyone you know has witnessed hybrid abuse, please call this number for help.”

- Yoongi looks up, giving her a short nod. Yoongi will do whatever she needs in order to survive. Anything to keep the blood in his veins and his heart beating.

- He listens patiently while she explains the plan.

---------- Now---------

- The clock ticks, and You don’t find the body until noon. By then there are flies buzzing around him. Blood already dried on those fingertips and underneath His fingernails- the sun warming his body like the hybrid could still be alive.

- You’re just retiring from a day working in the garden (usual and ordinary) when one of the bear hybrids thunders through your door- his eyes wide, shouting for you (strange and surprising). Yoongi is the only one with you; Jimin’s just set off down the hill to change. Namjoon’s not in the house either; helping Jin with more fencing for the animals.

- Your grim expression is mirrored in the terse face of the teenage hybrid that had been going for a walk when he’d found him. You’d started down the hill at a run At least until Yoongi had stopped you. Eyeing your stomach with a worried expression. It’s not that you can’t run or that he doesn’t think you should it’s that the hilly path down to the front entrance is littered with potholes.

- It’s not your first time seeing a dead body (that honor is owed to your late husband) but the unnatural way a body lies still is always incredibly unnerving. You lean over the body nausea rolls in your belly worse than it ever did in the first few months you were battling your morning sickness. But you know you can’t vomit over a crime scene.

- You recognize the body, It’s one of your hybrids; a coyote hybrid that came to you after the second month you were open, and had come and gone quite a bit since then. You need to look at your ledger to know for sure if he was in-between stay or if he’d been here prior to today.

- You tend to be a little laxer with the hybrids that aren’t permanent residents of the farm. You barely even learn the names of the deer hybrids that come for a dinner or two here and there before they go. You’re used to the nomads and this hybrid was one of them. You’re kicking yourself for that now. Because if you have a killer in your mix- a shiver goes down your spine at the thought of any of them being in danger. You need to get all of your hybrids in one place to make sure they’re safe. Right now.

- You turn to yoongi and the teenager; a bear hybrid from Tae's group- Beomgyu. You recall the little details you know about him- how he likes to hang around with Yeonjun and the other cats in the kitchen sometimes. He’s so young, eyes wide, shaking his head making his curved ears flop when he finally tears his eyes away from the body and looks at your face.

- You make your voice more soothing, “Ring the lunch bell- get everyone by the main barns okay? We need to make sure everyone is accounted for” the bear hybrid turns to run up the hill but you catch his arm. “The barns have to direct a line of sight to here- so keep the children in the far-field, after you ring the bell- get Namjoon and Taehyung and tell them to come here before you tell anyone what's happened.” The last thing you need is a group stumbling around here and contaminating a crime scene.

- He leaves with a thunder of footsteps in the dry grass, “Yoongi” you say, “Would you mind going up to the main house to get the logbook and my cellphone?” Yoongi looks like he doesn’t want to leave eyeing the road with a suspicious glare. Making a noise in his throat and staying put. “Yoongi” your voice is strangled- like you’re trying not to cry. “He’s been dead for hours, any danger here has passed, I’m safe- I promise.” but Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your hand and then thinks better of it.

- At the sound of heavy footsteps you both look back up the hill- Namjoon racing in your direction, his ears pinned to his head with Taehyung not far behind. He gives you one final glance and nods before he takes off up the hill. Namjoon stops when they pass, calling his name but Yoongi doesn’t stop. “let him go Namjoon” you call behind.

- The bell that they use to call people in at mealtimes tolls out across the field.

- Yoongi watches as the kits raise their heads from their playing in the field. A look at the sun telling them that it’s too early to be called in for dinner, lunch just finished. The confusion that gives way to panic as he travels through a crowd of older hybrids. He almost runs into one of the cat hybrids as she leaves the kitchen. Shouting back to her friend that’s fussing with something. “Just turn off the stove- something’s wrong we need to go.”

- Yoongi snatches the book from your small office off the living room and thunders back down the porch steps, pausing when he sees it. Anyone else might not have noticed the difference- or noticed it at all. But Yoongi used to survive by noticing the small day-to-day differences in his world; and it’s a habit that hasn’t died even though Yoongi no longer needs it to survive.

- There is a piece of paper stuck behind your windshield wipers on your car. Not a ticket and not a note- but a business card. And Yoongi knows it wasn’t there yesterday.

- Yoongi pauses, your phone in one hand, and the logbook in another. He shoves your phone in his pocket and wastes precious seconds to retrieve it. It’s simple- just plain cardstock a single sentence on the other side. “You’re welcome” there isn’t any signature beside a small doodled bunny rabbit.

- Yoongi knows that signature. Memories dredge up from the bottom of his mind like a swell of cold water washing over him. He’d seen his old owner- (his current owner- his own internal monologue berates him) go into a rage after seeing that same moniker spray-painted across her truck or buildings on more than one occasion.

- Yoongi rolls his tongue over his teeth, putting it together. His owner’s words- dimly alluding to a second mole at the farm- warning Yoongi to be careful. And now this- a thank you card from a rival gang. Chaos whirls around him as different groups run to the barns. He hears Taehyung’s raised voice “Everyone quiet! I need you to listen to me- please!”

- Other hushed words echo from the field as Yoongi puts it together. In a moment, Yoongi knows what’s happened- but he can’t for the life of him understand the motivation.

- What motivation could his owner’s rival have to kill their mole? And if he knew who at the farm was connected to the gang life- why didn’t he kill Yoongi last night too? This body and this note raise too many questions.

- Yoongi doesn’t think it through, just shoves the card into the bottom of his work boot, hiding it so that it lies flat under his sock. Knowing it's better to hide it then hand it over to the police. Yoongi’s hands shake with the very idea of you being caught up in this mess. Although it looks like it's already too late for that. How much less involved can you be with a dead body on your front doorstep?

- If the note is addressed to you? How much do you know about your late husband's business- if anything?

- You attribute Yoongi’s shakiness to the dead body you’re deceptively calm- nausea set aside when he gets back. yoongi nearly runs into taehyung on the way down the hill. Anger an annoyance and worry rolling off the bear hybrid in heady waves. “Don’t worry- Jimin and I have nearly everyone in the barns already, and Daehyun and Hoseok are taking care of the cubs on the other side of the field”

- Taehyung barely looks at Yoongi as he passes, shouting at you over his shoulder. It helps to hear that Jimin is all right, but Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll believe it until he sees the other hybrid with his own two eyes. Namjoon looks much the same. Though he holds your hand tight as he can.

- You call the police the second Yoongi hands over your phone. And together- you wait for them. Namjoon sends an anxious glance both of your ways. It doesn’t take long before you can hear the sirens heading in your direction, echoing out over the empty hills.

- Back up at the barns, Jimin sits on the second floor, the windows are opened to their full capacity to let in a nonexistent breeze. The top floor of the barn isn’t really the most comfortable place to be in the middle of the day, the heat muggy, and all-encompassing. But every dog hybrid is in their bunk room. but it’s too hot to be comfortable regardless of the fans running at full power. Jimin sits on the floor dangling his feet over the side.

- Below- Jimin watches Taehyung as he does a headcount. Clipboard in hand, shouting names and waiting for people to respond. the hybrids have separated themselves by type, bunny hybrids on the outer edge, bear hybrids close to the center around Tae, Cat hybrids on the ground floor to stay out of the sun. Jimin and dog hybrids- the most easily riled up and hardest to contain because of their energy- on the top floor where they’d all stay put and not sneak off.

- Jimin’s room has already been counted, there isn’t much left to do but wait and watch. If he looks over the hillock he can see the police cars and you. The flashing blue and red lights and a small group.

- A small crowd has gathered to watch and linger, police tape set up to the entrance of your farm. A few of your neighbors gathered too at the sound and small-town gossip is sure to follow. Your two closest neighbors- an elderly couple come over to ask you a few questions about all the commotion. They’ve never been unpleasant to you or hostile, still happy that you took their farm animals off their hands many months ago. But they remain firmly separated from your hybrids on either side of a circle of crime scene tape.

- When Jimin looks to the other side, he can see Hoseok and another dog hybrid with the children. Sequestered them with a bunch of games and ice pops on the other side of the hill, away from any and all possibility of them seeing something they shouldn’t.

- Even some of your hybrids linger around the crime scene. the leaders of various groups that need to see for themselves. Beomgyu is here too as well- even though you gave him a look that said you dont need to see this. As it is, you give the teenagers that refuse to go a questioning cross look. Yeonjun in particular just shrugs at you when you give him an expectant look. All of the teenaged hybrids are particularly used to your no-nonsense looks. It doesn’t help that he’s several inches taller than you.

- “You really think this is the first time I’ve seen a dead body?” one of the other cat hybrids has the good sense to cuff him over the back of his head for that one. You know he’s young, but some respect for life and death is something he’ll have to learn at one point or another. If he wants to stay that bad- you’ll let him.

- Namjoon might hate the police, but he does speak their language, and it’s easy for you to sink to his side and rely on him to take over the story as you relate everything you know (which isn’t much). The pack leaders- or what would be the pack leaders all waiting on the fringes. Taehyung comes back to tell you that there isn’t anyone but a few bunny hybrids missing- quickly sniffed out by one of the dog hybrids, all of them looking a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed from whatever they were doing.

- That gets a few laughs out of everyone that’s gathered- Taehyung shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but tempers still remain raised. From the top story of the barn, Jimin watches it unfold. Taehyung shoots him a tired look.

- A quick look at your ledger shows that the last time the hybrid left was just a little over a week ago. Your fingers hover over the date. The book is photographed by the crime scene photographers too, the camera bulbs flashing, a few of your more sensitive hybrids have to turn away- the bright flash too glaring. The officers take little notice of their discomfort.

- They tell you that they might come back to collect it for official evidence. It’s nice to have something to give the police to show them that the hybrid wasn’t in your care when he died. You have a good reputation with them because of your ex-husband as much as you hate to admit it. And it’s jarring to hear you referred to as his widow, especially with Namjoon standing so close, a protective presence between you and the police.

- A few months ago you might have started breaking down when you heard his name, but all you have to do is look at Namjoon to know that you’re okay, you’re both safe.

- Well maybe not now- if you have a killer in your midst then you’re all certainly not as safe as you thought.

- For all the feaux concern they have about the dead hybrid- the ones around you might as well be window dressing. They would have ignored Namjoon entirely if he hadn’t introduced himself as an ex-police hybrid.

- It’s more than that, their unconcern sinks under your skin and makes you want to shout at them as they take his body away in a black body bag. They promise you they’ll try to find whatever killed him. They don’t look too bothered- another dead hybrid isn’t anything new or a cause for panic to them, about as regular as finding any other pet- and not a fucking human being- dead or murdered.

- The police tell you they’ll do what they can- but a dead hybrid is hardly their priority, even if it makes a growl build in Namjoon’s throat when they brush off your concern. Your blood boils.

- But as the sequestering drags on and on into the afternoon- and the temperature increases with every moment everyone still has to stay put. the idle chatter quickly turns agitated. In the main barn- A few of them have been playing cards on and off, most of them in states of undress because of the heat. Jimin is the only man still wearing his shirt, though it’s only his tank top.

- “What the fuck do you think it is? Who do you think killed them?” Jimin listens in on the other hybrid's conversation against his own violation. He’s never been close to the other dog hybrids at the farm save for Namjoon, and he’s not about to start right now. They laugh, but it sounds more like a bark- or a hyena chuckle, “you know me- if there’s an issue my money's always on the snake,”

- Jimin’s head whips around, “Excuse me?” the hybrids turn to him, “oh Jimin- we forgot we were here” if they want that insult to sting- they’re going to have to try a little harder. Jimin was used to being forgotten for the first half of his life, and that won’t start hurting now.

- Sweat drips down the back of Jimin’s neck, “he has a name you know,” he says with no real venom. it’s greeted with resounding scoffs from a few of his bunkmates. He lets the silence sit for a moment before the weight of it grows too oppressive for him to handle, “What?” he says feeling like he’s missing something. The rest of the hybrids in the bunk room fall quiet.

- The dog hybrid- Taeyong- Jimin’s brain reminds him, snickers. “Nothing- just- figures you’d be possessive of him after yesterday.” A flush of heat hits Jimin’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Someone must have seen Yoongi leave the showers and then seen Jimin leave a short minute later looking sex dazed. He knows the meeting had left his scent all smelling like honey arousal. They must have put two and two together.

- Damn those bunny hybrids with their sensitive noses. Now that Jimin thinks about it- Taeyong is a friend of one of them- a small little rabbit called Jihan.

- Jimin shrugs it off because fuck them- he is protective of Yoongi and this conversation only shows the reason for that. But they don’t leave it at that- not at all. Taeyong taps his foot against the floor, grinning and showing the edge of a sharp incisor “Being with him will only end you in an early grave you know, but you might as well keep your head down and enjoy your one-way ticket to living up at the big house.”

- “That’s not why I’m- we’re not-“ he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t say that he’s with Yoongi- not officially, not yet. And though there is something with them. Jimin doesn’t know how to put a name to it. let alone how to put a name to what he has with all of you.

- There must be something written on his face, because the hybrid sits back, satisfied that he’s hit Jimin with something that can stick. The other hybrids snicker. A fair few turn away- sensing the fight that’s about to develop, content to stay out of it.

- “You know he doesn’t deserve to be up at the big house right,” Jimin can’t stop himself from getting angry at the calloused way they talk about Yoongi. His temper rising with the heat, Jimin has never been good at holding his tongue, and maybe it’s his fault that things happen the way they do. Jimin rises, and so does Taeyong, Suddenly chest to chest, “well if he doesn’t deserve it- you certainly don’t, maybe if you guys were just kind for once in your life you’d be staying up there too.” Jimin barks.

- A few other hybrids blanch, and more turn away, Jimin’s misspoke- can judge by the silence that he’s the one being judged. “And I actually happen to enjoy their company- I’m not-”

- Jimin knows what he’s just insinuated, that being loved is just a correlation of being kind and pleasant to be around. (You’ve been talking through that particular thing with him. The fawn response to abuse. And Jimin knows he should unpack that later, but like many other things- it just slips out. His post-traumatic stress disorder makes him think things he knows are wrong. He doesn’t believe the words he says, not really.)

- Taeyong steps forwards, and Jimin shrinks back sudden bravery forgotten. “You’re not what? Being a manipulative little puppy? Batting your eyes at them so that you could get a spot? Go tell that lie to someone who believes you. You might be a puppy, but you’re a snake to your core.”

- Jimin has never wanted Taehyung to be there more than now. Where is he when he needs him? Jimin looks back through the open window, but Taehyung isn’t below them on the patio. Their fight seems to have gotten more than a little attention. Wide eyes upturned, startled by the sound of raised voices. It's the wrong moment to look away because suddenly Jimin’s reeling from a shove, two hands on either shoulder.

- Jimin catches himself on the window frame. The open space taunting and frightening. All at once, the image hits him; another well-placed shove- Jimin falling- cracking against the slate patio outside where you usually set up dinner, the ground hard and unforgiving. Bones breaking.

- Jimin isn’t sure why he says it; “No wonder why you haven’t got adopted if this is how you act when someone disagrees with you.”

- Jimin’s never fallen from any height before. But he’s been tossed and pushed and shoved, and never learned how to fight back. He freezes now at the memory of it. He’s been shoved into concrete before, and he bets slate hurts just as much.

- “Don’t pretend like you haven’t had your eyes set on the big house since you first got here puppy, little thing like you probably just wants to be owned- how do you even have an ounce of self-“

- Jimin gets shoved again, and he barely manages to hold his ground. Taeyong grips his shirt in both his fists, lifting Jimin up so that he struggles to keep his feet on the ground.

- From below, he hears a shriek, His name shouted from your mouth. You run as fast as you can, Yoongi stayed behind to help you. His face turned up imploring at Jimin. Jimin hears the thud of Namjoon’s feet on the wooden floor below. He and Taehyung, as they take the stairs two at a time. Jimin doesn’t know how they knew to come, or how suddenly everything’s escalated.

- The other hybrid steps forward, and there is nowhere left for him to go, Jimin grips the window frame, and tries not to let go.

- Namjoon’s words can barely be made out around the growl, suddenly in the doorway. Jimin keeps his eyes on the hybrid in front of him. Not at Namjoon’s face, screwed tight with anger. “Enough, step away from him.”

- Namjoon looks more threatening than Jimin’s ever seen him, teeth bared, ready to attack. His curved ears quivering as Namjoon seems to swell in the doorway, his eyes shiny and reflective in the half-light. An alpha ready to protect his own. The scars that crisscross his face a reminder of the lengths he’s willing to go to protect his family.

- A sheepish looking Taehyung toes the line behind him, “I’m sorry- I heard the beginning outside the door and went to get them” Jimin is at once thankful for Taehyung and a little angry- because really? He couldn’t be bothered to just intervene then? Taeyong seems to think for a moment before he lets Jimin go. Jimin sees Namjoon’s hands tighten into fists by his side. The threat of what he might have tried to do dissipating. You rush forward with Yoongi, pulling Jimin out of the doorway.

- More than one hybrid in the room jerks when you get too close to the window. They can’t help it- for many of them, you’re the only human they’ve had a positive relationship with. And the dog hybrids are nothing if not a loyal bunch. Which is probably why Taeyong shrinks back, nostrils flared- still angry and feeling threatened. like a cornered animal.

- Jimin tries not to run back to Namjoon’s side- but it's hard, especially when he makes eye contact with Yoongi. Your chest heaving blinking away tears as You pull Jimin to you easily, a hand on his cheek. Eyes so worried, searching his face and his frame for even a hint of damage. The words are out of his mouth before he even has a chance “I’m okay- it’s okay- I’m fine.”

- “It wasn’t my fault, Jimin started it” you look up, and Jimin can tell from the tilt of your eyes that you don’t believe them for a second, your voice is shaky when you speak, so quiet. and jimin wonders- how many other times you’d spoken up like this in your past against your ex-husband and gotten hurt for it. It takes no small amount of bravery for you to speak now and Jimin’s arms tighten protectively around you.

- “This isn’t- this isn’t how you treat another person Taeyong even if he did start it- you don’t react with violence.” one of the other hybrids shakes his head at Taeyong- but he doesn't react well to your words. Bearing his teeth at you and it takes every ounce of self-control for your three hybrids not to jump in front of you at such an obvious display of aggression.

- “He shoved me first” Taeyong lies, and Namjoon answers it with a growl. stepping up to go chest to chest with him in much the same way that Jimin had just minutes before. The other dog hybrid crumbles against the alphas stare. “Would you like to repeat that? or do you maybe want to tell the truth this time?”

- You pull Jimin behind you and Namjoon steps between you and the other hybrids, looming and large in the small space. “If I hear that you're causing any more trouble you’ll be out on your ass faster than you can say “it wasn’t my fault” Namjoon barks, turns, both you and he have a hand on Jimin’s trembling shoulders. When did they start shaking?

- A sudden hush has settled over the hybrids, everyone is here to witness it. And it doesn’t make sense until they hear a set of quiet footsteps at the door. “Is everything alright miss?” the police officer says in the doorway, suspiciously eyeing the hybrids. His hand hovering dangerously close to the gun in his holster. The fucking police- Jimin had almost forgotten they were here.

- You don’t look shaken, stepping back to be between him and your hybrids, and the police officers' shoulders relax. You’re so disarming- Jimin barely sees you shake even though he can smell the distress rolling off of you in waves. Turning your usual scent all muddy. Your smile is strained, “No officer- everyone’s just a little bit high strung right now I think. We’re fine.”

- “Sorry for that distraction, we can continue up to the main house if you’d like. After you.” You set back off down the steps and Jimin knows what you’re doing- keeping the police officer away from them because you know how twitchy the cops make most of the hybrids. “No thank you- I dont think that will be necessary. As your k-9 unit specified earlier in his interview the crime scene is mostly contained in the driveway. I think we’ve seen enough.”

- Jimin can’t help but stumble to Namjoon’s side, pressed tight under the arm of his alpha. Namjoon’s disarmed by Jimin's sudden need for affection; for his alpha all around him. “We’ll talk about this later” Taehyung glowers at the other hybrids and they all fall silent. Namjoon’s ire- they might be a little more used to but Taehyung’s anger is used a little more sparingly. The four of them, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung the unlikely fourth turn to leave.

- You’re already in the lower level of the barn when Taeyong speaks, his voice low to keep it out of earshot from you. “Sure thing pet,” Taeyong says under his breath- though really what was he trying to do? Everyone here had above average hearing- so really, his whispered insults whereas good as speaking at normal volume.

- And to a hybrid- being called a pet is the ultimate insult.

- Namjoon freezes in the doorway, no matter that Jimin’s hand pulls at the arm of his long-sleeved shirt. A whine building for him to just leave it alone. Namjoon turns, jabbing his finger at Taeyong. “I want you gone before sundown tomorrow.”

- The four of them head down the stairs, leaving the silent room. The ground floor of the largest barn the area is flush with activity. With hybrids going every which way you must have decided that it was okay for everyone to return to their days as normal. Someone calls Taehyung’s name, asking for his help with something before he’s even fully down the narrow steps, Taehyung sends Jimin a single discerning look before he leaves. Namjoon utters a soft thank you to him as he slips away.

- In the grass- you share one final word with the police officer, shaking his hand with one hand resting on your baby bump. Though Jimin can tell from the way you hold yourself it's the last thing you want to do. He nods at Namjoon once as they approach and heads off down the hill. You’re quiet for a moment, going to hold jimin’s hand while Namjoon and Yoongi mill. None of you are sure what to do next.

- “I’m assuming Taeyong won’t be a problem anymore?” Namjoon has the good sense to look a little abashed at that. “He said- there was- he’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon.” Is all he says, and you nod, giving a sad look back to the barns. But you don’t counter what Namjoon’s said.

- And while Jimin knows there needs to be some sort of order here- it still seems a little extreme. Even if the threat of bodily harm was there- he didn’t actually do anything. It seems a little severe to throw them out for just a couple of words, and a shove. He tells Namjoon this much as they walk up the footpath to the main house.

- You whip your head around, looking stricken, and Jimin have to struggle not to flinch back, you look almost angry with yourself for the sudden movement. all of you are a little on edge. “He almost hurt you Jimin! he was about to-“ Yoongi fists a hand in the back of Jimin’s shirt, “if he’d hurt you I don’t know what I’d-“ you break off, and Jimin sees you sigh and the breath sounds all rickety like there's something else rattling around in your lungs. You shake your head and hold onto his hand tighter.

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip and keeps walking towards the main house after a moment. And he can’t help feeling like he was the one who kind of did start it. A hand on your arm to help you up the steps. You’re getting more and more pregnant every day, and your baby bump has become more of a mound than the small bulge you had when Jimin first came.

- Jimin just wants to make sure you don’t wobble or trip. Unable to shake the feeling that the reason why Namjoon had punished the others was because of how they’d treated Jimin- and not because of any rules.

- Jimin’s gotten to know you and Namjoon pretty well over the last few months, but the way Namjoon keeps his head down, playing with his hands, makes him look younger and more open than he’s ever been around Jimin. Namjoon and Jimin linger just inside your house. standing quietly- letting their tempers fade.

- The cat hybrids have already started dinner, the clamor familiar and comforting. One of them hears you come in and calls your name; Yoongi is close behind, he doesn’t look at Jimin. And Jimin smells his scent- his fluffy marshmallow goodness twined with a hint of something burn and feels the guilt clinging to him like bad perfume. He’s about to head after him when Namjoon grabs his shoulder. “Should I- you’re going to stay up here right?”

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip. and even he has to admit that staying up here tonight is a more attractive offer than returning to the barns anytime soon. “Yes- if you want me too” Namjoon nods, looks shy, but Jimin can tell what he’s feeling through his scent. The worry makes the pine strong and musky and tempts Jimin to curl up in it. Namjoon couldn’t tolerate being separated from any of his pack right now; not with the danger of a killer on the loose. Namjoon tugs him in the direction of the stairs. “There’s something I want to show you then.”

- The last time he’d been up on the more private floor of your house he hadn’t really had any time to explore. Namjoon leads him to one of the unknown and previously unopened doors that line the long hallway between your master suite and the stairs, pointing out Yoongi’s room as they go. The room is small and more than a little dusty. But it’s the closest unoccupied room to the master suite and across the hall from Yoongi’s. “Oh” Jimin realizes as it clicks, “you meant stay- as in move in stay.”

- Namjoon has to kick away boxes of Christmas decorations to get to the queen covered with a white sheet that fluffs with dust when he pulls away. Jimin touches the edge softly. He’s never had a bed so big all to himself before- he doesn’t know how he’s going to handle so much vacant space next to him.

- There will be no soft sounds of sleep and rising chests when Jimin wakes in the middle of the night. Only the sounds of the house, and even though this means he’ll get to spend more time with you, Namjoon, and Yoongi, the room can’t help but feel lonely. Something in his chest reminds him that he’s not really that far, Yoongi’s room is across the hall, and yours just a few steps after that.

- Maybe he won’t feel so lonely after all.

- The windows are covered with thick drapes, kind of small in themselves. And it makes the room feel darker and cold. “We’ll move out the decorations to the attic tomorrow, are you gonna be okay with this for tonight? We can get you some fresh sheets and blankets.”

- Jimin nods hands tugging back the curtains to let more light in. Namjoon reaches around him to crack it open when the window sticks. Even though this room doesn’t feel like his yet. Namjoon almost drops a box of decorations “you could also sleep in our room if you want?”

- Jimin can’t do much more than just blush and nod, stuttering out that he’ll decide later. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to be all snuggled close between you and Namjoon it’s just that- things are happening a little too fast. Jimin feels like he might need a night to just decompress.

- The body, the police, the fight, and Jimin almost falling through the window. For some reason, Jimin feels paralyzed in that doorway. On one hand, he’s happy that he has a room here now that he doesn’t have to go back to the bunk room for more than his clothes, and on the other hand he’s sure he doesn’t deserve it.

- Like Namjoon can sense he’s overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to feel, he pulls Jimin to follow him. Gentle orders that tell Jimin what to do with his body and give his mind a second to catch up. Namjoon retrieves fresh linens and a big fluffy blanket from the closet while Jimin hovers hugging a pillow to his chest.

- The elder prattles along to Jimin about getting him some more things to fill the room like a dresser when Jimin notices it. A small narrow door that’s mostly glass down the hall from your master bedroom and the bathroom that Jimin assumes he’ll share with Yoongi.

- Unless Yoongi has a bathroom in his room. Jimin asks Namjoon- who tells Jimin that he does and Jimin pouts. He has to admit he wouldn’t mind Sharing a bathroom with Yoongi. Flashbacks of that night, of Yoongi’s skin, pressed close to his underneath the deluge of water- consume him for a moment at the thought of that.

- Before he pads over to see the other room at the end of the hallway. It’s narrow, only the with of the couch at the end and twice as long, Jimin could probably touch both walls if he lied down on the floor Waist height windows ring the outside of the room and a few skylights cast square shadows on the floor, The roof slanted down at one edge.

- A single potted plant sits on the waist-high shelf- crusty and brown from no one watering it. He orients himself in the house to figure out what room is below him but the smells and sounds drifting up from the floor tells him he’s somewhere above the kitchens.

- He stands in the doorway. A thick layer of dust sits on everything. But the light is amazing. All golden in the afternoon haze though that might just be the walls. The light yellow paint is faded, cracked a bit by the doorway but it's nothing a fresh coat couldn’t fix.

- Jimin knows the second he sees it that he wants it.

- Namjoon finds him standing in the doorway. Already looking out the windows- he can see the gardens from here and the woods that stretch beyond. And the edge of a falling-down barn yet to be restored by you and Namjoon- and a tiny sliver of the river. “What- what is this?” Jimin’s voice is so hushed. So quiet, like he’s worried about disturbing the dust.

- Namjoon comes up close behind him, putting his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “It’s a sunroom.” Namjoon clarifies. In the afternoon light, Namjoon’s skin looks honeyed and golden, horizontal shafts of light stretching across his face. Namjoon pulls Jimin close, nose running along his hairline and near his ears, nuzzling into them. His back the perfect place for Jimin to rest his heavy shoulders.

- “Is it okay if I- can I stay here and not the other room?” Namjoon’s smile is reassuring and gentle, “probably, but let's ask.” Of course, Namjoon would know Jimin needed explicit permission right now- needs the sureness of a yes or no from you.

- The sight that awaits Namjoon and Jimin in the living room is one that warms both of their hearts. You and Yoongi sitting side by side in front of the television. you’re listing into Yoongi sleepily head on his shoulder. Your eyes fluttering against your cheek adorably. Yoongi sends Namjoon a panicked look which means “please save me from her she’s being needy” but at least Yoongi isn’t shaking and going all panicky.

- With a word from Namjoon you wake, sitting up straight and yawning, taking in Jimin hovering on the steps, your smile sleepy and a little dopy. Your eyes still half-closed still looking soft and an inch from resting as you need.

- Namjoon’s hand rubs up and down your swollen exposed ankle. His voice honeyed like he doesn’t really want to wake you up. Hell Jimin would carry you up the stairs to let you rest in your own bed and not the couch even though it's barely 5 pm. It's been a long day for all of you.

- “Hey, can Jimin take the sunroom instead of the other room?” Yoongi gives a little surprised noise, eyebrows lifting in question, you seem to share his confusion. Jimin realizes that you must have already talked about which room would be his, and whole new warmth floods him. “Are you sure? That room’s a little small.”

- “I’d like to stay in there if you’ll let me- I mean- I can go back to the barns too” maybe he’d go to the girl side this time- he’s sure they wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the male hybrids. Namjoon and Yoongi look upset that he’d even try to suggest that. “Take the sunroom Jiminie,” you say, Namjoon and Jimin watch as Yoongi’s hands shake when he reaches forward before he slowly draws his hands through your hair, and you arch into he touch. If you were a hybrid Jimin thinks you’d be purring.

- Namjoon does actually end up carrying you upstairs, despite your protests that you could do it yourself. Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Jimin finishes it for him saying, “we’ll make dinner, you should rest.” Namjoon pauses on the lower step with you in his arms, and Jimin feels something in him settle. There isn’t a little bit of you that doesn’t want him to stay here, the way you so easily give up space for Jimin to be accepted into your routine- your home.

- It’s good; it feels good to knock shoulders with Yoongi in the kitchen, the craziness of the day calmed as the cat hybrids bring the food down to the barns for everyone.

- Taehyung stops by briefly to have a word with Namjoon- telling the elder that they have a rotating watch figured out for tonight to make sure nothing else happens. Taehyung empties out with the other cats, leaving just Jimin and Yoongi. It’s harder than it should be, but Yoongi instructs Jimin on how to do the chopping with a careful and slow demonstration while he starts on the stew.

- When Namjoon reappears a few minutes later he puts on the radio- switching it to something a little bit more his style, not kitschy pop or idealistic questionable country music, though Jimin doesn’t like it at first listen, he hears Yoongi humming along and figures- it’s enough to have them enjoy it. Especially to see Namjoon try and fail to shake his ass.

- The night gets even better when Jimin goes to get you from your bed, calling your name so you wake up with barely a huff as you blink at him. You look so soft Jimin can’t resist it, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your forehead.

- You eat dinner on the porch, and the night gets better with every moment. every second Jimin realizes that he always should have been here. The love filling Jimin up just like the fresh bread and Yoongi’s stew, Namjoon and Jimin go inside halfway through the dinner to get blankets for you and Yoongi.

- Dinner reinvigorates you four, and though Jimin protests “I can just sleep in the other room tonight it’s really not a big deal” Namjoon and Yoongi shake their heads at him, though you're left out since you really can’t lift anything.

- After dinner Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin pull down the attic stairs from the hallway, and go up to the third floor to find a bed that will fit in the sunroom. You shout and pull yoongi out of the way when Namjoon and Jimin lose their grip and the soft mattress clangs down the stairs, sliding with a soft thump. They’re more careful with the box spring.

- They shout and huff with joyful frustration when the couch gets stuck in the doorway of the sunroom. The kind of happiness that comes with a problem that you can fix- and like who you fix it with. And finally, when you fit the double bed into the space it just barely fits. You set the bed up with pillows and sheets asking Jimin again and again if he really doesn’t mind just the single bed while Namjoon and Yoongi put the green velvet couch outside in the hallway nook, just across from the bathroom.

- The first morning Jimin wakes in the sunroom is the most peaceful morning he’s ever gotten. The light comes in so early that it’s hard for him to sleep past sunrise. From all the way up here, he can see the way that the dew on the grass makes the whole field sway and sparkle like the ocean. He taps his toes against the wall as he sits up and looks out, and hears a knock at his door. A soft rap on the glass.

- The sounds he hears below say he’s not the only one awake in the house. And still, the sight of you in your extra-large sleeping clothes and your robe makes him surprised. Though the tangled mess of your hair says you’re barely awake. Jimin slept so well that his ears hang nearly in front of his eyes, soft little floppy things that you push out of the way, Pushing back his wild hair as you do it. You have two cups of hot coffee in your hands. One, which you sit on the shelf that rings the room, and the other that you press into his hands, the warm ceramic a welcomed weight.

- Jimin helps you sit, a hand on your lower back to ease the ache. Without really thinking he guides you to sit back against his chest. It’s quiet and it’s lovely. And Jimin trails his nose down your shoulder and holds you loosely around your waist. “I forgot how nice this room is.” You say after your cup is halfway gone, Jimin’s cheek rested against your shoulder.

- “It’s so bright- I love it.” when Jimin closes his eyes he can still see the dark garage where he used to sleep- was it barely 4 months ago? Is he okay now? Is it okay to hope? Can he really count on things to be okay? To count that they won’t get bad again?

- With you in his arms, Jimin feels like it’s okay to hope for more good things.

- It feels like the right time to say it, the light spilling into the little yellow room, his tail thumping against the bed. The soft comforter that you picked out for him last night encircling you both like a halo.

- The words are gentle, and they’re the truest Jimin’s ever said, “I love you” you smile over the edge of your coffee cup, lips soft and pink like two bright petals, happy little flowers like happy moments blooming with frequency. Every soft thing that Jimin’s ever wanted or dreamed of. Every way you could love a person- that's the way that Jimin loves you. And it feels like an unbreakable promise when you smile up at him. “I love you too Minnie.”

- And that’s how it happens. He says it again over breakfast and Namjoon barely lifts his eyebrows in wonder. But his tail betrays his attention, His tail kicking up a happy rhythm. Now that he’s said it- he feels like he doesn’t want to stop.

- Yoongi pays the revelation a little more attention, making prolonged eye contact with jimin and stumbling around the kitchen half asleep like usual. But isn’t Yoongi the one who had taught Jimin how to love like this? That love is not really about saying it- but showing it. Yoongi- who he’s still never heard speak. and Somehow it doesn’t bother Jimin as much anymore.

- The next morning goes much like that- as does the next and the next. You spend the late nights all cuddled up together on the couches watching movies or sometimes you’ll retire to your small study room on the first floor to do some work- typing away on your computer. Calculating monthly costs, balancing your budget, submitting your paperwork on time to get funding from the state- the endless budgeting.

- Sometimes Yoongi helps, and you dictate numbers while he adds them up. Namjoon and Jimin sit on opposite ends of the couch, Jimin’s feet in Namjoon’s lap. And Jimin gets to watch the way Namjoon looks at you and Yoongi. “You really love them don’t you?” Jimin asks, worried about sounding jealous, but how could he really be jealous of that? Namjoon’s dimples are the most beautiful thing- Namjoon is the most beautiful thing when he’s happy. He nods shyly on the other edge of the couch. “Yes, so come here.”

- The aborted whine that tones out is enough to grab Yoongi’s attention when Namjoon clutches Jimin to his chest. The snake hybrid’s head appearing over the edge of the couch. The huffing sound that all of you associate with Yoongi’s laugh makes Jimin blush as Namjoon curls a strong arm around his waist. A deep rumbling in his chest similar to a purr as Jimin settles there. He can hear Namjoon’s heartbeat and ends up falling asleep to it.

- Other evenings you’ll make smoothies with them or root beer floats, teasing Yoongi for the foam on his upper lip. Jimin finds himself sinking into this easy happiness. Now when he wakes up in the morning. He doesn’t have the ire of the others to contend with. Though he makes sure to keep up his friendships.

- he follows Taehyung around more often now that he sees the four of you every waking moment. Taehyung and Jimin spend a few days together helping Seokjin and Hoseok clean out one of the unused barns together.

- He comes upon the two of them; that is Hoseok and Seokjin, sitting in the grass one day. The older hybrids hand laced in Hoseok’s curly hair. Taehyung murmurs to Jimin that they should just make it official already.

- He’d caught Hoseok sneaking out of the barns to head to Seokjin’s room more than once when he still lived in with the others. Since Seokjin is the only hybrid besides your little group that doesn’t stay in one of the main barns. And there were only so many places that Hoseok could be trying to go at that hour.

- They do make it official - though it takes a few days.

- It was early morning- just after breakfast and the three of you’d been buzzing with happy energy, Namjoon already half of the way out the door. Almost crashing into them where they’d waited unsure on your porch. “oh! Jin hyung! Hobi hyung!”

- Your morning plans for the usual gardening had been put on pause, Seokjin and Hoseok sitting hand in hand at the prep table while your hybrids try not to listen in. Namjoon doesn’t even bother - just stands behind you and rubs your shoulders while you listen. Their hands bound over the top of the table.

- “We’d do all of the work ourselves, and you know I wouldn’t ask you for any money for it- we want to do it on our own” Jin smiles, and you’ve never seen such a gently happy expression on his face. Next to him- the otter sits closer. Looking up at Jin like there isn’t anything more precious than he could hold in his hands. And while their love hadn’t completely escaped your notice- this is still a surprise.

- Seokjin makes a fair amount of money selling his yarns and other knitted goods from the alpacas and the sheep. You’d always been firm that he should keep the money he makes from it for himself and not give it to you to put into the farm. The same way you let the bear hybrids keep the money they make from harvesting the honey. You don’t own them- they’re their own people.

- One of the first things that Seokjin had bought with his money was a cellphone, and he and Hoseok excitedly show you ideas for tiny homes on Pinterest, boards of colorful little new England style cabins, loft beds, and micro-fridges. “We already have one in mind- you know the little cabin by the river?”

- Namjoon pipes up “you mean the old chicken coop? We can build you something nicer- the roof of that one is shot though- you’ll need an extra hand,” you look at their plans, careful doodles, and color swatches, nodding. “we’ll help you, of course, we’ll help you both.”

- And that’s how Seokjin and Hoseok had started work on their home. A separate place away from the rest of the farm for just the two of them to get some privacy. Though it's still on your property; neither of them has any sort of desire to ever leave the farm or each other now that they’ve found their mate.

- The house isn’t more than 200 square feet. And the roof does need a fair bit of work. But it’s not just a chicken coop like Namjoon had said, it’s got nice bones and a good foundation. It’s close enough to the animal barns where Seokjin will still be able to check on the animals every morning, but closer to the river.

- You don’t realize the significance of this until you’re helping them one day, Namjoon, Yoongi making quick work of some loose floorboards and the one wall that needs to be replaced. While Jimin and hoseok watch on- deemed a little too clumsy to help with some of the work. They look for wood-burning stoves on craigslist and other things that they’ll need to make the house complete.

- Seokjin takes a moment, coming to your side to get some of your offered lemonade, his hair tied back with a bandana. Sipping at it as he looks at Hoseok and Jimin. their feet dangling over the edge of the streambed. “He finds it calming- he can’t sleep without the ocean. That’s how I first noticed him- I caught him sneaking out one night just to listen to the running water.” Seokjin had confessed to you, watching Jimin and hoseok giggle at paint names as they flip through a color swatch book. A far cry away from how they’d once been.

- This little cabin is certainly close enough, a mere ten feet from the shore of the stream. And with all the windows open you can hear the babbling brook and the sound of the birds in the forest. Before they retire to Seokjin’s room above the stables. Both Hoseok and Seokjin stand in the cabin, taking their shoes off to feel the floor below them and think- this is it- this is our home. Holding each other close while they listen. Even if it will take another few months to get it truly in livable condition- to set the walls with insulation and electricity. This will be their home.

- But first, they cleaned it out. The whole bottom floor filled with dusty jam jars and weird bottles that Seokjin thinks must have been for moonshine. The next day- Jimin finds a few of the glass bottles have made the way into his new room. As Namjoon struggles to put together his new dresser, and Yoongi takes It over after Namjoon lets out his 5th frustrated sigh. They’re cleaned and polished, a small little rainbow of glass, filled with water and flowers that you pick with Jimin.

- Every morning you bring him coffee in his room. And it slowly progresses from there, sometimes you just leave it and let him sleep. Other mornings. Jimin gets to wake up with you in his arms. Watching him or cuddling him close. He Wakes to a press of lips against his forehead and your hands in his hair.

- His body always knows before he wakes. He’ll wake to find himself nuzzled close, or pulling you closer with greedy hands. He feels greedy with you now that he can have you every morning, though Namjoon gets the evenings.

- And when he falls asleep at night his sheets smell like you, like peaches and cream. And then one morning he wakes pressed chest to chest with you. Your baby bump taking up significant space on Jimin’s tiny bed. And without thinking, He tilts his face forward. Kissing you softly and simply. Pulling away, whispering good morning. The pink in your cheeks says you’re shocked, but you pick up like it’s nothing The same way you took his confession.

- Kissing you is nothing like kissing Yoongi- at least not at first. It starts slow- just the simple press of softness against softness, lip to lip, and breath to breath. Until Jimin gets the hot feeling in his mouth and both of you open your lips and start to get a little lost in each other.

- The kind of kiss that makes Jimin want to reach out and hold onto you and never ever let you leave this bed. The kind of kiss that takes both of you apart gently and slowly and so carefully. Has him growing hard in his pants more than once. But you’re both shy- both so scared of pushing this any farther before the timing is right.

- Sometimes, Jimin will wake to you in his bed and Namjoon smiling softly at both of you from the door. “You know- you could always just sleep in our bed.” and Jimin knows that Namjoon might be just the tiniest bit jealous. Jimin has been stealing you away in the mornings after all- and it must be hard for him not to snuggle his mate every goddamn day especially with how soft and needy you smell. It’s so hard to leave the bed some days.

- There are more kisses after that before you go up to bed at night. Yoongi and Namjoon stretched out on the couch, Namjoon prattling on about how inaccurate a movie is while Yoongi indulges him and nods along. You kiss Jimin on the steps, winding your arms around his neck so sweetly, Yoongi wolf whistles and Namjoon chortles, “get a room!”

- But when Jimin looks over Namjoon just winks at him, and keeps talking. Like it’s nothing to kiss you so sweetly and normal to do it in front of them. There are no secrets between the four of you. Maybe there are things that are left unsaid and uncommunicated- but there are no secrets.

- And that’s how Jimin first starts to fall into you. Easy and simple, like kisses and coffee in the morning. And Jimin loves everyone. Loves you so much sometimes it feels like his heart is going to break with it all.

- Jimin wishes his wanting stopped with the kisses, but it doesn’t, if anything it only grows. An ache in his jaw that wants to bite and consume like that moment with the kisses and Yoongi- he wants to kiss you deeper and deeper but it never ends up going that way. Not even when your bare thighs brush him in the morning and Jimin can tell you’re only wearing underwear underneath the shirt that smells so much like Namjoon.

- Jimin smells you on Namjoon, smells Namjoon on you, and wants and wants and wants. It’s worse on the mornings that you’re a little late coming to Jimin’s bed, and on the ones where you come in smelling undeniably like Yoongi too. And Jimin can’t fathom what it means and isn’t brave enough to ask.

- He asks Taehyung what it could mean- confessing it all in a rush one afternoon while they process some of the honey. Heating up the wax in the kitchen. Tae just laughs at him. “Are you sure they’re not all together? I mean- they are your pack Jiminie and he’s lived there longer than you have.” Yoongi has lived in your home longer. And it stands to reason if you and Namjoon have invited Jimin to your bed, that you might have invited Yoongi too.

- But Jimin doesn’t know for sure until one morning he wakes restless, his bed vacant. He can hear soft steps in your room. But when he peers down the hall, he’s shocked to find Yoongi softly closing the door behind him. His hair looks a little ruffled, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he slinks off to his own bedroom.

- You’re not the only one bed-hopping. And Jimin thinks about what it might mean. Yoongi hasn’t come to Jimin’s room. And he thinks back to the way Yoongi kissed him like it was the best and the worst, the sweetest but most forbidden thing. Maybe he’s just too nervous.

- Yoongi stays up late with Jimin, and they can both hear and smell the arousal that shoots down the stairs from both of you. Jimin has smelt it more than once by now, on you or on the air that bacons them- as members of the same pack to the same place. Jimin wonders how Yoongi handles it. Because it has Jimin growing half hard in his pajama pants, shifting on the couch needy. Yoongi’s too from the looks of it- but the snake never makes a move. Your moans echo from upstairs, their sensitive hybrid ears can hear every word that you share. And Jimin can almost taste you on the air.

- Namjoon’s gentle teasing growl is faint as is his words, “do you want them to hear you, my love? is that why you’re being so loud?- or is this” Namjoon pauses, and a wet sound fills the silence, “just too much for you?”

- At night, when you’re not there, Jimin bites the pillow and lets his own hands wander. Feels guilty and not guilty at all when you end up in bed with him the next morning, and he licks at the hickeys on your neck left there by Namjoon’s mouth, tasting his alpha on your skin and on your lips.

- Jimin goes to bed one evening alone, and lies listless for a moment before he realizes how much he wants to fall asleep next to you too- Namjoon too. How many times had Namjoon invited Jimin to stay in your room? How many times had he woken up to you by now? He knows the other room isn’t off limits and right now. His body shivers with need, for touches and touches, any that you’d give him. He tells himself he’s just looking for a goodnight kiss as he gets up and walks to your door, the house quiet so late in the evening.

- It shouldn’t feel so tremulous when Jimin walks to your room, to see the warm yellow light leaking through the door. Already cracked and open a few inches letting the noise of you and Namjoon spill out. The giggles he can hear, your voice, sounding the way you do when you smile. And then, a bitten-off moan.

- Jimin can’t stop himself from looking through the crack in the door- even though he knows it’s a private moment, that he really shouldn’t. You’re sitting in-between Namjoon’s legs on the edge of the bed. Jimin’s alphas mouth is firmly attached to your neck, licking and biting and sucking in a way that has Jimin riveted.

- But what really grabs his better judgment by the balls is the way that he can see the silhouette of your body through the large white shirt of Namjoon’s. The shirt so thin and well worn that jimin can see the shadow of your nipples and the hard outline that Namjoon’s hands smooth over, teasing them to a stiff peak. it has Jimin’s mouth-watering. Namjoon’s deep voice crooning as his hands pull at the hem over your baby bump, “let me see you, darling.”

- You’d complained to Jimin the other day that this far into your pregnancy none of your clothes were fitting comfortably anymore, and he can see the supple swell of your stomach and the generous curves of your body. Jimin can’t help but drink in, and stare at hungrily, swallowing thickly. A low whine of want building in his throat.

- He knows it’s wrong to be jealous, but he can’t help it. The feeling growing in his gut as he watches Namjoon pull you back to bed despite your protests. Namjoon looks deliciously good too; miles of his golden skin on display, his rippling thigh muscles exposed. Hair sleep or sex ruffled (Jimin can’t tell the difference)

- “Love I have to pee” you whine, Namjoon’s arms still ensnare your waist and he answers only with a playful growl as he hides his head in your shoulder. His hands roaming those curves like Jimin dreams of doing, Namjoon’s tail thudding against the plush comforter.

- You sigh, your head tilted up, one of your arms back behind you to tug at Namjoon’s hair, swollen pink lips parting in a sigh. He shouldn’t be watching this- this isn’t meant for him to see, this is intimate. He backs up and immediately hits a warm wide chest. “Yoongi!” Jimin squeaks, conscious enough to be quiet, his cheeks flaming as he’s caught.

- The snake hybrid raises an eyebrow in question. Yoongi looks ruffled, his hair messy from sleep. And it seems Jimin isn’t the only one who had plans on sneaking into your room so late at night. Yoongi’s cheeks are pink in the half-light.

- Yoongi leans in, nose so close to Jimin’s throat- where his scent is the strongest and Jimin almost flinches when he realizes how strung out and aroused he smells. Yoongi’s rippling growl makes Jimin’s legs week.

- You’ve suddenly fallen silent in the other room; exchanging soft words that Jimin can’t hear. “I was just going to…” Jimin searches for a reason, to remember why he was here in the first place. His cheeks absolutely flaming, but before he can find a good reason to why he’s listening in and being quite the voyeur Namjoon speaks up from inside your bedroom.

- “Jimin, Yoongi” not a question, but a command. Yoongi reaches around Jimin to push the door fully open so that both of you can see the two of them. “You can come in,” you say.

- Jimin has never been redder than he has been right now. Seeing you and Namjoon in your bed, obviously, about to- Jimin gulps audibly. “You don’t have to watch from the hallway” Namjoon teases. “You can watch from in here” Jimin is actually going to pass out, and you sense this, smacking Namjoon lightly on the arm. “Don’t tease him Joonie.”

- “Is it really okay if I-“ Jimin feels tongue-tied, his mind hazy with the smell of both of you, the pheromones that his sensitive nose can pick up on the smell of your slick, and Jimin’s mouth is suddenly so so wet. “I don’t want-“ Jimin breaks off; trying to keep his gaze averted, but can’t resist peeking. “I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable.”

- Jimin sees out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon’s hands rubbing up and down your waist, and he wants to look, wants to see- but can’t. Keeps his eyes averted. “You don’t Jiminie- I” you break off when Namjoon’s hand travels further south. Your other puppy has absolutely no problem trying to distract you. Jimin can’t see exactly what Namjoon’s hands are doing but your chest jumps. And he realizes he’s staring again.

-“If you’re going to look- you might as well help me take care of her too” Jimin has never heard Namjoon’s voice sound so guttural, and a look at Yoongi reveals his pink cheeks too. “unless you just want to watch like Yoongi does, that's fine too”

- Jimin sends yoongi an accusatory glance, and the snake hybrid just shrugs at him. leveling him with a dedicatory look. well, Minnie- which are you going to choose?

- “I want- I want” jimin cant get the words out. He knows he doesn't want to leave. but is it really okay if he- is he really allowed to touch you? to make you smell like him the way that Namjoon does? Claiming you in that way. “jiminie- you can- I want you too-” your words are so quiet, face so warm. And it makes Jimin whine- looking to Namjoon for guidance. Imploring him to make the choice- to take the hint because Jimin just needs a little push. And from the looks of it so do you.

- “You’re both obviously too shy to get it done- so let me take the reigns okay?” Namjoon counters to the silence. Yoongi is still standing behind Jimin, a step closer than should be necessary, and you give them both a shy, wide-eyed look. Like you’re checking to see that this wants it too. Jimin nods, short, jerky, unable to tear his eyes away from your face to see Namjoon’s expression until the elder shifts.

- Yoongi crosses to the other side of the room where a green velvet chair sits, stretching out and making himself comfortable. Whereas Jimin and Namjoon are always a little too soft looking to be threatening. Yoongi eyes the three of you like he’s some sort of predator. Tongue flicking out to lick at his lip. Like he can taste what Jimin can smell- the four of you- the smells of your arousals mixing together. Something satisfying and musky and undeniably pack that makes Yoongi's every instinct sing.

- Jimin has always appreciated Namjoon’s body, the strength there. In many ways he’s the stereotypical alpha; the strength in his arms and in his chest, his collarbones strong and chiseled, but he’s anything but cocky. There is someone so genuine about how unconcerned Namjoon is with his own body, and jimin can’t help but find his confidence attractive.

- Namjoon lounges back against his hands, And the way he watches Jimin watch both of you lets Jimin know that it’s okay to look his fill. Yoongi too, the low rippling growl he lets out fills the room, makes you feel hot all over as his eyes roam you, Namjoon, and Jimin- the pretty picture you both paint.

- You sit between Namjoon’s legs, his hands on either side of your inner thigh parting your legs gently to show your wetness to Jimin. You make an aborted noise as you realize what he’s doing. All of you swollen and bear for him and nothing to cover you but Namjoon’s shirt and that just barely hiding the tone of your skin behind the creamy white fabric. You’re not wearing any underwear.

- Your pink core trembles a little, your hand gripping Namjoon’s forearm as he grins, drunk on the feel of you in his hands as he squeezed your thighs. Namjoon goes a step further Reaching down to glide a thumb across your wetness. Making you jerk in his hold as he hits the little sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your cunt, glistening wet and ready.

- “Can you believe it?” he says, his voice a blown-out growl. “So full and still ready for us?” beside Jimin, Yoongi’s pupils are blown, his body jerking as he shifts in his chair, hips on the edge.

- You’re wet and dripping. Your face is hot as you look at him, standing there in the middle of the room, fully clothed while you and Namjoon are intimately bare. Jimin can’t tear his eyes away from you. You smell so ripe and for the taking.

- “You can come closer- you can touch Minnie, it’s okay,” Namjoon says it that way, but his eyes are on Yoongi, gliding down his hips to the bulge in his pants. Namjoon knows he won’t come closer- even if he really wants yoongi too. And Jimin sees that pain him- just for a moment before he puts his chin out in his direction. It’s okay- anything that Yoongi wants, whatever level he feels he can partake in this- it’s okay. Jimin wonders how Yoongi can handle it and hold himself back; how he can handle the dizzying rush of pheromones and not come closer.

- Yoongi settles, his eyes hazy and his legs spread to make room for his hands that touch with purpose. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- at him, his hands slowly smoothing up and over the bulge in his pants or at you. The way you drink in every line of Yoongi, stretched out in his tight pants. A simple hand at your throat, Namjoon rolling his fingers down from your chin to your collarbones. “Let's put on a show for him yeah? Is that what you want Yoongi?”

- Yoongi’s tongue is pink as it swipes across his lips, he nods. In a moment, Jimin feels a little unsure, but that instantly dissipates as Namjoon gestures for him to come forward.

- He’s never been touched or touched another in this way- not with love anyway. All of the small touches you’ve given him, hands on your shoulders the small of your back, felt nothing like this. His fingers reaching out, rounding on the edge of your knee experimentally. Waiting to see your reaction to make sure what he’s doing is okay. Namjoon’s tail starts up it’s wagging behind you. his hands shake with too warm palm smoothing over skin he’s never seen let alone been allowed to touch. He looks at you and feels positively ravenous, licking his lips.

- Namjoon trails a kiss down your neck and Jimin can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to sink into the skin there too. In a moment- he’s not sure if he’d rather be you being bitten or be Namjoon biting you on the neck. You probably don’t get the significance of it quite yet but Jimin- Jimin wants to be on the receiving end of that mark. To bear the mark of an alpha means to be under their protection.

- He wants all of it- all of your sweet looking soft and supple swells. Your body that’s accommodated the life within you so well and deserves a little appreciation. Anything, everything, Jimin and Namjoon will gladly provide. And Yoongi will be content to look. Not ready quite yet to be apart of this the way Jimin is. But it makes you feel hot all over, his piercing eyes on every movement. Barely even blinking.

- Jimin doesn’t know how to be the same sultry tempter that Namjoon is- but at the very least he can follow his lead. Jimin hasn’t had many sultry kisses- the ones you’d shared in your bedroom done with less intent, but he hopes that these can be just as satisfying. He leans in close to you, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to steady himself as he leans down.

- The kiss is a gentle thing that Jimin knows won’t hurt. You’d never hurt him- because you’re like him. His softness and sweetness is just like yours. Both shy and honest- the genuine passion that overflows too easy. Like a hurricane filling a teacup.

- You know to go slow, and Jimin lets Namjoon- his alpha, (a whole rush goes down his spine at the idea of it) take the reigns. Feeling a comforting protective feeling wash over him as your lips play together. You suck on one of his lower lips, plush and soft between yours, and hasten a soft bite that has Jimin gasping, jerking forward to rest both hands of his on your upper thighs. Namjoon lets them go- lets you settle in between both of them.

- He pulls away with a start. “I want both of you- please just- please- let me” you’re already pulling at the edge of his shirt. You’d seen his softness here and there too, but now, having him underneath the palm of your hands feels even better. Jimin has gained weight since he got to the farm yes- but he’s also put on more muscle than anything else, enough protein and hard work has left him soft but with clean edges, lines on his hips that point invitingly south. Dimples that you sink your fingers into.

- You hover there, skimming your hands along them, Namjoon reaching out from behind you to press a flat hand to Jimin’s pelvis, his flannel pajama pants still on, but still, even you can feel the way his abdominal muscles clench at the slightest touch. Even as you tug, give a pleading little whine, Jimin is so so weak to all of you. Jimin takes off his pants so quickly that he almost trips and falls into you, and a quiet chuckles and quick look says that Namjoon is equally as endeared by Jimin’s eagerness as you are. Even Yoongi is grinning.

- Yoongi makes a noise too and all of you look over, he’s got his pants pulled down his hips too, hands slowly teasing at the head of his cock hidden by his boxers. A wet spot there that makes jimin lick his lips. One-day Jimin will earn Yoongi’s trust enough to get his mouth on that length. Yoongi juts his chin out- an invitation to continue.

- Jimin wonders how often you’ve done this before with Yoongi- if this is only the second or third time. The question hovers on the tip of his tongue, struck out of his mind when you put your hands on him and touch him properly. Behind you Namjoon shifts, finally showing that he’s bare too- not even wearing underwear.

- A first look says yes, Namjoon is a little longer than Jimin is. But he’s far thicker than Namjoon and that small blessing in itself has a whole new kind of heat thinning in his gut. Especially when Namjoon stands and measures, going hip to hip with Jimin so that the head of his cock touches Jimin’s stomach. The older hybrid reaching out to skim his large hand over his head. Jimin’s already wet and sensitive gasping at how Namjoon’s hands- so big, fail to cover all of him.

- “I really shouldn’t call you puppy” he hastens with a chuckle, tugging at jimin’s erection, and Jimin can’t help but whine and pant. Namjoon’s mouth skims down and over Jimin’s shoulder, the contact lighting sparks under his skin with how sensitive he feels, and yet- it's still not where he wants it, Jimin feels vacant his mouth unclaimed until you stand too.

- This time you tug Jimin down with a hand in his hair, running your fingers over his ears the same moment that Namjoon bites down on his neck and pulls, teasing over the head of his cock. and it’s too much- too much so soon- making Jimin go soft and pliant as Namjoon sucks jimin’s skin between his teeth. Jimin doesn't know why the edge of a high rises so quickly only that it does and leaves his knees weak- almost giving out at the weight of all the pleasure.

- To Jimin’s credit- he only cums a little- maybe not a full orgasm from just that. The shame and humiliation of Cumming so early makes him want to hide his face in you and hide he does. Especially when Namjoon lifts his hand up to look at Jimin’s release, chuckles, and licks it.

- He collapses into your front, breathing heavily already. The waves of your sweet arousal washing over him, his nose feels so sensitive he wants to bury it in your heat and breathe in deep, his whole body feels sensitive as Namjoon- now behind Jimin, smoothed his hands up and down his sides, somehow knowing he was a little too overwhelmed by so much so quick.

- He hopes that’s not weird- he has a feeling he’s just a little too touch starved not to get wound up. He doesn’t want this to be over that fast, wants to savor every moment. “I’m sorry,” he squeaks out, but you and Namjoon are quick to soothe him.

- “It’s nothing to be ashamed about Minnie baby, you’re just a little sensitive” Jimin loves that- that nickname falling from your mouth as your touches get slower. more sensual and loving so they don’t overwhelm him so fast. He can tell you and Namjoon and maybe Yoongi are sharing a glance, communicating silently about Jimin- but it doesn’t make him feel annoyed. It just makes him feel cared for.

- Jimin knows he could go again, isn’t finished, he’s still rock hard, cock bobbing and twitching against his stomach. He just needs a moment to calm down.

- You guide him to sit back up against the bed and he lies, half in your lap and half to the side. Shifting closer to you with his nose pressed to your neck, licking and sucking to his heart's content. Leaving his bruises right next to Namjoon’s.

- You’re used to the way that Namjoon gets after an orgasm, his more animal instincts closer to the surface. Sometimes he even fails to speak with words, instead favoring whines and growls. It doesn't surprise you at all that Jimin would fall into a similar headspace the second he got overwhelmed. He laps at your skin, tail thumping as his ears twitch. His nose drawing small circles. The instincts in him pulling him lower as Namjoon rubs up and down his back soothingly.

- Jimin doesn’t realize where he’s ended up until your soft laugh and Namjoon’s chuckle join in tandem. “I take it back- you’re a puppy.” Jimin goes absolutely bright red as he opens his eyes and realizes that he’s been nosing at your breasts, the origin for your milky sweet scent.

- “Can I- have a taste?” he asks. And you turn hot for a whole different reason. you push him off a little, and Jimin wants to whine before he realizes that you’re finally taking off your shirt. and /oh/ you’re so soft looking. Your chest ample and swollen- you look absolutely perfect.

- “Sure but- uhm- I’m- just don’t be surprised if I-” you’re stuttering and shy and Namjoon just leans over, pulling lightly at your sensitive nipples so that Jimin can see for himself. He really is good at making sure you guys don’t get too shy to continue, he’s a good alpha.

- At the sight of a small bead of milk tugged forward by Namjoon’s hand Jimin growls, He tugs a little more and a single droplet travels down your sternum. You exhale as you feel the full heavy feeling that your breasts have taken on these past few weeks starts to ease a little.

- Jimin notices your discomfort the way you shift and doesn’t think- his instincts taking over before he leans forward and hastens a lick. taking the droplet from your skin into his mouth and licking up- so that he doesn't waste a drop. his plush lips melt around your nipple and he closes his eyes- savoring it. It only takes a small suck for your milk to really come in, and you shift instantly under Jimin's hands, throwing your head back with a sigh as the ache eases. Jimin growls and pulls you forward by a hand underneath your back, jostling you in his eagerness.

- You taste so sweet, the fatty liquid sliding down his throat as he suckles eagerly. Namjoon buries his fingers into your hair, pulling you up to kiss him but Jimin isn’t paying attention- can’t concentrate on anything other than the smooth taste of you sliding over his tongue as he sucks and sucks and sucks. the taste of you- the cream to your peaches and cream scent sliding like ambrosia over his tongue.

- Jimin may not be talkative- brought down to his lower basic instincts- but he does make noise. His tail wagging behind him Hitting Namjoon’s, a whine mixing with a growl. Eyes rolling back into his head- he can’t help it you just taste so fucking good.

- You can’t concentrate on Namjoon’s kiss either; your mouth open and a little sloppy, Namjoon levels you with a hot look. “What do you say lovely? Does she taste as good as she smells?” Jimin is so drunk on you that he barely even hears Namjoon. His teeth nip a little, you hissing a little.

- Namjoon tugs on Jimin’s hair and the other hybrid growls. It’s a Feral and angry sound- anything that would take him away from your sweet taste would have jimin angry. It’s so unexpected- that he would be so possessive- that Namjoon actually laughs.

- You do too, though it’s quickly interrupted by a moan when Jimin pauses his sucking to lave a lick against your nipple. Namjoon holds him too far away for him to properly suck. “Gentle puppy” Jimin’s hands grip underneath your breasts, possessively clinging to you. whining at Namjoon. begging his alpha to let him go back. Namjoon lets Jimin tug his own hair before he guides his head back to you.

- Namjoon keeps your eye contact until the second he lowers to suck too. Having both of them at the same time overwhelms you. Especially when you look past their heads and see Yoongi licking his lips too. Stroking his red cock slowly and carefully. The head is already red, and you can tell from the way he pulls off that he’d edging himself. Hips shaking every time he senses his touches. And you wonder if he wants to cum with you. His throat bobbing every time his tongue darts out.

- Having both their mouths on you makes you keen. And when Namjoon guides Jimin’s hand to your cunt you lose it- moaning, panting their names and gripping at their heads, pulling their hair. Jimin’s hands are sloppy as they grip and touch. Hungrily exploring your thighs. Namjoon’s a little more guided, paying special attention to your entrance. When he realizes Jimin’s gotten distracted feeling up your thighs and ass he guides Jimin so finger you, smooth fingertips rubbing at your walls in time with his sucks, while Namjoon rubs smooth circles against your clit.

- You time the rolls of your hips with Yoongi’s as he shallowly fucks his hand.

- You cum like that, both their hands on you, and Yoongi’s growl, Namjoon’s head snap up. “You can cum Yoongi” Namjoon commands, with a fucked out chuckle. Your milk caught in one of his dimples. Yoongi’s hands are tight around the knot at the base of his cock, cum dripping down around his wrist, his head thrown back. Lazily spread out, his limbs turned to jelly.

- To Yoongi- it doesn't feel awkward to have cum so soon. If anything the sheer intimacy of it all- knowing that he can be vulnerable and fucked out in front of both of you- makes him feel even hazier. And just because he’s cum- doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the sight of you three all tangled together.

- Jimin’s hardness pokes at your thigh as he straddles it. Rocking against you in time with his sucks. hands returning to their appreciation of your thighs once you’ve cum, head a little clearer. Namjoon is equally as hard and waiting. Namjoon groans as one of your hands finds his cock.

- You’re used to the way he likes it by now, concentrating your attention on his head. Your other less dominant hand still makes Jimin jerk. Fucking into the tight circle of your hand that can’t fit around the entirety of his cock but is more than enough to tease his head until he’s throbbing.

- Jimin gives one last bite as your milk peters off; no more left and your other breast rightfully as drained, pulling away and licking at his lips. He’s so high on the taste of you, the smell of you, all of you that he barely realizes he’s grinding against your thigh or into your hand. Namjoon stills your hand against him when he gets close. Your thighs shake as Namjoon guides both of you to sit back; pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jimin’s, and then your tummy.

- “Why don’t you watch and see how it’s done puppy” Jimin gets off, sitting on his knees to the side and resists the urge to touch. Namjoon gives him a look and you look up from where you lie against the bed, grinning at him. but he’s obedient, doesn't touch, and just watches to learn.

- “Would you cum again if I called you good b-” Jimin flushes, scrambling to get a hand over your mouth and stop you from finishing that sentence as his cock twitches and dribbles pre-cum onto the blanket. Face flaming as you laugh against his palm. “Yes- so please don’t I just want to-” Jimin whines. the humiliation making him hornier somehow. Yoongi’s rueful grin and Namjoon's expectant expression that says Jimin is just the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

- It’s somewhat of an honesty thing too- because you know Jimin- you know him so well enough to tease him and have it not be awkward but arousing- knowing just the right words to say to get him riled up. To prove to you that he can be good- can learn how to fuck you well without cumming (again) “why don’t you help me hold her Minnie.”

- Namjoon’s smirk is happy and a little fucked out as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed by your ankles, your laughter turning into a giggle. Knowing how Namjoon loves to man handle you. And you’d be lying if his strength- the fact that he can still lift you without issue even this far into your pregnancy wasn’t a little bit of a turn on.

- Namjoon gently manhandles you into the position he wants, you stretched out against the sheets, your nipples all puffy and pink from the way Namjoon and jimin mercilessly handled you earlier. A bruise forming where Jimin was a little rough, half-circles from his mouth.

- Namjoon guides you to hold your hands above your head, guiding your wrists into Jimin’s to hold you there, his hands lacing with yours, bending down to kiss you. You gasp into Jimin’s mouth at the first push of Namjoon into your dripping cunt. The push and pull of his hips. It’s as erotic as it is sweet, Jimin presses his hips to the bed to relieve some of the aches but does not rut forward. And a look from Namjoon tells him to be careful- he’ll allow that- but the next time Jimin cums Namjoon wants it to be by his command.

- “You see Minnie- she’s not the biggest fan of a rough fuck- we’ve got to be gentle with her see, but as long as you make them deep and long she likes it” Namjoon shows Jimin and below Them, you moan. Lacing your fingers with Jimin's.

- There is a certain unspoken dominance between Namjoon and the other hybrids. You too- though that has less to do with scent and the instinctual pull that you feel to be good for him. Jimin can’t get a good handle on why exactly he wants to do everything the elder says only that the idea of Namjoon being upset with him right now sends a jolt of fear all the way to the end of his tail.

- When Namjoon cums it’s with a low groan, and you squirting weakly around his cock. Your thighs are shaking and Namjoon leans close to kiss you through you high, then leans up to kiss Jimin too in reward for being patient.

- You’re panting, body humming with pleasure as you feel namjoon’s knot press just outside your entrance, bulging so much that his rocking rubs against your clit. Namjoon is careful to fist his knot in his hand, meant to lock him and his partner in place to ensure a pregnancy would take place. If you were a hybrid you would be keening for his knot, probably crying for it. But as it is you’re a little glad he didn’t decide to stretch you out on it today.

- You’re sure that the next time you cum your eyes are going to roll back. And you might pass out. It’s happened before. The first night you and Namjoon ever let Yoongi watch you. Namjoon had so thoroughly put you through your paces that you’d collapsed, and come to with two very panicked hybrids standing over you.

- Especially because it would have taken several long minutes to go down and Jimin is hard and aching for you. Namjoon is a good and patient alpha; he’ll let Jimin knot you tonight. Namjoon gives his knot one final squeeze before he gestures for Jimin. He lets go of your hands unwillingly, joining Namjoon at the edge of the bed.

- Namjoon pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, the movement so sudden that it makes you giggle. You’re a little fucked out, but it only makes your hybrids endeared. You close your eyes as Namjoon manhandles you into place, sighing out a “fuck” as he sees you below him. god- Namjoon loves you so much and you can feel it in every touch.

- He hitches your legs up and asks you to hold them, hands gripping underneath your knees. Keeping you bare for all of them. Jimin’s mouth waters when he sees your wet and messy cunt, a little bit of Namjoon’s cum dripping out of your entrance.

- Fuck just getting his mouth on Yoongi; Jimin wants to get his mouth on all of you. Huh- maybe he has some sort of oral fixation. Jimin is so caught up in imagining it he barely processes Namjoon stepping away, tugging jimin in close and positioning himself behind the other dog hybrid, Namjoon’s knot and wet cock presses up against Jimin’s ass as Namjoon uses his hands to guide jimin into your heat.

- Jimin is so thick. So big compared to your entrance, the stretch doesn't burn after Namjoon but you do feel full- so deliciously full that it makes you gasp and grip jimin's shoulder, letting your leg fall against his hip.

- You're so wet and warm; Jimin has to slow down immediately. whining loud in the quiet room. “Alpha- I can’t-” namjoon's hand forms a vice around the base of his cock, keeping him from cumming. “You can- and you will Jimin” Weather it’s your wetness or Namjoon’s cum that makes the slide inside of you so slick. He can only thrust forward so far before his stomach makes contact with your baby bump, and the slide, the simple push of your hips against his makes him feel tingly all over.

- “Fuck you feel so good,” Jimin pants out, and you smile, reaching forward to brush his hair out of his face and over his ears, sending a shock of pleasure all the way down to his tail. Maybe it’s because he’s been wound up so much, or because you’re still tightening with the last thrum of your orgasm that makes Jimin come so easily.

- He’s only been trusting inside of you for a few minutes before he feels his knot start to swell, pulsating against namjoons fingers and ready to spill inside. namjoon lets him go and Jimin can barely keep himself from getting rough with you. though he won’t- would never dream of hurting you. It feels nice to be filled by him, and you feel yourself brought to the edge again by his gentleness- he doesn’t have to thrust quickly for it to feel good- just being this close- as close as you two can get to each other is enough.

- It’s not Jimin’s first time having sex. But for all intents and purposes. You’re the only ones it matters for. He sends a panicked look in Namjoon’s direction, unsure if he’ll be able to hold off. His hands shaking where they sit, entwined with yours. Body crouched as close as he can to you. Through the entirety of it- Namjoon has been stroking up and down his back, and he grips his hips now- guiding him through each thrust to make them less sloppy. “Alpha- alpha please-“

- “You can cum Jimin, make sure you knot her.” At his alphas command Jimin cums with a shout. Namjoon pressed to his back and Yoongi hissing over his shoulder. Watching every thrust with baited breath. namjoon pushes jimin’s hips inside at just the right moment and you twitch as he knots you. feeling him swell inside you more than should be possible entrance pulsating in time with his twitches. jimin cumming into you with squirts and squirts of warmth as you milk his knot.

- You squirt weakly- and it drips down around his cock and makes it even wetter if that’s even possible, no doubt leaving a puddle against your bed. you hold jimin close and he wants to collapse against you but doesn't because of namjoon holding him around the middle, guiding you to safely sit to the side, giving your little baby bump a little loving rub. “Gotta keep the bun safe minnie” namjoon chides. “Sorry hyung just- so good” Jimin slurs. eyes still rolling back in his head as he just keeps Cumming.

- “Can I call you good boy now?” you tease, and jimin whines again predictably as both namjoon and yoongi nodd. Jimin’s knot does not stay inflated as long as namjoon’s does. starting to shrink after a few minutes once he stops cumming really. though the occasional spasm of your walls around him has him tensing again.

- When its gone down fully he makes to pull out but namjoon catches his hips again, and tells him to wait. A shiver goes down his spine as yoongi walks over to watch. your leg flopping to the side, open so that he can see, though you grumble and cover your flaming face. it might be a little embarrassing- but it’s also really fucking hot- the way they like to see how much they’ve wrecked you- claimed you in a way they only could.

- jimin doesn't understand until he sees namjoon and yoongi’s ravenous expressions, the way they lick their lips. it’s only then that namjoon carefully guides jimin to pull out.

- the rush of cum is immediate, forced out of your entrance by your lingering orgasam makeing you clench and force their cum out of you. there's so much of it, dripping down your thigh thick and viscous and so so messy.

- jimin is so overwhelmed, as his cock keeps dripping. he flops back onto the bed after a second, close enough to you to be wrapped in your arms, both of you huffing with labored breathes, Namjoon gripping hard around his waist and guiding him into the comfort of the bed and your arms. Hands splayed wide on Jimin’s trembling stomach. Pinching at Jimin’s knot for a moment. And the whole room spins.

- Jimin is so pretty when he arches his back to try and get away from the over stimulation, especially when your hand joints namjoons and you both squeeze- head thrown back in ecstasy, his plush lips parted with his pants. “Stop fuck- too much” your hands are off of him the second he says it. Jimin’s eyes are closed, as you lean in and kiss at his neck. “Sorry puppy” he hears the older alpha chime- Jimin whines, his whole body turned to jelly.

- You’re barely sighing and settling back into the sheets, head tilted to get a sloppy fucked out kiss from Namjoon. Yoongi lingers. And you look up at him expectantly. His cock is still hard and curving against his stomach.Somewhere between jimin and Namjoon in thickness and length but ribbed with veins that stick out like the ones on the back of his hands.

- You think he’s going to mount you too (your deepest darkest fantasy’s hope that he might. You have to admit that you like the idea of one of them going one after another, Cumming in you, making you feel full and well fucked. You’re certain that one day- if they still want this- if they want to keep doing this with you. You’ll have that, each of them knotting you and filling you up- breeding you and making sure they knock you up again. human hybrid pregnancies are so rare they’re practically non-existent, but you know if there where any that would manage it it would be these three.)

- jimin’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his skull when he smells yoongi closer, nostrils flaring, “gotta help us breed our omega yoongi” he slurs. clutching posessively at you. The words so unexpected but so right. Namjoon can’t take his eyes off Yoongi. While in his arms. jimin tries not to dose- thoroughly spent.

- It’s the kind of language that Namjoon’s used with you before- calling you their omega- though you’re human you know what it means. To be theirs, taken care of and knocked up and fucked out. You and Namjoon- for the amount you bicker like an old married couple. Also communicate a lot,

- Though talk of your fantasies has mostly been pillow talk. Both of you spoke of wanting this before it happened and of your feelings for the others too. Namjoon had squealed almost as much as you had when you’d told him of jimin’s confession.

- You’d done your best to learn all you could about hybrids. So it never struck you as strange when Namjoon had come to you and confessed that Yoongi would one day be apart of his pack. Namjoon’s alpha instincts choosing Yoongi- spreading protectively over the snake hybrid. Namjoon hadn’t had much control over who was accepted into his pack- much in the same way that you have never have control over who you fall in love with.

- And maybe it was through you- that Namjoon and Yoongi eventually found a way to connect beyond the touches. Because Yoongi looks at the utter mess of your entrance, splattered with jimin and Namjoon cum and growls. His hands barely brushing your skin as he guides you to spread your legs and bare yourself to him. You dont understand what obsession they have with looking at your cunt- but there has to be something.

- Namjoon ever insatiable even snakes his hand around to spread you out for Yoongi. Teasing at your outer lips before his thumb presses against your clit- making your legs tremble. His touches so slow and firm, enough to make you absolutely desperate for another orgasm.

- Yoongi won’t touch you, he won’t make you cum- you know that enough by now because as much as Yoongi loves the intimacy you have it’s still too much for him. But one of his fangs hangs out over his lip when Namjoon starts to finger you. Rubbing their cum into your clit. And like you could read his mind, Yoongi starts up his stroking above you.

- He never breaks eye contact with you. Beside you, Jimin shifts to watch. His sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. “I’m not going to stop until you’re squirting,”

- “Why do you always want to- ah- make me messy?” you tease Namjoon- bickering with him even now. “Who knows maybe dirt is just my kink.”

- Jimin snorts, “You hate gardening Namjoon-“ you laugh, but you’re also squirming in overstimulation, as Namjoon’s thumb teases and teases until you’re trembling, and you want to gasp say that you can’t possibly cum again- but a look over your shoulder tells you that Namjoon knows you can. Yoongi’s eyes lock with yours when you look back, and you see the sweat on his temple, Namjoon’s hand speeding up when his does.

- Cumming after a few minutes with a gush that makes your cheeks flame. Hips jerking up and off the bed as you squirt- pussy clenching so hard that it forces their cum out to drip. Timed with you again- the intimacy of it all- of Cumming together, Yoongi’s cum spurting all over your stomach before he directs it to your clit. Mixing with the other hybrids cum.

- You’re thoroughly spent, legs falling open with no shame to hide you from the painful friction that would surely arise if anything touched your clit right now. Reaching out for arms that gladly take you. Ready to have them close.

- Jimin sits up, brain finally a little clearer as the pheromones in the room start to dissipate, leaning forward to hasten a lick Over your entrance tasting all of you intermingled makes his tail wag. But you’re a little too sensitive even for that- and you pull Jimin away before he can give a second lick, and he curls up close to you in the next second, face buried in your shoulder.

- He’s just as fucked out at you are, wrung out and hung to dry by all of this intimacy and pleasure making his body feel satisfied and settled. Unwilling to move from this bed. speaking only through whines and grumbles. Practically non verbal- and brought low into his hybrid headspace. Jimin and Namjoon don’t mind the mess on you. To them- it just smells like pack and home.

- He’s dimly aware of Yoongi going to the bathroom to get a rag for you- because as much as you love the feeling of all of their cum filling you up you really don’t want to have to change your sheets and luckily for you- most of the mess of your lovemaking has been well contained On you skin and your well placed blanket that can easily be exchanged for a fresh one.

- Namjoon softly turns jimin over onto his stomach, Jimin’s red cock pressed uncomfortably to the bed as they wipe down the release on Jimin’s back too. (Had Namjoon cum there? rutting in-between Jimin’s ass cheeks as he’d been inside you? and had Jimin been too lost in the throws of his passion to realize?)

- “I love you Yoongi, thank you for letting us do this, thank you for being apart of this.” he hears you say, and it makes Jimin’s tail wag.

- He stays awake long enough to hear Namjoon switch the fan on and to feel Namjoon swallow both you and Jimin in his arms. He hears them quietly conversing. “Are you sure you don’t want to come closer?” Yoongi must indicate one way or another. Because Namjoon quietly settles.

- The bed shifts, and he gathers Yoongi must have curled up several inches to the left of him. jimin squirms- wishing he’d come closer. but then he feels the slow trail of Yoongi’s fingers just along his spine and smiles into your hair.

- He wants to reach out, to pull him closer- but Jimin won’t know that touch is so tenuous for him. He knows him not partaking tonight isn’t anything to do with not loving you three. Jimin will respect Yoongi’s boundaries for as long as it takes for Yoongi to not feel a bit of the aching hesitation he suffers through when it comes to loving his pack. His eyes closed, he feels fingers trail along the edge of his hairline, ears flicking and nose twitching, Jimin lets out a happy little puppy grumble.

- “Love you” he finds himself whispering against your hair, “love you all so much” his words are slurry and not all there. And he’s rewarded with Namjoon muttering it back, reaching out to run a hand gently along his cheeks. A large hand knots in his hair, not rubbing through and just gripping, and jimin knows its Yoongi hand.

- Yoongi stays awake that night until all of you are asleep, wishing that for once- he felt the pull of Namjoon’s alphaness the same way Jimin did. The younger certainly seemed hazy; all of the tension in his body giving way with Namjoon’s will exert itself over him. But he’s content to see them the way they are now, all soft and vulnerable. Namjoon and Yoongi bookending the both of you curled together in the middle. So peaceful. Yoongi hopes he can make the two of you feel as safe as Namjoon makes you feel.

- Yoongi reaches out to touch your face, thumb drifting a hair's breadth from your lips, he knows he could never hurt you- never even dream of it. His mistress- owner- this mission was doomed from the start. He was yours- for all intents and purposes of the words. Yoongi didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Other than your bed at that moment.

- And when he closes his eyes He imagines all the ways that he would touch you if he could. How he would have touched you tonight if he’d just allowed himself too. Maybe in the future- maybe in a few days when he gets used to this togetherness he’ll get to be close to you in the way he so desperately wants. Tonight was so nice, and with you smelling like all three of them. Yoongi feels like he’s apart of this- in a way that he hasn’t felt before.

- it’s not only touches he wants- it’s the love you share too. All of the words he would whisper low in your ears where he able. He’d find out your favorite foods and cook them every day, find out everything you like- badger you even. So that he could learn your favorite things and hopefully earn the right of being one of your favorite things too.

- He imagines the three of you holding him close in the winter and giving him space in the spring when his skin gets all sheady and itchy. Maybe you’d even make him one of those oatmeal baths that you’d started to favor towards the end of your pregnancy to help ease the shedding process. he imagines Jimin prodding at his scales and counting them. Namjoon kissing the ones behind his ear.

- Yoongi thinks of the future you have with namjoon and jimin and thinks about you and your child. Yoongi imagines for a second even though the image hurts; what it would be like to see them. He feels his heart ache so viscerally it’s too much- he can’t think about that.

- He can't think about what he can’t have. In the next few days he’s going to do his best to love you three and protect you and then that will be that. that's all yoongi gets. Not a life with you or a family with you. And then he opens his eyes, swallowing. And thinks that even if he doesn’t get to see all of that- at least- at the very least, he can savor every moment like it might be the last.

- And it is the last moment, Five.

- Four. He leaves the room to get a glass of water. If he’d known, maybe he would have looked back when he crossed over the threshold of your bedroom door. The clock ticking down to zero in an instant like a timer left unwatched.

- Three. If he’d known, maybe he would have leaned over Jimin’s body to kiss your lips- just to kiss you once. Given Namjoon a kiss too. Touched Jimin's face to say ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the love you want, but they’ll give it to you in my absence,”

- Two. On his ways down the stairs, the house is quiet and so familiar. The only home he’s ever had, the only place he’s ever wanted to stay forever.

- One. He’s just on the landing, when he sees the car out-front, black with its lights off, but if he listens he can still hear it running, as quiet as a mountain lions purr. Then He hears a quiet knock at the door. And Yoongi pauses on the steps.

- The clock stops at zero.

- The cherry of her lit cigarette is the only thing that glimmers in the moonlight with any color. That and the red tip of her tongue as she rolls it over her teeth. Yoongi freezes in fear the second he sees his owner, standing with her arm against the doorframe.

- A wash of cigarette smoke tainting the scents of all of you on him. He sees her farce, her thinly veiled superiority, and the tenseness in her body. Three men behind her. it’s all a lie, she’s angry and she’s afraid and she’s a devil in human skin.

- “Times up Yoongi.” One moment- he just needs one more moment. Holds up her finger and for once, she listens. Taps her foot impatiently.

- The house is quiet, upstairs you sleep on, unaware of what happens below.

- The next morning you wake up to Jimin and Namjoon curled up close. Their soft breathes intermingling in the golden light of morning. Jimin nosing underneath your chin. You cuddle close for a moment letting the safety of sleep melt away, before you sigh and get up to get dressed. The heats broken over the night, and you wrap your fluffy robe around your shoulders just to feel a little cozy. You don’t know why you feel so restless, but it’s like your bones are cold.

- Things are too quiet, the hum of Yoongi’s air conditioners aren’t running, aren’t filling the top floor of your house with their white noise hum. And you realize something’s wrong the second you pause by his door. Usually, his air conditioners run through the night, and leave the space under his door and immediately outside in the hall cooler to the touch, but a look inside after a nock reveals his room is empty, his straw hat is missing from its hook too. You’d assumed he’d left after last night to sleep in his own room because yours was too warm.

- You spill out onto the first floor of your house looking for him, searching for him by the coffee maker or on the couch watching the morning news, but a small commotion, terse hush words interrupt your train of thought.

- The cat hybrids are crowded around something on the table. Breakfast barely even started. One of them turns when they see you in the doorway and if any of them notice something different about your scent- probably drenched with both all of your hybrids. None of them say anything. If you had to guess- you’d say that whatevers wrong is much more pressing than any hybrid faux pas.

- “We were going to wake you” one of them says, biting her lower lip, her torn ear twitching. “We didn’t think you’d want us to move it until you saw.”

- The crowd parts, and you pull up to the side of the prep table. a blanket is folded on the table- it’s Yoongi’s- the heated one. The one that he needs to sleep if he’s going to not wake up shaky and too cold in the middle of the night. His sun hat- the one he always wears sitting on top of it, a little note sitting there too tucked into the leather band.

- The simple note- two words that aren’t enough to soothe the sudden panic in your veins. “I’m sorry” written in his neat scrawl. The words he wants to say but can’t- had to erase and then scribble over so you can’t read them. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, I would if I could, and I want too so bad. it’s not your fault that i had to go.”

- But there are just those two. I’m sorry. Not enough and almost visceral in the way that they shock the air out of your lungs. You gasp- almost falling with the way it hits you. You wish it wasn’t true, but deep down you know what it means.

- Yoongi is gone.

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Kofi

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jincherie · 4 years ago

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four’s company | rapline [m]

✘ — pairing: boxer!rapline x male!reader ✘ — genre: smut!, boxer au, poly au ✘ — wc: 6.4k ✘ — rating: 18+ ✘ — warnings: minor injuries (occupational hazard kind), smut: mxm, light (accidental) voyeurism, light hand kink, baby boy reader, sub/bottom reader, dom/top members, foursome, anal sex, protected sex (don’t forget to wrap ‘em, lads and ladies!), fellatio ✘ — notes: part of a fic exchange within the ghostie network, i’m sorry it’s late!!!!! please accept my humblest apologies!!! @bangtanloverboys here you go!! i hope it’s not too shitty!!!

If accidentally walking in on your three crushes in a heated moment, not once, not twice, but thrice isn’t enough to capture their attention, then you don’t know what is. You’re about to find out that you’ve had their attention for a while, though.

— posted; 02.01.2021 || masterlist

For what is far from the first time tonight, you feel the weight of a certain gaze.

Well, to be more specific, it hasn’t just been one gaze you’ve felt on you tonight. More like… three.

You know who they belong to, unfortunately. It’s the same three people that you found in an… interesting situation earlier. On that was, no doubt, not meant for outside eyes.

Well, you say that, but you feel like that’s just because you, yourself, are mortified. To be honest, the three boxers you found locking lips and making out in the locker room didn’t seem to be all that ashamed about it.

In fact, when they caught you in the motion of fleeing, they’d had the audacity to grin about it!

Utterly humiliating. You haven’t been able to bring your gaze anywhere near them all day. To make matters worse, you couldn’t even flee to the safety of your home or anywhere similar, because there is a match tonight and you’re needed as a qualified first aid officer.

Which brings you to the current predicament; sitting ringside and attempting to avoid the gazes of the three boxers seated on the side adjacent. Try as you might, it’s actually a struggle to keep your eyes on the current match. It’s a rookie night, and you feel extra bad since one of the people in the ring is actually a close friend.

Though, perhaps you should demote Jungkook from ‘close friend’ status considering he is the reason you started working here and subsequently, had the opportunity to stumble upon a certain scenario this morning. Were it not for him and his stupid, pleading puppy eyes, you wouldn’t have a particular embarrassing image burned into the back of your eyelids.

You know that despite his rookie status, Jungkook is quite a naturally talented boxer. Perhaps that is part of the reason that your brain thinks it’s okay to let your eyes stray from the match instead of watching attentively as you’re expected to. The subconscious certainty that Jungkook can handle himself seems to be your undoing, because in a moment of inattentiveness your eyes manage to reach the area you’d been trying so hard for them to avoid.

As you’d both feared and expected, they are in fact already looking at you. Well, one of the three. It is the piercing gaze of the club's current lightweight champion, Min Yoongi, that bores a hole into you right now. The two accomplices to his side aren't joining him in drilling their eyes into you across the room for now, instead leaning into each other as though they're whispering amongst themselves.

There's something about Yoongi's eyes, dark and piercing, that seem to always root you in place no matter where you are. His expression, as it usually tends to be, is unreadable. It's a certain kind of neutrality that graces his features, thin enough that you can tell there is something behind it but too opaque for you to be able to discern exactly what.

You don't even realise you're trapped in his gaze until the sounding of the bell snaps you out of the spell that seemed to be cast over you. Your head whips back around and you see the referee signalling the end of the bout, and just beyond him Jungkook is standing slightly bent over as he offers a hand to his opponent on the canvas. To your alarm, it is only now that you notice the blood dribbling down the man’s face. The reasonable crowd that has gathered is still cheering (Jungkook was quick to rise as one of the fan favourites) and it’s a wonder you can hear the referee’s call above the ruckus.

“Medic!”

That’s your cue.

x – x – x

“You look kind of on edge, man. Are you alright?”

You’re almost too busy staring into your coffee in a borderline dissociative state to hear Jungkook as he calls for your attention. It has to be about the thirteenth time in the past half hour, but you can’t find the energy to be ashamed about it. Mostly because all of your shame and embarrassment are focused on other areas right now.

It had happened again.

Is it just your luck? You don’t know whether to dub it as rotten luck, because you feel it would be a bit of an insult to the boxers you’d once more found in a suggestive situation. But considering it good luck feels kind of sleazy, because although you’re embarrassed as hell, all things considered what you walked in on wasn’t a bad view—

No, that thought is stopping there. Any further and you’ll only incriminate yourself and you’ll have to dose yourself with another fresh shot of shame.

Realising that you still haven’t answered the concerned-looking boy sprawled in the chair to your side, you offer him a non-committal grunt. It’s the best you can do while you take another moment to form actual coherent thought.

“I’ve never been better,” you say, and immediately Jungkook lets loose an abrupt snort.

“You look like shit, so don’t bother trying to lie. Are you having trouble sleeping again or something?”

You survey him for a moment, touched that he remembers the insomnia that had ailed you for a few months a while back. “Actually, I’ve been sleeping pretty good the past few months.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, making you squint at him in question. “Oh, I’ll bet you have, considering the things you were saying in your sleep last time I stayed over.”

You simply look at him, wondering whether he’s going to be an ass and continue. You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“You were all like, ‘nngh, Namjoon,’ and ‘oh, Yoongi’, and then you said something about Hoseok too but I can’t quite remember, probably because it was so x-rated that my poor baby brain banished it from my memory—”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off, gripping the plastic spoon that came with your drink painfully tight. “Shut up.”

This is most definitely not the conversation to be having in the café barely a block away from the boxing gym where the two of you frequent, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to get the hint. Actually, you’re pretty sure he got the hint and he just doesn’t care enough to heed it.

“You really ought to do something about that crush of yours, bro. There’s three of them, so there’s three times the misery if you sit on your ass instead of—”

“Jungkook,” you attempt to warn him again, glaring slightly this time. You’ve scooped some of the whipped cream off of his plate of pancakes and hold the tip of the spoon back, threatening to fling it at him should he keep talking.

“—doing something, you know? I’ve seen them practically undress you with their eyes enough times by now that I could fill out a diary with all the incidents I’ve witnessed. Plus, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you? I really don’t think you have much to lose, especially with an ass like yours—well, it’s nothing like the cake I’m serving, but still, it deserves some praise—ACK!”

Ah, so he has chosen death.

You discard the now-empty spoon onto a napkin, taking a long sip of your drink. It seems Jungkook has engaged his ape brain more today than usual as instead of wiping the cream off his face like any normal human would, he’s attempting to reach it with his tongue. His chances aren’t good, to be honest; though you reckon your mutual friend Jimin would be able to get it from that distance. Dude has a tongue like a lizard.

“You have Seven Days,” you tell him, struggling not to let a smile through as the amateur boxer whines, unable to reach the cream.

“You have seven days,” he grumbles sulkily, reaching with a begrudging hand for a napkin. “Do something or I’ll expose your ass.”

You roll your eyes, ninety-nine percent sure that he’s kidding.

…

That other one percent worries you a bit though.

x – x – x

You take back what you decided earlier— something is definitely wrong with your luck.

“And how did you hurt your knee again?”

“I tripped on the stairs.”

Jung Hoseok, the club’s current star welterweight boxer, sits before you in your little medical office. There aren’t any matches on today, but you’re on shift because the club members are doing some of the more rigorous training; there is an important few matches coming up for a few members, and they all want to be as prepared as possible. As tends to be the occupational hazard, training can often lead to injuries that need to be immediately attended to.

You can’t say, though, that this is the type you were expecting when you rocked up today.

Hoseok is beaming at you, all sincerity and sparkles. There’s a slight bit of dark regrowth in his hair that catches your eye as you survey him, the crimson ends sticking to his forehead lightly from sweat. He looks every bit earnest and honest as he sits in front of you, but you can’t help but suspect him just slightly.

Because you’re not sure any of the club members have ever made their way to your office for a graze that wouldn’t even phase a kindergartener.

“Well,” you say, trying to ignore what Jungkook had said barely a day or two ago that floats back into your head now. “The good news is, it’s not fatal.”

Hoseok lets out a great, dramatic huff in relief. “Oh, thank god. I was so scared this might have been the end.”

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you?’

Is that what this is? An excuse to see you? A look spared for the man before you leads you to conclude: probably not. He’s a little too radiant to be seeking out lil’ ol’ you.

“Not this time,” you say, rummaging through your small box of mismatched bandages. Finding what you’re looking for, you turn back around and begin preparing it to place it on Hoseok’s knee. “You live to see another day.”

Hoseok shifts like he’s about to say something in response, but cuts himself off with a surprised laugh when he sees the band-aid you put on him. “Wh—you have Minions band-aids?!”

“I reserve them for special patients,” you say before you can stop yourself, promptly clamping your mouth shut a little too late. Your cheeks… you just hope the heat gathering there isn’t obvious.

Something shifts in Hoseok’s gaze as he surveys you for a moment, before hopping from the bed, testing his knee out like he’d sprained it instead of scratching it. The look is gone before you can fully decipher it and he’s back to grinning brightly once more.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll have to come back often. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.” Hoseok’s smile adopts a slightly cheeky edge as he makes his way to the door, lifting two fingers to his temple in a lazy salute. “See you later, doc!”

Then he’s gone before you can return the farewell, door closing definitively behind him and leaving the room in silence.

Are you going crazy, or did Hoseok— one of the three boxers you’ve happened to walk in on twice now—just return your light flirting?

… God, you hope it wasn’t because of the minion band-aid.

x – x – x

You wish that visit had been an isolated incident, but you had a repeat of it at least twice a week. Each time Hoseok would rock up grinning at your door with some other minor injury, all but demanding a minion band-aid for his troubles. You gave it to him, of course, but you still hope he doesn’t remember you as the minion band-aids guy.

Surprisingly enough, it isn’t only Hoseok that has been cropping up more often in your day-to-day. You’ve had a few surprise encounters with Yoongi, who lately has taken to giving you a sly, unreadable look before turning away, leaving you in your own confusion. Sometimes you’ll get carried away watching him or one of the other boxers practice, and before you know it he has caught you staring red-handed and you’re forced to flee the room to escape the smug, intrigued look that slips into his eyes.

It’s after such an occasion that you find yourself in the main locker room, attempting to multitask by looking for a box of first aid supplies hidden in the top shelves and giving your face a chance to cool down. It’s taken you so long to even find the damn box that your embarrassment has all but evaporated by now. By the time your eyes lock onto the scuffed white box peeking over the edge of the highest shelf in the corner of the room, you’re more than ready to snatch it down and escape back to the comfort of your dingy little office.

Of course, it couldn’t ever be so easy for you. Not given your recent string of poor luck.

You don’t consider your height to be remarkably anything, and normally you don’t have that much trouble reaching the cookie jar on the top shelf in your apartment but for some reason the shelves in this building are built to cater to giants, and try as you might you simply cannot reach. You’re literally about to abandon the last of your dignity and attempt jumping for it, when there is a light scuff on the floor from behind you and then a firm warmth pressing into your back.

In all honesty, your brain short-circuits. For a second you think you might have even blacked out, because it takes at least three seconds for you to realise what is happening, and by that time the figure has already retreated back from your form.

Somewhat dazed, you turn around to see one Kim Namjoon, the clubs leading middleweight champion and the third and final member of those racy scenarios you happened to walk in on oh-so long ago. In his hands is the box you’d been struggling so much to reach, and on his face is a look that somehow blends sheepishness and amusement into one attractive cocktail on his features.

“Here you go,” he says, and for a shamefully long moment all you can do is stand and soak in the lovely timbre of his voice. By the time you snap out of it, a small smile has begun to curl on his lips. You pointedly avoid looking at the dimples that are beginning to show as a result.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you say, trying to make it as natural as possible as you reach and take the box from his hold. “Whoever put it up there seems to have a vendetta against me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he says, and there’s suddenly something a little secretive about the way he’s smiling. It makes you suspicious, and once more the words Jungkook prattled into your ear a week or so ago come rattling back into your brain.

Is this something similar to what Hoseok had done? Did Namjoon put the box on a higher shelf?

“Are you calling me short?” For some reason, that’s what comes out of your mouth. There is a slight disconnect from what you said and what Namjoon had said previously, but he seems to make the connection. He tilts his head back and a rich laugh tumbles forth. It sounds nicer than you wish to admit to yourself.

“Never,” he finally answers, grinning. “Though, feel free to come get me next time you lose against a shelf.”

Your mouth drops open in affront, but he makes a departure too quick for you to respond. His laughter echoes down the halls and you’re left reeling in your spot.

This isn’t what you expected to happen after walking in on a few intimate situations. In fact, this is quite the opposite.

What is happening?

x – x – x

As the weeks go by, there are several big nights and several big matches. Hoseok and Yoongi, among a few others from the gym, emerge victorious. At this point you’re not too ashamed to say that you spent the entirety of their matches watching the way their muscles rippled as they dodged, swung and wove around the ring. If the last shred of dignity still clinging to you had disappeared, then you probably would have drooled like a dog.

The nights tend to go by weight classes, and the next upcoming night is to showcase the middleweight boxers. While Jungkook classifies for the class, as one of the newer recruits he isn’t the first choice for the match—much to his dismay.

It is approximately a week before this big match, in which Namjoon, one of the three men who live in your head rent-free these days, is participating, that you’re woken from your sleep and called into the gym.

It’s your night off, actually, so for you to be called in there must have been a pretty serious injury. You’re proven right when you enter the building and walk into the main room.

Before you can even assess the scene, Yoongi spots you and darts on over. He has a look on his face that you don’t think he’s ever sported before, and it fills you with a feeling of dread. It seems an appropriate feeling, considering what you see when you advance further into the room, towed by the frantic blonde who’d fetched you.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened?!” You dart forward, Yoongi’s grip slipping from your wrist as you move out of his reach.

Namjoon is seated on the floor in a squat, cradling his left hand to his chest. A grimace twists his features, eyes glistening but face clear of tears.

To your complete and utter surprise, the familiar tenor of Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears. You didn’t know he had stayed behind to practice tonight.

“We were leaving after practicing a bit later than normal, and some assholes drove past and picked a fight. I think—I think they were members from one of the rival clubs on the other side of the city but it was kind of dark and I didn’t get a good look.”

Your brows shoot up—that’s risky behaviour on their part, if it was actually members of a rival club that did this. Judges of this particular tournament don’t look kindly on foul play.

It would make sense if it’s true, though; a lot of local clubs tend to have boxers in the middleweight range, and Namjoon has emerged from enough matches victorious that he’s actually quite a threat.

“Let me see,” you say, holding your hands out to Namjoon for him to rest his injured one in your hold. “Jungkook, go get the big tin box with the red cross from my office. Make sure it’s the one with antiseptic and bandages.”

You don’t even need to check he’s listened, because you can hear the frantic, obedient pattering of his feet fading away in the distance as you unwrap the blood-drenched towel from the hand in your hold. Namjoon’s busted up limb takes all of your attention the second you lay eyes on it properly, your stomach filling with an unpleasant, nameless cocktail of sensations.

“Holy shit,” you say, unable to contain your wince. “Tell me you didn’t get this from fighting them bare-knuckle.”

Namjoon has enough capacity for humour right now that he lets out a little huff. Yoongi fills you in before Namjoon has a chance.

“No, though I almost did.” His expression is dark, the heat of his anger reaching you even when it’s not directed your way. “They were probably drinking before coming here, since they had a few bottles they threw into the mix.”

That explains the gashes you’re seeing on Namjoon’s palm— it seems he caught one of the bottles, though you’re not sure whether it was already broken or whether it broke on impact. Thankfully, from what you can see, the gashes and lacerations aren’t too deep and shouldn’t cause lasting damage, but they’ll definitely take a while to heal, and one or two of them look like they will need stitches.

“Alright,” you begin, sighing softly. “I’ll do what I can to fix this up for now, but you’re going to have to go to the ER, because some of these will need stitches…”

You look up, reading the expressions of everyone in attendance and knowing that they have all reached the same conclusion regarding Namjoon’s immediate fate as a boxer.

“Sorry, Namjoon,” you start, watching his features crumble ever so slightly into a look of resignation. “This isn’t going to heal in time for next week, and you definitely won’t be able to train for a while.”

It’s just as you announce that, that Jungkook returns with your box of first-aid goodies. Hoseok, who has remained surprisingly silent the whole time this conversation has gone on, takes the box from his hold and delivers it next to you. Surprising all of you, Namjoon is quick to look up and pin Jungkook with a grin.

“Well, since I can’t participate—how do you feel about making your Big Boy Boxing Debut, Jungkookie?”

Your friend is rooted to the spot in shock for a solid few moments, before he snaps out of it and an excited if slightly nervous expression filters onto his face.

“I will defend your honour, Namjoon!” he declares, saluting stupidly. “Count on me!”

Cheesy of him, but you can’t help the smile that tugs your lips. You just hope it’s not too late-notice for him, and that Namjoon’s injuries really aren’t that serious, as you surmise.

x – x – x

The week passes quicker than you anticipate, and before you know it, it’s the night of the big match—Jungkook’s first big match, that is. Namjoon had done his best over the days to coach Jungkook on the particular fighting styles of the opponents he normally faces, and to everyone’s pleasant surprise, Jungkook has picked it all up with ease.

You’re more surprised to say that you’re not even that nervous, as you sit waiting for the match to begin. Jungkook stands in one corner, his opponent from one of the more renowned rival gyms in the other. You prepare to be on standby in case either boxer is injured enough to need aid, but cross your fingers that if anything at least Jungkook will be alright.

In the blink of an eye, the match begins and the first bout kicks off. Jungkook’s opponent is slightly stockier, likely pushing the upper limits of the weight class, and is the first to make an offensive move. The familiar sound of cushioned gloves making impact rings in the air and you find yourself tensing in your seat as you watch the two interchange blows.

It’s pretty much neck-and-neck for a majority of the bouts. Some of them go quick, and others seem to consist of the longest three minutes of your life. Still, the match goes on, and the night is filled with the siren song of the crowd and the ring of the bell.

After a night of close-call bouts and baited breath, Jungkook finally emerges victorious.

Ever the fan favourite, the crowd that has amassed erupt into cheers as the referee declares the end of the final bout and Jungkook is held up as the victor. With the match decided, the club members that had been watching ringside burst up and swarm around the young boxer who brought pride to the gym on his very first big match. The three boxers that usually occupy your thoughts wriggle their way up there too, and it’s Hoseok’s bright tone that pierces the ruckus of the crowd.

“Drinks at ours to celebrate our victor, Jungkookie!” he caws, rubbing Jungkook on the back in something akin to pride. “Members of King Hit Gym, we better see you all there!”

You mightn’t be a technical member, but the way you suddenly feel three sets of eyes on you tells you that you’re still more than invited.

x – x – x

It’s three hours since the end of the match, and you’re more than a little tipsy.

You can safely say that you haven’t ever been to the house where Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi live, but you’re nothing short of impressed. It’s a three-storey townhouse, with three rooms— presumably one for each of them, though from what you’d glimpsed on the way to the bathroom earlier only one of them appears regularly lived in.

It didn’t take you long to ponder exactly why, considering the things you’ve accidentally witnessed in the past month.

Most of your time tonight was spent celebrating with Jungkook as he made the rounds and received congratulations from the rest of the club members. Music thrums through the building, bass vibrating pleasantly through your chest every time you pass the expensive speakers in the living room.

You’ve paced yourself well, all things considered. All you had to do to avoid an early night ending in blackout drunkenness was steer clear of Jungkook whenever he made his way by the kitchen to refill— he’d learnt his mixing skills from Jimin, a verified alcoholic back in the day who spent his time in university trying to throw together his own signature cocktail with the same alcohol percentage as absinthe.

So you’re relatively proud of yourself to only be a little over tipsy at this point in the night. You can’t really say the same for the rest of the club members, though— even Jungkook has reached a point where he is stumbling and giggling. Which, of course, led to the event that splattered drink all over your shirt.

You’re wandering up the stairs now, mind occupied with everything but what you’re doing as you absentmindedly seek the bathroom to clean your shirt. You haven’t seen any of the homeowners in a while, actually, which is kind of disappointing because you’re really longing for some eye candy right about now. They disappeared about ten minutes ago, and you figured it was just to socialise or maybe grab more snacks but you haven’t paid it much thought since then, and now you’re realising they hadn’t returned to the party yet.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you pause for a moment to try and recall which room is the bathroom. There’s two of them, you remember being told, one ensuite and a main bathroom. There was also a third one on the first floor, but that was too far for you to attempt reaching it. Unable to remember which door is which, you simply decide to wing it and march on forward towards the first door to enter your line of sight. You’re pretty stable, but your head is kind of fuzzy, so your hand hovers by the wall as you walk just in case you stumble.

Upon reaching the door in question, it takes you about a second and a half to realise the room you have reached is not the one you want, and another second for the shock to reach you.

Because, for the third time in a month, you have walked in on something you shouldn’t have.

Except this time, you can’t seem to pull yourself away as fast as you should.

It’s Hoseok and Namjoon tangled before you this time, in a position much more intimate than the last you’d seen. Their lips are locked, Hoseok straddling one of Namjoon’s thighs with one hand tangled in inky locks and the other rubbing over his crotch, where a prominent bulge makes itself known even to your eyes. Just when you remember that you should really be on your way, their lips break apart and Namjoon’s head tilts back, a sinful, velvet moan climbing from his throat as Hoseok leans to pepper it with kisses. It’s mesmerising, and you forget you’re even there as you watch the red-haired man’s hand climb up Namjoon’s stomach and then slip beneath the waistband of his jeans.

You come back to yourself when you feel a familiar tightness in your own pants and a throb between your legs— of course, you’re hard. You’re too hazy-brained to even be ashamed of it right now. It does pierce through the fog, though, that you’re intruding on something you’re not meant to see. Like you’re trying to move limbs filled with lead, you start to drag your feet and turn around.

You barely get a step in before you’re face to face with someone strikingly familiar, and your heart drops in your chest before kicking back into motion at double speed.

“You always seem to enjoy watching, don’t you?” Yoongi’s question catches you off guard and puts you on the spot— before you can panic, though, his lips curl in a kittenish smile. “It’s alright, we already know you do, baby boy.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, stomach flipping giddily. Your eyes track it with surprising clarity as Yoongi’s hand— strong and sculpted and deliciously vascular, as you’d admired many times before— rises to caress your cheek, and he leans forward until his lips brush the sensitive skin of your earlobe.

“Why don’t you join us, this time?”

You find yourself nodding before you even realise it, but it’s definitely a decision you would make again any other day.

You feel Yoongi smile against your ear, and then he is pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and pulling back. That same strong hand winds around your wrist and you’re tugged into the room, the door shutting behind you. The two on the bed barely bat an eye at the arrival of their third lover and an extra figure, merely smiling dazedly at the two of you.

“Baby boy is finally gonna join us?” Hoseok asks, eyes lidded and dark to match the tousled look of his hair and clothes. His words are slightly slurred but the keenness to his gaze tells you he is still very much aware of everything he does.

Yoongi hums in confirmation, coming up behind you to wind his arms lazily around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Mhmm. Don’t stop on our account— why don’t you give him a bit of a show to start, hm?”

Hoseok needs no further prompting, a grin all you glimpse before he is diving back to crash his lips into Namjoon’s, hand moving inside his pants and eliciting a deep, throaty groan. It makes your own cock throb in need, and almost as though he reads your mind, Yoongi's voice sounds in your ear once more.

“You already hard, baby boy? Like what you see?”

Something about the husky quality of the boxer’s voice makes a shudder roll down your spine, a light whine slipping from your throat. Yoongi presses soft kisses to the skin of your neck as you watch the two on the bed undress each other between heated kisses.

“Want me to touch you, baby boy?”

As though possessed, your head begins nodding before you even think to act on the urge. Yoongi requires no further prompting; he begins to kiss and suckle along the column of your neck while his hands move— one creeps up beneath your shirt to flick a thumb over your nipple, and the other slips down, down, down beneath the waistband of your pants and boxers, until that hand you admire so much is slipping around your cock and squeezing just enough to make you gasp out a moan.

Pleasure and desire wind together to mix with the tipsy haze in your mind, and you’re more than happy to surrender yourself to the current situation. Slowly, you’re urged over to the bed, eyes still locked on the pair occupied there as Yoongi’s hand works magic on your length. You don’t even bother attempting to stem the gasps and moans tumbling forth because you know at this point it would probably be futile.

Hoseok has now stripped Namjoon entirely and is making his way down his body with his mouth, pressing a kiss against every inch of golden skin he can reach. Namjoon is quite generously endowed, and you can’t tear your eyes away as Hoseok finally reaches the apex of his thighs and begins to lavish attention to Namjoon’s flushed cock.

You can feel Yoongi grinding lightly against you as he strokes your own aching member, the two of you observing the show before you with rapt attention. At some point you’re rid of your shirt and the air feels cool against your flushed skin, your upper body leaning back against Yoongi contentedly. The noises spilling from Namjoon’s throat are downright sinful as Hoseok’s mouth sinks down on him with practiced ease.

It’s almost too much for you, really. Almost sensory overload. You’re urged ever so slowly to the bed, and as you sit on the plush mattress you happily oblige as Yoongi begins to undo and remove the jeans that are now uncomfortably tight. Your boxers follow soon after and then you’re joining the other two in their nudity. As though sensing the change in plans, Hoseok pulls off of Namjoon’s cock with a ‘pop’, licking his lips and ignoring the whine in protest that Namjoon lets out. “In a minute, bubs.”

Yoongi leans over to the bedside table to retrieve lube and something else you soon realise to be condoms as he tosses them on the bed between him and Hoseok.

“Are you alright with this?”

You turn at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, eyes meeting his own— though heady and full of desire, they’re also determined. You don’t doubt that if you say no, he will stop things here.

“Yes,” you confirm, and you watch as a smile pulls over Yoongi’s face.

“Excellent. Now, lean forward, baby boy. This might be a little cold.”

Without question, you allow him to shift and bend your body as needed, knees digging into the plush bedding. Tilting your head up, you manage to meet the eyes of Namjoon, who is in a similar position to yourself, just in time for you to gasp at the sudden cold sensation at your ass.

You’d think by now you would be used to the feeling of lube— you’re immediately distracted from that though at the sensation of Yoongi’s finger beginning to toy around your asshole. You allow yourself to relax as much as possible, turning your attention to Namjoon and Hoseok and simply enjoying the sensations Yoongi is eliciting.

Namjoon’s hand raises, cupping your cheek and dragging down ever so gently. Hoseok catches the movement and lets out a coo, eyes boring into your own.

“Wanna kiss him, baby boy? Go ahead, he’s good at it.”

You don’t need to be told twice, and neither does Namjoon. You find Hoseok definitely isn’t wrong as Namjoon’s lips meet your own, the kiss quickly turning heated as his mouth moves against your own. He swallows down your moans as Yoongi’s fingers begin to stretch you slowly, one by one.

You lose so much time in the hypnotic motion of bodies against your own that before you know it there is a gentle yet firm hand against your shoulder pulling you back from the man before you.

“Ready, baby?”

You nod, and soon after hear the familiar tear of foil before the head of Yoongi’s cock is pressing against your hole. You take a deep breath in, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as he begins to press himself in and stretch you open bit by bit. The burn isn’t particularly painful tonight, and to be honest sometimes you’re partial to the sensation.

By the time Yoongi is fully seated within you, you’re almost panting, soft moans escaping unwittingly. Through the fog of pleasure currently addling your brain, you hear similar noises in front of you and realise Namjoon must be in a similar state. Unconsciously, your hand stretches out, seeking contact, and manages to entwine with the large, warm one you identify as Namjoon’s good hand.

As soon as Yoongi receives the green light from you, he begins to move. The sensations of him dragging against your walls are enough to almost drive you mad, especially at the slow pace he’s set. It isn’t long before he picks up though, and soon rough the slap of his hips against your ass is one of the many sinful noises echoing in the room, muffled by the loud music still booming beyond the bedroom walls.

“O-oh, fuck,” you moan, barely coherent enough to respond to Namjoon’s seeking lips. Absently, you hear Yoongi’s soft groans and low murmured praises, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Good boy,” he all but purrs, hand caressing down your spine before finding purchase at your hips.

Time blurs and you’re wound so tight that it isn’t long before you feel yourself approaching that edge, your hand lowering to begin stroking your own cock again in an effort to reach your high faster. It’s one deep stroke that hits you in all the right places that is your undoing, and with a cry you’re cumming hard, spots appearing behind your eyes.

The sudden tightness around his cock has Yoongi stilling, a low, drawn out groan sounding from his throat as he joins you in your high, throbbing inside you. Your arms are a little too weak to continue holding you, but he seems to be in tune enough that he notices and his own slip around you, easing you into his embrace as he adjusts on the mattress and hums into your skin.

Namjoon and Hoseok aren’t far behind you, the two of them reaching their own end not long after. Namjoon flops against the bed, spent and Hoseok hops up to retrieve a bin and some wipes to clean up a bit before he too flops across the mattress, smacking Namjoon’s ass as he does and eliciting a brief whine in protest.

“Well fuck,” you hum, staring absently at the ceiling. Yoongi snorts, pulling you closer, and like they all share a hive mind you’re very suddenly in the middle of a cuddle pile as the other two join in.

“Beats just watching, doesn’t it?” One of them queries, probably Hoseok— you’re too tired to really discern it.

“Mhm,” you respond, basking in content. “Four’s company, I suppose.”

There are a few hums of agreement, and then comfortable silence falls over the room. You find yourself smiling as you sink into the most content sleep you’ve had in a while, in the arms of the three boxers who have nestled their way into your heart one by one

#bts smut #bts fic #btsghostie #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x male reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x male reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok x male reader #bts au #rapline fic #rapline smut #reader insert #my work #my writing #bts fanfic

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bonkwrites · 4 years ago

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A Good Girl’s Fantasy (Kinktober Day 4) (part two)

This is Part Two! Find part one: here

Pairing: Shigaraki x Fem!Reader x Dabi X Hawks

Description: Quirkless Mafia AU! You, Tomura Shigaraki’s loyal girlfriend and part-time good girl, and Tomura have a foursome with his right hand- Dabi; and Dabi’s boyfriend and part-time brat Kiego Takami. You’re excited to play with Kiego, as long as Tomura lets you of course.

Warnings: spanking, degredation, pain kink, dom Shigaraki, dom dabi, brat Kiego.

Dabi had gotten him to kneel on the bed and was going through the backpack they brought, looking for something. He pulls out a pretty scary looking paddle- it’s got spiky studs on the leather that looks to be covering wood. Your eyes go wide when you see it and Tomura chuckles.

“Looks scary, right?” He whispers into your ear. You nod. You’ve only gotten the paddle once and that was just a regular leather covered wooden paddle. Even Kiego seems scared of this paddle, he’s gotten tenser and as Dabi approaches him he opens his mouth.

“I’ll behave-”

“Like hell you will.” Dabi flips Kiego onto his stomach and drags him down until his legs are dangling off the bed. “You get ten, then we’ll see if you’ll behave.”

“Sir.” You whisper to Tomura. He looks at you, smirking. “Can I have some too?”

“I think your whore is having an effect on my baby.” Tomura pulls you onto his lap and you throw yourself over his chest and shoulders willingly. Dabi smiles smugly as he delivers the first hit. Kiego grunts.

“Why’s that?” Dabi asks as he gives out number two.

“She wants to get spanked by that absolute torture device you have in your hand.” Tomura replies. Dabi turns it over in his hand and dishes out number three and four quickly. Kiego shouts, squirming and reaching his hands back. Dabi holds his wrists down on his back.

“How many do you want, little mouse?” He asks. Kiego screws his face up and winces at number five. “I’m not going to be gentle.”

“F-Five? But! Only if Sir will hold my hands?” You look up at Tomura, waiting for his answer. He smiles down at you, hand on your face.

“Anything for my good girl. Go lay next to the brat.” You lift yourself off of his lap and walk around the bed to lay next to Kiego. You stretch your hands out, palms open for Tomura to grab. He holds them, rubbing his thumbs against the backs of your hands.

“You’re going to take Kiego’s last five with him and if he apologizes for being a brat I’ll let him fuck you.” Dabi rubs his free hand over your ass and grazes the paddle over it. You gasp. “Ready, little mouse?”

You nod. Dabi pulls back and then lands the paddle right across both cheeks. It stings and you yelp, hands balling into fists.

“How did that feel?” Tomura asks. Kiego swears at number six, a shakiness to his voice he didnt have before.

“Hurt.” You whimper. “Liked it.”

Dabi lands number two harder than before and you gasp wih and ‘ow!’ that makes Tomura snicker.

“I should spank you more often.” Tomura says as the stinging starts to subside. Kiego looks like he’s tearing up when number seven hits him. You push your ass out.

“Kiego…” You whisper. He looks at you. “Wanna kiss.”

“He’s being punished right now, little mouse.” Dabi says, hitting him with eight and nine on his thighs. He cries out and bites his lip, tears threatening to fall. “Kiss him after.”

Number three hits you out of nowhere and you tug on Tomura’s hands at the sudden hit. It stings worse than before and you feel yourself sinking into subspace even deeper than before, Dabi lands number four on your thighs and you shake afterward, imagining him holding it behind you while Tomura holds down your hands- it must be sight. Number four makes you curl your legs up, whimpering as you try to twist your body away.

“You’re okay? Baby?” Tomura checks in. You nod, biting your lip.

“I’m good. Like it. Just hurts.” Tomura smirks. Kiego gets his last hit and immediately relaxes. He rubs his hands across his cheeks, probably red.

Your last hit has you squirming, turned on beyond belief. Tomura lets go of your hands and you pull Kiego in to kiss him. His cheeks are wet and you squirm around to straddle his hips as he lays on his back. He moans into the kiss, hands moving to your hips.

“Getting carried away, aren’t we?” Tomura threads a hand into your hair and pulls you away from Kiego’s lips. You gasp, lips wet and swollen red. Tomura smirks when you look at him, needy from

“Want him to fuck me.” You say, mind fogged up by how turned on you are.

“How do you ask nicely?” Tomura asks. You grind your hips down onto Kiego’s cock.

“Please.” You beg, putting on your best good girl act despite feeling like you’ll throw a tantrum if you don’t get filled with cock right now. “Let him fuck me. Please. Need it.”

Tomura concedes, letting go of your hair and getting off the bed. You still haven’t cum and the paddle has only made you more turned on. You line Kiego’s cock up and slowly sink down. Kiego moans loudly, hands gripping your hips. You whimper when you sink down all the way, Kiego’s cock deep inside you.

“Fuck.” You moan, starting to bounce your hips.

“Feels so good, holy shit.” Kiego wraps an arm around your waist and behind you head, sitting up to flip you both over.

You squeak in surprise and then moan loudly as Kirgo begins to fuck you. He dips his head down to your neck, sucking and biting marks into your skin.

“I’m gonna cum…” Kiego moans. Dabi hums.

“Make her cum first.” He surmises, looking somehow bored it’s the scene in front of him. Kiego moans, hand snaking between your bodies to rub your clit. You moan, hips bucking against his hand.

“Ah- Sir- can I cum?” You arch your back and look at Tomura. He turns to Dabi and they exchange a few words.

“Yes.” He replies. You gasp and moan, tumbling head first into your orgasm. You squirm, crying out Kiego’s name as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm.

“Fuck…” Kiego moans into your neck, cumming with a shudder that runs through him. He pulls out and you sink into the bed, feeling weightless.

Each dom comes down on their respective sub quickly after Kiego falls beside you on the bed. Tomura wraps you up on a soft blanket and pulls you into his chest, letting you sneak your hands up to hold your water bottle. Dabi holds Kiego and whispers praise to him quietly on the other side of the bed.

“Liked it.” You and Kiego echo each other to your doms, trying to communicate that you enjoyed it. You wiggle out of Tomura’s hold to lay down with Kiego. He squirms into your arms and you sigh, eyes closed.

You’re definitely doing this again.

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strafethesesinners · 4 years ago

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1 6 14 15 19 for john & coop??

Thank you so much!! Sorry I took so long to get to these! (ship headcanons meme)

Real quick as a preface of these two, I’m sure most of y’all already know but just in case, I pretty much have two canons for them at this point. One where they’re enemies like in the game until John gets kicked out of the project which is what my one fic is about (which no, I haven’t abandoned I just haven’t updated since Sept. ajfkajlfdlakfjlsaj). The other one is just them hooking up before the reaping and stuff so like, maybe starting about four months or so beforehand and up until then.......(and then what? I don’t know yet we’ll see).

1. Who makes the first move and how?

In my fic verse I have a scene planned out after they get stranded out in the woods while they’re trying to get to Jacob’s Gate. They end up having a little bit to drink. (John gets way drunker than Cooper) they start talking about the uh tension that’s been going on between them and John ends up kissing Cooper. I won’t give the rest away. In the pre-verse (not really sure what to call these aus tbh) this isn’t strictly canon yet but I have a little scene where Cooper pulls John over for speeding, they end up just flirting a whole lot, then Cooper gives John his number instead of a ticket (great police work there Coop).

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

So there are a vast number of y’all’s OCs that they would definitely ask but if we’re only doing canon characters, this would be Cooper’s list: Mary May, Adelaide (Xander maybe), Sharky, Pastor Jerome, Grace, Hudson, Pratt (Pratt and Cooper don’t get along but he’s still a maybe), Nick & Kim but only together (foursome), Bo Adams, Skylar Kohrs, Eli. (Cooper: “I know I’m forgetting some people but that’s the general list”) The only problem is all those people would say absolutely not to John or John would say no to them (John might be ok with Mary May but she certainly wouldn’t be ok with him). All except Adelaide probably, so she might be their only choice as far as canon characters go. I mean, they could do worse.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

John’s just the “so no head?” vine. Ok say they’re a little bit farther along in the relationship and have feelings for each other. John still probably wouldn’t really do much. He might get Cooper some cold medicine or something and like, awkwardly ask him how he’s doing every now and then. Cooper wouldn’t freak out or anything if John was sick, but he would feel bad for him and probably make him some soup or something. He might hang out at John’s house the whole time, because I think that once John realized that Cooper cared about how felt he would probably act much sicker than he really is. Trying to get Cooper to bring him food and water and stuff in bed. Wanting Cooper to stay there and cuddle him and watch movies with him etc. You can’t really blame him, he’s most likely never had anyone pay that much attention to his comfort and health before.

15. When they watch a film, what do they choose and why? Who gets the final vote?

I don’t think John would actually even know what kind of movies he likes to be honest, so he would probably let Cooper pick them out. Cooper likes action movies and westerns the most, but he also likes scifi and fantasy. I feel like John would like some of them and others he’d probably consider extremely stupid and would probably say so and ruin the experience for Cooper. Like I think once he did start liking to watch movies he’d be the type to pick apart all the plot holes and like innaccuries and shit. Cooper decides not to watch any more horror movies with John after they watch a SAW movie and John makes a lot of comments like “now that’s interesting” “hmm not a bad idea, but so impersonal” “I wouldn’t do it that way I’d (describes what he would do instead).”

19. Where do they go on their first date?

So this would only apply to the pre-verse. Cooper would probably ask John for a drink at the Spread Eagle but John is probably not gonna go for that (although that might be a fun scene to write so...we’ll see) and if so then John will probably just have Cooper come over to his house for dinner. Which I guess would be something John picked up or Cooper would offer to bring stuff.

#oc: cooper mccoy #john seed #far cry 5 oc #john seed x oc #ship meme #ship headcanons

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julemmaes · 5 years ago

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C’mon, lick it // part two

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs modern au

I DID IT, @tyherondaletrash FUCK YOU BITCH THIS IS FOR YOU CAUSE YOU DIDN’T LET ME LIVE THROUGH IT AND YOU’RE GONNA CRY THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR EYES

Everyone else, enjoy it!:)

Word count: 6,146

“I can’t believe those two are becoming old dudes.” Matthew sighed taped to Christopher’s side. They were in front of the entrance of James and Cordelia’s building ready to go and buy the noodles that the blond craved so much, but they had been there for more than five minutes and Thomas was beginning to suspect that soon they would all be going home.

“Leave them alone Math, they are not old.” Christopher replied yawning.

Thomas chuckled when he saw Matthew’s cautionary look, but he felt his eyelids heavy as well and in three seconds his mouth also opened wide and made a noisy sound.

“They just have a job that starts very early, unlike ours.” Lucie defended her brother and her best friend by trying to make it clear to Matthew that ordinary people with office jobs had to wake up at six, unlike people who worked in bars, like her and Math, who could go to sleep at the time the others were getting ready .

“About jobs that start very early.” Thomas intervened by smiling displeased, putting an arm around Alastair’s shoulders, who was rubbing his hands trying to warm up a bit. He found it ridiculous how his boyfriend so stubbornly refused to buy a pair of gloves.

“No. You’re not going anywhere.” Matthew snorted laughing, “And while I have not yet fully accepted your dyed blond there…” he continued nodding to Alastair with his chin, ‘It was just a phase.’ defended the guy, interrupting Math “…I would not want to stay alone with Mr. In Love and Miss. I Still Sleep With My Puppet. I could use real men.”

“The hell Math! It was supposed to be a secret!” Lucie whined, dodging Christopher who tried to stop her and hitting the boy on the shoulder. He snorted again, pushing her back to her place place. The Lightwood between them was holding back a laugh at the ease with which his friend had moved his cousin.

“Shut up, Lulu, everyone knows you’re still a child.” Matthew smirked, calling her with the nickname he knew only her father could use, looking in front of him and waiting for her to answer in kind.

“I’m sorry, but I also have to go in an hour early tomorrow and your mother might kill me if I’m late.” Alastair apologized by speaking quickly so that the bickering didn’t drag on, trying to look really sorry and not show how excited he was to finally go home.

“I’m too tired for a noodles party. Forgive me.” Thomas tried to save his boyfriend by directing Math’s anger toward him, and so it was, because it was as if Alastair hadn’t even spoken when Matthew turned to Thomas and was as disgusted as he had been before when he looked at James said, “No fuck you, I’ll never forgive you, asshole.”

“God, what am I gonna do now?” Thomas cried out in a desperate tone, Lucie slightly jumped at the sound, smiling broadly, “I will never recover from this terrible insult.” Lucie burst into laughter and when Thomas took Alastair’s hand in his starting to walk back to their apartment, Kit greeted them.

“Night night.” Lucie murmured with a half-smile on her lips, as if the fact that they were leaving weighted more on her than Matthew. Well this is really weird, thought Thomas looking at her, before turning and shouting over his shoulder, “Good night, everybody.” Alastair pushed him, as if to remind him what time it was (and that they had already screamed enough) and waved his hand in the direction of the trio, saying with a lower tone of several octaves “Night.”

“I hope you choke in your sleep, traitors.” Matthew cried as he stepped towards them, but staring at the window of James’ apartment. Then he looked at his wrist carelessly, “It’s only three damn, and we’re already so few.” Thomas chuckled interlacing his fingers with Alastair’s.

They walked for a while in silence, as they used to do when they came home after movie night. They lived only ten minutes from their friends’ apartment and driving to cover a so little distance and then not finding any parking was not a thing that tempted either of them.

Thomas was thinking about what he would cook the next day for lunch and was going to ask the other what was better between chicken and a omellette, even though he knew that Alastair would always choose meat over everything.

Alastair gripped his hand tighter, drawing his attention and when he turned around Thomas was grinning from ear to ear, Alastair’s gaze darted away, “Thank you.”

Thomas’ head tilted to the side, “For what?”

“For lying.” he shrugged “I know you don’t work tomorrow.” He kept on looking in front of him, if his cheeks were red only for the cold or even for the embarrassment Thomas couldn’t say. He smiled more widely. Sometimes it was so hard for his boyfriend to say simple things like thank you that he knew that when he did it for such petty things it was only because he was training for when he would really apologize.

“Ah, yes.” Thomas moved a hand in the air, “Of course. And then I’m dead on my feet, too.” he sent another smile his way, hoping to charm him, but Alastair almost seemed to refuse to look at him and Thomas realized that something was wrong because something in his tone seemed completely off when he replied, “Sure.” Alastair face scrunched up.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, curious to understand what was going on in his little head.

“I don’t know. Cordelia seemed distracted tonight.” he answered casually, kicking a bottle that was on the sidewalk, “And Matthew in desperate need of distraction.” he continued by squeezing his eyes when a bus lit up his face.

Thomas was happily surprised, it was not an everyday thing to hear Alastair speaking so friendly of his Matthew. Even when things started to go really well between the two them, Matthew had been hesitant and it had taken a couple of years and a move to convince him that they were made for each other, “Matthew is always in desperate need of distraction.”

“True, but tonight it was notably. Maybe with Christopher in a relationship he feels very lonely.” He hypothesized, finally looking up at Thomas’ face, whose eyebrows shoot up at the sound of his words.

“And since when do you care so much about Math, exactly?” Thomas asked sincerely interested in knowing what had changed in his vision of the blond boy.

“I’m not a heartless being, you know?”

“Still. You’ve never gotten along and it’s strange to see you worried about him.” Thomas said shaking his head still a little unconvinced.

“Oh God, I’m not worried.” Alastair exclaimed like he seemed disgusted just by the idea of it, “I’m just saying that maybe we should do something to distract him.” He said, trying to make it look like it was a normal daily thing he did, plan to cheer up Matthew, failing miserably.

“We?” Thomas asked, trying to get confirmation of what he had just heard, looking like an old man who found out that Santa really exists.

“If you don’t stop being so surprised about this, I’m gonna slap you.” Alastair warned him in a threatening tone as a shiver passed through his body. Thomas left his hand, hugging him, but keeping walking.

“As if you could reach me up here.” Thomas joked with a smirk.

“You’re… you-” the voice came out muffled, hindered by his boyfriend’s jacket, which pressed on his chin. Not that he minded, he was already feeling better than a few minutes before and could feel his fingertips start to regain sensitivity.

“Irresistible? Awesome? Too handsome for this world?” proposed Thomas hopefully, receiving a elbow straight to the ribs.

“Unbelievable.” said Alastair scowling, but still being slightly amused.

If to Alastair the others had seemed to be completely done with life and ready to sleep for eternity, Thomas was the exact opposite. He seemed to be kvelling out of every pore and the way he was jumping around, bouncing him around like a puppet, took a little of his concern away.

“Unbelievably handsome, you mean.”

“No, I meant you’re unbelievably stupid.”

“Ouch.”

Alastair shook his head, grinning, “Either way, if you don’t want to do something all together, you guys could always bring him out. You four could do a thing, like in the old days.” he proposed, shoving him off and putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Shortly after, he felt Thomas’ hand slipping into his own and smiled, holding his fingers hoping to warm up even more.

“A foursome thing you say?” Thomas asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “I didn’t know you were into these kind of things.” Thomas looked at him winking, but the smile died on his lips when he saw the grin on Alastair’s face.

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking shit, I won’t let you sleep with me for a week.”

Thomas scoffed, “You wouldn’t last that long. You’d miss me too much.”

“Two weeks, then.” returned Alastair, not at all frightened at the idea of actually spending two weeks without being able to sleep in Thomas’ arms.

“Wanna bet?” he asked him laughing, probably still thinking he was joking.

“You know I never back down.”

Thomas got serious, pulling his hand out of Alastair’s pocket and, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, offering it to his boyfriend. “Deal?”

“Deal.” said Alastair without blinking, turning to him and shaking his hand.

“What does the winner get?” Thomas asked without letting go.

“Don’t know.”

“How about…” Thomas pretended to think about it, but the grin on his lips implied that he had kept that particular punishment for a special moment. And it had arrived. It wasn’t strange that they were betting with each other, “The loser does the laundry for a whole month?”

“Yes please. I hate doing laundry.” said Alastair, hinting at nothing more than no intention of losing.

“Oh I know, that’s why it’s gonna be so much better when you drag yourself out of our room to come on the couch because you’re gonna miss me too much.”

“Believe it all you want.” Alastair said, “And don’t think you’re the only one sleeping on the couch. We’ll do a day each.” he added. Thomas was quite gigantic, and he would certainly sleep all curled up on the couch, waking up with an absurd stiff neck, but he also knew that he would never let him sleep on the couch for two weeks. Even because Thomas would lose.

“Maybe we should seal it with a kiss.” Thomas leaned down, taking a step towards him so that now they’re faces were just mere centimeters apart. Alastair felt the hairs of his arms standing up and tried to convince himself that it was the cold, like every time they were out and Thomas insisted on touching him.

“You are insufferable.” he smiled, brushing his lips with Thomas’.

“And you’re irresistible.” Oh my god.

“What’s up with all your flirty little comments tonight?” he shoved him by the shoulder, always keeping him close to his body, not wanting to let him go yet. Their hands still clasped together.

“I studied the adjectives dictionary and thought I should share my new knowledge.” Thomas said, lowering the tone of the voice, looking at him as if his life depended on it.

“Stupid.” breathed Alastair, licking his own lips. Thomas’s gaze snapped down at the movement of his tongue and a guttural sound shook in Alastair’s chest, “I, for example, would have used witless.”

“Kiss me.” Thomas ordered him in a sensual voice and Alastair found himself thinking about what his mother would believe if they arrested him for obscene acts in public, if he had stripped him and taken him right there.

When they got home, the warm air that came from inside invaded Alastair to the bones and he closed his eyes beading of that familiar smell that was a mixture between his and Thomas’s.

He was about to take his shoes off when Tom looked out of the kitchen, handing him a black bag that smelled awful. He wrinkled his nose, slightly turning his head away to escape the smell. And here goes the dream, he thought sighing.

“Would you mind taking the garbage out?” he asked him with a hopeful smile, already wearing slippers. “It’s been there for two days and it’s starting to smell so bad that if a bear came into the house, I wouldn’t be so surprised.” he said seriously.

Alastair raised an eyebrow, taking back the keys he had just laid and the dripping sack. He wrinkled his nose again, “There are no bears in London.”

“Whatever.” he heard the other says as he closed the door behind him.

He started humming, thinking about the closing of the case he and Charlotte were working on right now. He’d been working for a little over a year at a law firm in the City, and this was the first major case she’d ever entrusted to him so far.

He went down the last flight of stairs opening the door to the back of the house, but heard a loud noise coming from the main entrance so, after having arranged the bag so that it could not be moved by the wind, he went to check what was happening.

Once again in the fresh air of a sleeping London, he saw a person trying to get up and stopped at the last step, hesitating, trying to see if it could have been someone dangerous or if they only needed help.

The figure before him grunted, swearing immediately afterwards and with a movement too fast for what seemed his physical condition, he stood, staggering.

Alastair was left breathless, and all he saw was red. A red that had tormented him for years and that occasionally appeared in his worst nightmares, “Charles.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Alastair felt himself die a little.

It had been months since he had last said his name and years since they had seen each other.

He knew that he had moved to a small town near Basingstoke, but he had also explicitly asked Matthew not to tell him anything else and that time the boy had just nodded, without saying any jokes as usual.

He was wearing a suit and tie, and to unknown eyes he might have seemed fine, but (god damn him) Alastair knew him, and saw what was under the abnormal amount of alcohol he ingested. He knew that something serious had happened if he was in London. In front of the apartment he shared with Thomas. And yet, even though he knew it was something bad, he didn’t care.

He’d already given him too much, he didn’t even deserve a minute of his time. At the sound of his voice, Charles’ eyes snapped at him and Alastair felt compelled to step back, resenting him being so close. His hands started shaking and he stared at him with his eyes wide open. He knew he looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t hide the shock of seeing him there.

He was about to go back, inclined not to start a conversation with the boy who stood before him and Charles had such glossy eyes that to Alastair they could only remind him of all the times he had been forced to lock himself in a room with Cordelia, to spare her the sight of an alcoholic father. He nodded his head as a sign of greeting, his lips reduced to a thin line, turning and grabbing the door handle-

“Alastair.”

He closed his eyes and his breath became ragged. He felt his throat burn and he forced himself to wear the mask he had not touched in recent years and that had made him become someone he was not, made him become a monster.

“Alastair, I…” Charles took a step towards him, putting one foot on the first step, and Alastair’s back slammed into the frozen glass of the door when he tried to walk away. Charles halted, clenching his jaw.

Taking a deep breath, and another, then another, Alastair managed to talk, “What are you doing here?”

Charles seemed to relax, but he still came down the stairs, swinging before he grabbed the railing, “I wanted to see you.”

Alastair almost laughed, but he was able to detach himself from the door, carrying both hands in his pocket, closing them into fists, “How do you know where I live?” He asked in a dry tone, looking him in the eye.

“My mother told me.”

“You’re drunk.” Alastair stated, his gaze never leaving Charles’.

“I wanted to see you.” Charles repeated, as if those five words justified everything. As if he hadn’t made Alastair go through hell the whole time they were together and even after, when he tried to undermine his relationship with Thomas.

“It’s been four years.” his expression hardened.

“Rebecca left me.” one hiccup, and then Charles was holding back the vomit. Alastair turned his attention to the buildings around him, trying not to feel pity for the other.

Did she find out about your secret life and that you were lying to her all this time? , he wanted to ask him, but he just swallowed. He heard Charles sighing with relief and hoping he wouldn’t throw up, he turned to him again, “I didn’t know you were with anyone.” he said instead.

“Yes, because you didn’t bother to ask yourself how I was after you broke my heart.”

Alastair made a choked sound. He couldn’t believe it.

“I didn’t do anything. You built a life in a house of cards without thinking that the wind could blow too strong.” he told him approaching him enough to smell his cologne. The scent threatened to cloud his brain, bringing up too many memories.

Charles stood still, looking up at him, smirking, “How poetic you’ve become.”

“I’ve always been poetic, but you told me to be quiet because you were afraid someone might hear us.” Alastair raised his chin in defiance, and was satisfied when Charles did not answer him. He stood up straight and in a much less confident voice than he would have liked, he turned and pulled the keys out of his pocket, “Now excuse me, but I really have to go.”

“Sure, you’ve always been good at running away when things get tough.” Charles laughed, laughter devoid of all fun.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whispered looking at the wood and glass in front of him, trying to focus on the brown streaks and not on Charles, “I didn’t run away because things had become difficult. I left you because you didn’t see me.” he took a small break, “You didn’t want to be with me and that… What we had was anything but healthy, Charles.” He ended up holding his fingers around the keys.

“And that-” another hiccup, “Lightwood is good for you, isn’t he? He treats you well. Do you still push him around, like you used to? Do you boss him around?” Charles asked, with a tone that made Alastair realize he knew he had struck a nerve. “That’s why you’re together, right?” something in Alastair’s chest took life and a feeling that had been dormant for years came to the surface. A feeling he chose to ignore completely.

Alastair didn’t even look at him and opened the door, he growled, “Go away. And don’t come back, or I’ll call the police.” When he came into the house for the second time that night, the heat didn’t warm the frost in his bones, and neither did the cheerful tone of his boyfriend when, leaning against the back of the couch, he said, “Finally, I was going to come down and rescue you.” Alastair didn’t answer right away, he was looking for an excuse, whatever was good to justify the fact that he was out for ten minutes.

He couldn’t have started a discussion right now. Not that Thomas would be mad at him, no. He probably would have consoled him, but in that moment he just needed to be alone and think about what Charles had told him. Convince yourself it was bullshit.

Thomas realized that something had changed in his boyfriend’s mood because he asked him, “Hey, everything’s all right?”

Alastair quickly recovered, blinking and starting to undress, “Yes, yes.” he said distractedly. “I’m just tired.” he took off his shoes, entering the kitchen to get a glass of water. His throat was so dry that it was beginning to hurt.

“Are you sure?” he heard Thomas scream in a worried tone from the living room, then that spark in his voice came back, “Are you already considering how bad laundry would be, for a month?”

He drew two glasses before he thought it safe to speak without his throat, now no longer made of sandpaper, being torn. He came out of the kitchen, heading towards their bedroom, “Sure. ‘Night Tom.” Alastair said to him, rubbing his hand on his face.

“Good night, Alas.” he heard him say. A break, then, “I love you!” said loud enough for night bus drivers to hear it.

“I love you too.” he whispered before closing the door behind him.

Thomas kept tossing and turning on the couch. The blanket he had chosen was making his arms itch and he could not find a position where all parts of his body were on the cushions and his neck was not bent in an uncomfortable position. Changing the blanket was not possible because entering their bedroom risking waking Alastair up was not even an option.

In the morning he would have had an important trial and had to be rested. Thomas was going to throw everything on the floor and settle down, there, when the sound of something falling out of the apartment door and a muffled fuck drew his attention.

His eyes moved quickly to the end of the hall, where Alastair slept undisturbed, “What-?” Thomas stood up when he heard another noise and then someone knocking so softly on the door that for a moment he thought he had imagined it.

He walked slowly to the hall, looking for something to defend himself, in case whoever was behind the door tried to harm him. He looked through the peephole and almost sweared.

He only saw the red hair, but it was enough to recognize the figure of Charles Fairchild. He sucked in a breath taking his keys and opened the door glaring once more at the door down the hallway, pushing back every rational thoughts in a box and ready to do everything in his power to prevent Charles to get to Alastair. The blood already boiling in his veins.

As soon as he was outside the apartment, he regretted opening the door. Charles was obviously drunk.

Thomas clenched his jaw, trying to control his tongue, who threatened to spit insults at him every second he spent staring at the brother of one of his best friends.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in an icy tone.

Charles chuckled, closing his eyes with an almost relaxed expression, “Funny.” Thomas raised an eyebrow, “What?” he asked. “No, I don’t care.” he told him by raising a hand in front of him, blocking anything else he had to say.

He closed his hands in fists, carrying his arms behind his back, insisting not to hit him unless absolutely necessary. His eyes widened, shocked by his own thoughts, opening his hands and crossing his arms on the chest.

The others would have been ashamed of him, because he was not violent, he was the gentle one, he repeated himself in the head like a mantra.

Yet kindness was the last thing he could summon as he watched Charles stare at him with a half-open eye and smelled like beer. “You have to leave before Alastair hears you.” he ordered without so many words. Saying his boyfriend’s name in front of him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“And why would I do that?” Charles asked, ridiculously, staggering forward.

One thought brushed Thomas’ mind, “Does Matthew know what state you’re in?”

“Matthew.” disgust transformed Charles’ face, “He doesn’t even know I’m back.”

Thomas almost flinched away. He could have never spoken of his brothers and sisters with so much hatred in his voice and he knew that the relationship between Charles and Matthew was anything but fraternal, but he did not think that the oldest despised Matthew so much. That’s why he couldn’t control himself when he said to him with a strong tone, almost spitting, “Go away.”

Charles looked him in the eye and with the more serious expression than he had until then, said, “Make me.”

Thomas grabbed him by the shoulder and pulling him he behind began to descend the stairs quickly. Charles was having a hard time keeping up with him, and a couple of times he went and slammed into his back, but Thomas didn’t feel anything, and he didn’t move a half inch. He heard Charles swearing again and thought that he had never heard him say a dirty word until that night, “Okay, okay, calm down. I’m leaving.” Charles said yanking his jacket out of Thomas’ grasp.

“If I see you even a hundred meters from this house, I swear to God, I won’t be so forgiving, and the next place you’ll find yourself is prison.” he warned him without a glance, as he dropped him to the ground just outside the building.

“You’ve become such an asshole Lightwood, you were so kind before.” Charles bit and stood up and rubbed his wrists, “I remember you playing in our garden with Matthew and Christopher.” he chuckled for the thousandth time, “And after a few years, James came along. How cute you were.” he said with a sincerely happy smile.

“I’m serious, either you leave in five minutes, or I call the police.” he warned him one last time.

“Funny.” Charles repeated.

A vein popped out in Thomas’s neck while he yelled, closing the distance between the two of them, “What?!” He asked, “What by God’s grace do you find so amusing in all of this?”

“You spend so much time following his orders, you’ve become just like him.” hissed Charles, a chill ran down Thomas’ spine.

Everything stopped, “What are you talking about?”

Charles puffed, like he was bored with that conversation, like whatever he was talking about, the whole world knew, “Alastair.”

Thomas stood motionless, “I still don’t understand.”

He was ready to hear some bullshit, Charles wasn’t in a position to have such a serious conversation, and he couldn’t think clearly. For that it took a while when the other resumed speaking, it took a few seconds to really understand what he had just said, “I know him. He doesn’t really love you.” he hiccuped and stopped, “That’s always been the case between you two. You going after him like a lost puppy and he putting up with you because having someone around him is convenient.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thomas draw in a slow and steady breath, shaking his head.

“Oh my God, you’re starting to scare me.” Charles let out a disbelieved laugh.

Thomas couldn’t hold it anymore, “Go away.”

Charles raised his hands as a sign of surrender and began to walk backwards, looking much more sober than he really was. He smiled, “You should be careful. You could get burned.” Thomas didn’t answer.

And he didn’t answer him when Charles turned around and walked towards High Holborn and said, “Goodbye, Thomas.”

When he opened the door for the second time that night he sighed, hoping that Charles would not come back to annoy them because he didn’t think he could handle a mental blow like the one he just suffered.

They had overcome that problem years before, and Alastair absolutely didn’t need certain doubts to resurface, so he let a smile open on his lips when he heard his boyfriend calling him from the room in an alarming tone, “Tom?” sleep laced around his words, “Thomas, is that you?”

He crossed the apartment, opening the door slightly, leaning against the door frame. He forced the corners of his mouth to turn up, “Yes Alas, don’t worry.” he said, leaning his head against the wall, “I just heard a noise and went out to check that everything was okay.” he closed his eyes, tired from everything that had just happened.

“And was everything alright?” Alastair asked, raising on his elbows. His hair was all messed up and a particular tuft was pulled up, he kinda looked like a rooster. Thomas looked at him and chuckled, nodding, “Yes, nothing to worry about. It was just Petunia.” he murmured referring to the one-legged squirrel who always managed to sneak into the stairwell of their building.

They looked at each other for a while in silence. Thomas was deciding whether or not to tell him, maybe he should let it go. Their lives were going great now, they didn’t need to ruin their night because of this. He would have told him about it another day.

Alastair’s eyes narrowed, questioning, “Do you need anything?”

Suddenly, Thomas couldn’t control what came out of his mouth, and before he knew it, he was moving toward the bed, “It wasn’t petunia.” He sat down, never looking away from Alastair, whose eyes were focused on Thomas’s hand, who was holding the blanket between his fingers, “It was Charles.”

Thomas waited for Alastair to realize what he had just said. It gave him time to decide whether or not to talk about it, but the only thing he said was, “You just lost the bet.”

Thomas’s chest tightened in a press, his eyes threatening to water, “Alas.” his hand lingered between them, resting at the end on Alastair’s arm, who slowly escaped his touch, as if not to offend Thomas, “I don’t want to talk about it now.” he whispered finally, his eyes welled up, mirroring Thomas’.

“You met him when you came down to take the garbage down.” Thomas understood with horror, holding his breath. Alastair’s body fell all the way back on the bed, and he brought an arm to cover his face, but Thomas heard it anyway when he said, “I don’t want to talk about it now.” he took a trembling breath, “Please.”

“Alright.” Thomas laid down next to him, taking him in his arms, while Alastair set himself up so that his back was crushed against the other’s chest.

“I love you.” Thomas said in his ear, putting his cheek on his shoulder, “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.” answered Alastair, staring at the void before him, “I love you too.” he said before closing his eyes.

***

“I don’t think you should go to work in your condition.”

“And what condition would I be in exactly, Thomas?” telled Alastair, anger flashing in his eyes.

That morning they woke up and very quietly did what they did every other morning. Alastair had gone to take a shower while Thomas was making breakfast, both were so thoughtless that they looked like two walking dead men. This was at least until Thomas had pointed out that he was not well at all and that he could not face hours of trial, even risking compromising the case.

“You’re obviously in shock from meeting Charles and going to court with your ex’s mother doesn’t seem like the best way to deal with it.” Thomas answered him by getting up from the stool and approaching Alastair, who in the meantime was tying his tie in front of the mirror they had arranged at the entrance.

“And let’s hear it, what would be the best way to do it, hmm? Sit on the couch in pajamas all day feeling sorry for myself?” he made a sound of exasperation, bending his tie and clenching his fist, trying to calm down. Thomas went next to him, taking the garment from his hand and placing it back behind his neck, smiling amused, with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not working today, and you know I would stay here with you. We could talk about it.” he told him, focusing on the knot instead of him, knowing full well how much he hated being looked at during these conversations.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” grunted Alastair, minimizing the matter at hand as usual.

“Yes, there is.” Thomas answered, walking away to see the final result. Alastair bit out a thank you.

“No, there isn’t.” huffed Alastair, “It just happened that Charles came back to see how my life was going and to make sure you and I were still together. This is what happened.”

“We need to talk about it because if he told you half the things he said to me, that means you’re gonna let the hate eat you up until it’s too much and you’re gonna convince yourself that what he said is true and you’re gonna walk away from me. And I’m not gonna let that happen,” Thomas said.

Alastair, who was in the middle of pouring himself a glass of water, stopped, laying it all in the sink and drew all his attention to his boyfriend, “What did he tell you?”

Thomas, seeing that he had finally gained ground with that phrase, did not miss the opportunity, “Will you call to get off work today?”

“What did he tell you, Thomas?”

“Will you call?”

“Yes, fuck, yes. I will call.” he answered exasperated, leaning on the table with both hands, staring out the window. “What did he talk about?”

“He thrust high school times in my face.” he saw Alastair lean even more, “He told me that I’m your dog and that you only play along because you need company, in a nutshell.”

“You know it’s all bullshit right?” when Alastair spoke his voice was pained, desperate.

“Do you?” Thomas asked again, “Because I know you, Alas. And I know you know I love you, but I also know that you’re probably wondering how it’s possible after everything you’ve done.”

“I love you too.” rushed to say Alastair completely forgetting what else his boyfriend had said, as if he were afraid that if he didn’t say it, Thomas would leave.

“I know.” Thomas approached him, putting his hand on his forearm, making Alastair turn to him, “I know, and everything that happened at school doesn’t matter. We’ve already had that argument. We’ve already solved everything.” he said with a hopeful look. But he saw in Alastair’s eyes how deep Charles’ words were already planted.

“Yes I know,” Alastair said despite everything, “All that crap about the child with a sad childhood trying to cope with it by taking it out on others. I do remember that one.”

“It’s not crap. It’s the truth.” he said to him as a reprimand, holding his arm slightly, “I chose to be with you. And I choose it every day because every day you give me a chance to see what a great person you are and how much you’re actually worth it. The others may not see you as you really are, but I do.” He touched his cheek, smiling.

Alastair looked at him for a few seconds, and then closed his eyes kissing him. Thomas was right, they had already addressed the subject too many times to return to it now.

“Now why don’t you call Charlotte and tell her you’re not going to work so we can get in bed and do nothing all day?” Thomas reminded him when they broke off, and he was still crushed against him.

“You are insufferable.”

“I made you coffee.” Thomas walked away from Alastair, approaching the stove, “Here.” said turning a teaspoon of sugar in the coffee. He offered him the dripping teaspoon, because he knew how much it bothered Alastair to waste even a drop of that gift of the gods, as he called it, “C’mon, lick it.” Thomas whined when Alastair stood still before him eyeing him with a look of pure love.

Alastair’s smile turned into something else, while with one hand he took the cup and the spoon from Thomas’s hands and with a sensual tone said, “I thought I’d lick something else actually.”

Thomas yelped when Alastair picked him up from the ground, with a bit of difficulty, and brought him into the room laughing. He threw him on the bed before jumping on his boyfriend’s body.

Yeah, fuck Charles.

taglist (if you want to be added just dm me and consider it done, same goes for the ones who want to be deleted)

@tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @cordelia-carstairs-owns-me @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea

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