#inky eyes golden heart au

[star-going-supernova]

I've been reading through the IEGH series, and I gotta know: Would Henry ever think to invite Lucifer over for Thanksgiving? I know the holiday means a lot to Henry, and he might (almost) be considering Lucifer a friend.

I could absolutely see Henry eventually consider Lucifer enough of a friend to invite him over for a holiday, Thanksgiving or otherwise! He'd mostly hold off for the sake of his human friends. If he was celebrating something on his own, maybe a non-human holiday, I think he'd invite Lucifer to join him sooner.

[star-going-supernova]

i am frothing at the mouth, i love this so much

This aesthetic is for @star-going-supernova, I've been obsessed with her BATIM/BATDR stories lately and felt the urge to put this together after binge reading the "Inky Eyes, Golden Heart" series.

____________________________________

Demon!Henry Stein

[tteokdoroki]

✎ᝰ. OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING - katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

[CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST] katsuki bakugou as the beast + monster fucking. once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while ( 10.3K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, beauty & the beast!au, enemies to lovers, bath sex, soft sex, cum play, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, pussy jobs, body modifications, tummy bulges, premature orgasms, marking, biting, belle + fem!reader, beast!katsuki bakugou.

✧ fairy godmother's note - hello, time for our second kinktober fic yippieee!! i think this is my second time doing bakugou and monster fucking...he's just perfect for it!! anyways, enjoy my loves! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

the beast wasn’t all that bad. 

at least, not compared to most people back home. 

in the village, beyond the forest’s edge and hidden by evergreen foliage — the townsfolk believe you to be as beautiful as the world around you. eyes as bright as the golden sun rising over a hilly horizon. skin as soft as the flesh of fresh fruits hanging low from the trees. a voice that compliments that of early morning birds — gentle, kind. you’re the perfect vision. a perfect person. except for your one fatal flaw. 

you have your wits about you. it makes you strange. 

the people of your village think you were peculiar for having the tip of your nose poked into the spine of of a book each and every day. it’s not your fault that you enjoy the scent of their pages or that you find every story so alluring that you could read it over once or twice (and sometimes thrice). the people back home were unnerved by your intelligence — staring at you sideways if you daydreamed for a little too long (wishing for a life outside of your tiny province, one  full of adventure) or sending you concerned stares if you stumbled over your steps while reading.

it didn’t help that your papa was a whimsical inventor — his intricate machines that coughed and spluttered a little too loudly and left him covered in soot were often the talk of the town, worsening the whispers. despite the cruel opinions of others, papa’s love for you never faltered, all the while promising you that his prized tools would get you out of town, away from the people who called you odd and strange —  they thought him just as crazy as you. like father like daughter, you suppose.

then there was shindou. the most sought after bachelor in all of town and quite possibly the worst part about your old life. your life before the beast. the man was handsome, that much was true — his eyes and hair an inky black that would draw anyone in like a misty night. features, chiselled and strength obvious. shindou was pretty, eye candy without an ounce of brains. conversation with him felt like watching paint dry, he spoke so highly of himself you often wondered how his head hadn’t imploded from getting so big. for some reason, he was hellbent on making you his wife. not because you were smart, or liked to read and explore, but because to him… you were a pretty prize to be treasured.

so, when you stumbled upon the beast’s castle that night and gave up your freedom in exchange for your father’s, you hadn’t realised how lucky you were to be away from yo shindou and his crew. the village too. still, that didn’t take away from the harsh reality of your new prison. an enchanted castle, enclosing you in with the mangy beast. 

in strange ways, as strange as your mind, you found in your heart to feel sympathy for the beast, or bakugou as you’d come to know him. for many years he’d been cursed with a form cruel to the human eye — shaggy blonde fur, wild and blood red eyes and horns that were comparable to the devils. his selfish nature and a spell from hundreds of years ago had not been kind to the creature. from the sounds of things ( stories from the seemingly…alive…furniture existing within the walls of his withering home ) bakugou had failed to show concern or care in his youth, by taking a rose from a haggard old woman in exchange for a night’s worth of shelter. in return, she cursed him with the looks of a beast until he could find true love. 

his staff ( the furniture ) had told you of his crumbling hope and damaged heart. it still didn't excuse his odd behaviour — where the princely beast told rather than asked, scratched and smashed rather than communicated. he was much angrier than the other inhuman inhabitants of the enchanted castle. though…sometimes you noticed a tenderness swirling between the brown flecks within katsuki’s vermillion eyes, rich with a longing for affection that filled you with warmth whenever you caught him staring at you reading in the library he’d set up just for you or when he’d take you outside to feed the birds in the snow together. 

other times, katsuki could be somewhat…charming. since arriving, you could tell that he was doing his best to become a gentleman who toned down his anger. he fiddled with cutlery too small for his claws during meals with you just to be polite — denying his blush with a petulant pout whenever he was caught. he tried not to stare too long or at the wrong places whenever you spoke and spent time together. he wasn’t like shindou, who drooled over you like you were a piece of meat fresh from a roast. 

for a long time, you all but wished to find someone who understood you — who’d nurture your mind and the wind beneath your wings rather than see you as a prized pet bird to be kept in a cage. and over time, you had naively began to believe that katsuki, the beast, might have been the only person in this whole world to see you exactly the way you wanted to be seen. the hope that you had met your match flickered like a small candle’s flame in your heart — it reflected as a small glint of light in katsuki’s once exhausted, pessimistic eyes. you thought, day by day, that you could be happy here. with the beast. in place of your village back home.

just when you thought katsuki was changing, that maybe you could be happy here with the beast — you’re thrown back into a reality you had tried so hard not to face. katsuki is a beast, a cruel monster keeping you a prisoner in his home. you are not a friend who has free roam over his castle or free will under his rein, you’re reminded that you’re his captive in exchange for your father’s remaining life. your wake up call comes in the form of an argument, the result of stumbling across the forbidden east wing and a rose petal that wilts so pretty in the centre of an abandoned room. 

“i thought i fuckin told you never to come in here!” you could see it in his frenzied eyes, how the trust you’d built up with the beast so quickly came tumbling down. you’d crossed a line and an unspoken rule and no matter how many times the word sorry poured from between your plush lips — bakugou the beast was far beyond the point of forgiveness. he couldn’t trust you, and you couldn’t trust him. “leave!” he’d bellowed, snarled like a warning sign. 

katsuki had lashed out at you in a way you’d never seen before. like a wild animal backed into a corner. he’d shown you fangs and growled at you in a noise you know for sure humans don’t make. “get the fuck out!” he roared until you were trembling, throwing whatever he could get his clawed hands on whilst  splintering wood and shattering porcelain. 

you’d done just that, dashing down flights of stairs in terror while throwing your cape on. 

the inhabitants, his little candleholder sero and tiny clock denki along with the others, had tried to stop you. begging you not to face the cold bitter night alone on your horse but your judgement was far too clouded by your emotions — the hurt and betrayed wounds inflicted by the beast who’s trust you thought you had earned. the snowstorm outside rages with your unstable state, how could he scream at you like that? how could he say those awful things? it’s not long before you’re lost the ice cold and the daunting wolves that assume you’re a prey item like a vulnerable deer instead of a young girl with bambi eyes. 

viscous, wild, teeth and tongue snap at your horse — threatening to wound you both and draw blood. the animal that you ride, in turn, throws you to the ground in favour of its own escape. 

you can’t even blame the poor creature, only fools risk their lives to be at the mercy of a beast.

yet, your beast, your bakugou moved without thinking to save you from a bitter end. you recognise his growls before you see him — and before you know it the limp bodies of wolves that attacked you go flying over your head. their own howls and growls turn to pathetic puppy whimpers as bakugou fights them off, tooth and nail. fighting with all his might to protect you from getting your throat torn out. even if he’d frightened you, screamed at you and broken your trust — he wasn’t about to lose you to a brutish winter and a pack of hungry wolves. the blonde creature fights until his burly body is done and his claws are tainted with the blood of his enemies — wearily looking for you, checking you for wounds in such a gentle way you’re surprised out of your skin. heart racing.

you’ve never seen katsuki look at you that way, as  though he was just as terrified of you dying as you were at the thought dying yourself. its not long before his adrenaline wears off and the wounds he’d gotten from his battle finally take their toll on him.

it gives you the chance to run. to escape. to be home with your father. 

but what would be waiting for you at the other end? a marriage to a man with half a brain and six children to fill the void. people who thought you mad and crazy? you’d made a promise to stay with him, for your father’s life. there was no other choice but to lug bakugou back to his castle using all of your might. to help him. to save him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. 

at least that’s what you’d told yourself as a way of pretending not not to care for him.

piping hot water sloshes around in the pearlescent tub, fit only for royalty. it’s taken you some time to fill it up to full volume with the help of some of the castles staff… or inanimate objects. momo the sweet little tea pot had been working overtime to boil fresh batches until the water level was high enough for the beast. you’re sure that her stout had nearly given out, but for her master, she’d pushed on. her dedication, all of their dedication (the candleholder, the little clock, the pots and pans and foot rests and dusters) make you wonder what had truly become of this place, a crumbling castle so dark and gloomy that it was left for ruin.

was the beast really worth all of this trouble for all of them to stay by his side and endure his foul demeanour?  

then again, why were you also tending to the beast? it’s not as if you enjoyed his company, yet you stay, drawing this bath to help tend to his wounds. the wounds he had gotten as a result of protecting you. 

you spare him your gaze once the bellowing creature ( now unusually quiet ) enters the room; no longer tailed by his animated inanimate servants — nothing but a roll of steam and a wall of silence separating the two of you now. though it’s hard not to look at how well he’s built beneath patches of straw blonde fur. 

katsuki’s arms are burly and toned, his chest is well sculpted as if carved from the very same stone that makes up the beautiful interior of his castle, whilst the angle of the beast’s face is strong, handsome. you wonder what he may look like completely human, if his jaw would still be sharp enough to cut through marble and diamonds. if his eyes would be narrowed and fiery, swirling with the riches of ruby gems. it takes all your willpower to tear your secretive stare away from him while he undresses in front of you, as though you’re not even there, heat growing rapidly in the middle of your face like the epicentre of an earthquake.

water sloshes violently as his hulking frame sinks into the bath, tinging it an ink stain of rosey pink from where it warmly laps over his open wounds — the sound of water hitting the smooth stone floor lets you know that you can turn around to tend to him. you keep your gaze lowered and mindful as you work, wringing a soft linen cloth in a clearer pot of the liquid mixed with rubbing alcohol. “h-hey, don’t do that,” you scold gently, lips falling into an unimpressed frown as the beast moves to lick at his cuts and scratches. bakugou pauses and squints at you menacingly while you reach for the same soggy paw he’d been tending to. you’d laugh if he weren’t so wounded and you weren’t so scared — he looked like a kitten. “i need to clean them properly.” 

an ignorant scoff from the blonde tangles with the soapy steam in the air, only earns him a roll of your eyes and a frustrated glare — his head angling itself away from you because he doesn’t want to give in and admit that your call of action would be right. you find it childish that he would ignore you but take to dabbing the first bleeder that you find with your alcohol soaked cloth, ensuring that it’s completely clean. the stinging sensation at the opening of the wound causes katsuki to roar at you in pain, baring the sharp edge of his teeth as if to threaten you with them.

you jump back, knowing that one wrong move could have you torn up by vicious claws and teeth. “just hold still!” you snap, raising your hands out of the way. “stop being such a baby and let me help you!”

“that fucking hurts, watch it.” he spits hotly, nostrils flared in annoyance. 

beginning to shake from a mix of anger and fear, you throw the bloodied cloth in your hand to the edge of the tub. the beast doesn’t look at you and your own temper flares. your face scrunches furiously and a cool snarl lays on the tip of your tongue — your own way of trying to put out the flames before they end in a disastrous blow out. 

“if you’d just kept still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

crimson roses bloom on the surface of the water and bakugou whirls around sharply, both of your chests rising and falling at the impending explosion threatening to blow smoke into the crowded bathroom. “well, if you hadn’t have run away ‘nd straight into a shitty wolf’s den, then this wouldn’t have fucking happened!” he growls back with the air of a petulant child. 

“well you hadn’t fucking frightened me, i wouldn’t have run away!” your petty mouth surprises bakugou, you almost seem too pretty to curse — from the moment you’d first arrived at the cursed castle; your beauty had been a breath of fresh hair, hope for a brighter future on the horizon but since being cursed, any charm the beast… the prince might have had wore away over the years. leaving a husk of the man he once was, you have him stumped and spluttering for words, causing his staff behind the closed door to laugh.

an argument, though childish and silly, brews between you both like a storm coming from over a hill. neither of you dare to back down, not caring if you leave deeper and more emotional wounds on one another. katsuki doesn’t know how people work and you’re exhausted, missing home — the pair of you a ticking time bomb of disaster waiting to happen. “well… well, y’shouldn’t have been goin’ through my shit in the west wing!” bakugou reacts before he thinks, wet talons grabbing onto the crisp front of your shirt as he leers down, a gnarly growl clawing its way out of his throat to match the nasty sneer on his snout and lips. “i warned ya, shit happens when you don’t listen.” 

at the end of your tether, you forcefully push the herculean tyrannical beast back into the tub — using a surprising amount of might to fully submerge him in the hot water once more. “well you should learn to stop being such a stubborn brat and control your temper!” you’re hardly thinking rationally at this point, sick and tired of letting him think he can bully you into silence and submission… just because he’s big and has claws and sharp teeth that could rip meat from a live carcass. 

you move to shove him again but bakugou acts just as quickly — using his existing grip on you to yank you further into his bath. in a struggle and with a surprised scream that overlays his frustrated growling, you collapse against his furry chest and settle into his lap as water sloshes forcefully about the place and soaks through your dress — weighing down its fabric and slowing your movements. after a few minutes of wet wrestling; katsuki either gives up because of the pain caused by his cuts or refuses to fight you anymore — fully aware of what his size in comparison could do to you.

he slumps deeper into the tub, brooding, and an unbearable tension mounts in the air around you. the position has brought you face to face, breath mingling in the pocket of space and time between you both — above him, staggered forward, with your arms either side of his head for stability, katsuki feels that you’re close enough for him to reach out and just brush a thumb over the swell of your plush lips… gently grasp at your chin and maybe give you a kiss. he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you or why he lashes out at you in place of sharing his true emotions but the beast casts his ruby framed gaze to the side, avoiding entering the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

after a moment, any anger that either or you shared fizzles away like a sparkler doused in a bucket of icy water. shame replaces the fire in your veins and you quickly distract yourself from less than proper thoughts of the beast by get back to work on the bleeders in his arms. “n-now hold still…” you tell him, swallowing thickly which undermines the authority in your voice. “it’s going to sting… so please, let me help you.” your voice falls into a tender whisper as you resume dabbing at his injuries with the rag.

bakugou snarls barks roughly while you clean him  up but soon relaxes into the water, comforted by your soft vanilla scent and the warmth of your thighs around your waist to keep yourself steady. now that he’s no longer directing his anger at you, the atmosphere dissipates into something more affectionate, hearts beating in calm sync — you sitting on his lap looking so pretty while the lukewarm water carves out the shape of your body beneath wet clothes. 

“by the way, thank you for saving my life back there.” 

“you’re welcome,” eyes closing, bakugou lets out a shuddered breath, his voice thick with gravel and bidy fidgety beneath your own. despite the cooler water surrounding you both, the temperature in the room rises like a solar flair — especially when your proximity increases so that you can dab up to the gashes stretching across his handsome fully face. when your eyes meet again, admist the work, the blonde is overcome with the urge to kiss you. he surges forward and presses your foreheads together, a large marred and hand encasing the swell of you thigh to pin you to his lap. the movement is rough, disturbing the peaceful bath water but the kiss he gives you is careful and cautious — slightly chapped lips swooping upwards to catch yours in a cute chaste kiss. 

you jump at the sudden contact, your entire body tingling with release and an excitable heat flashes through you at the brief sensation. you taste the blood in his mouth and salt on his tongue but before you can fully enjoy the moment —  katsuki is gone as quickly as he came. leaning back into the tub with a flushed face. 

it’s like your body misses him when he’s gone; despite never having him like this before. “wait… wait,” desperate whispers pour from between your subtly glossed lips and your bath water soaked hands come up to cup the fluffy edges to his face. “kiss me. kiss me again, katsuki,” 

surprised by the lack of rejection; bakugou’s talons sink further into the doughiest part of your thighs torn between obliging your request and keeping you far, far away from him. no one has ever wanted something like that… like a kiss, from him of all people. a horrid, ugly and undeserving beast. and yet, you borderline beg above him, hardly distracting from the wet glint in your eyes. you want this. want him. “are you… are you sure?” he tries to ask you, preening into your dainty fingers as they comb back his wet fur. 

“i’m sure,” you hum against him, wanting. “please. it’s what i want.” 

for a moment; it doesn’t seem like katsuki s going to budge. you sense his hesitancy, some kind of mental block that makes him hold back even as he leans in haltingly and noses over your Cupid’s bow. it’s like he’s testing his own confidence and your patience wears thin — so you open your mouth to plead, to encourage him only for the blonde beast  to delve deep into the yearning hotness of your mouth. his lips move against yours with a feverish air, unleashing hundreds of years of pent up emotion and revealing just how touch starved he must have been all this time.

from what you can tell, the beast has been alone for a long rime — shunned for his looks and the cool ice cage around his heart. you’re not sure if you care about any of that, not right now, at least. for your body wins the war over your mind and heart, all worked up by the mash of teeth and tongue that from the basis of your kisses. he gives you what you asked for, long and thick tongue pressing into every unexplored crevice of your eager mouth — starting an itch in your lower belly that you know only bakugou would be able to reach. 

having the beast like this, hungry for passion, wandering claws and sharp edged teeth nipping at your lips makes you needier and needier. you sigh dreamily into the sloppy lip locks, losing all control and pushing your hips down against katsuki. rubbing your thighs together over his wide lap is no easy feat, but you try, dying to alleviate the ache brought on by toothy kisses and the possessive sounds he makes when you try to pull away for air. he grunts gluttorally when your clothed cunt accidentally brushes against his impressive bare girth — the only thing separating your sexes being the water logged gusset of your panties, linen and pure white in colour.

you can practically feel his cock twitch beneath your legs as you straddle the beast, peaking out through his golden fur and hardening by the minute. his size should be intimidating to you, just half hard and he’s practically the length of half your arm, even if you were to give it some thought … you’re far too distracted. mind far too hazy — katsuki tearing away from your kiss to stamp a frenzied pathway up your neck and marking it with his claim. the action proves to you that his bark indeed matches his bite when he wants it too, vicious red eyes mapping their way over the unmarked parts of your skin — licking and sucking bruises just beneath the surface that’ll be obvious to the staff in the morning. tender to the touch later on as well.

he doesn’t leave you in pain for too long, lapping over the inflamed areas with his heavy wet tong — a paw reaching out of the bath to settle on the back of your head so he can further relish in the way you weakly hang over him. “so soft….so delicate,” bakugou curiously seeks out more spots along the column of your throat to see which ones make you tick and sigh for him prettily, your warm, wet pussy reacting to his quiet raspy tone and clenching around the water in the tub. with shaky hands, you weave your digits into the roots of golden honey fur in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. dying to taste the beast yet again.

you want more. you want to go further. perhaps it’s the adrenaline from having almost lost your life earlier on in the night or maybe you just want to find some sick way to thank the creature that saved it. but all you know, is that you want the beast — right down to your very core. you whimper in frustration and your pulsating pussy rolls smoothly over the beast’s swelling erection floating in the bath water, it’s not enough to satisfy you when you’re burning for his tender touch this bad. “please,” you coo airly, head tilting where katsuki kisses the point at which your neck meets your jaw, tongue dragging over your pulse point. “please give me more of you.” 

it’s a big ask, you know. to ask katsuki to be vulnerable with you when you’ve just been at each other’s throats. but you’ve always wanted to know him, from the moment he decided to keep you here in his castle — you’ve wanted to know who he really is behind the fangs, claws and fur. what better time than to ask him now, when you’re grinding against him in a bathtub that barely fits him and dwarfs you by contrast. “why?” bakugou murmurs softly; his fur tacking to your wet skin.

“because… i know you want me too. i-i want to give myself to you.” you huff, shivering at the tenderness in his voice which differs to the black claws that rake up and down your inner thighs, sneaking past the hem of your damp skirts to the scalloped edge of your underwear. 

your hands still track their way through his sun kissed fur, lifting his head from your chest to have him look at you. his vermillion eyes drink in every inch of your darling face, puffy lips and doe eyes that glisten under the flickering candle light in the regal bathroom. fucking hell, you were right. he wanted you. ‘course he did. 

“if that’s what you wish…” bakugou’s chest rumbles as he speaks before capturing your lips in a chaste kiss, earning warm pools of your slick through your panties, right against his hard cock. he secures his hold on you and shifts to lift you both from the tub — presumably to continue this in his chambers as you grind and grab at him.

however, you tug harshly enough on his fur to make him falter — droplets of water splattering from his silky coat to the tub when he freezes in place (half out of the tub). “w-wait!” shaking your head, you push him back down into the water. “you’re still hurt a-and shouldn’t exert yourself. stay… let me say thank you and take care of the rest,” a beat of silence echoes throughout the room, katsuki unresponsive to your offer. self doubt invades the cave of your skull over your brain, perhaps stopping him had given him time to think this through and regret. perhaps he was caught up in the moment and the beast truly did not want you. you can’t tell, you haven’t been able to read him thus far. his fold demeanour being all that you know. “u-unless i misread this and have pushed past your limits. in which case i’m extremely sorry—“

steeling yourself and putting on a polite smile, you prepare for the worst — pushing yourself from bakugou’s lap in the face of silent rejection. yet, as you turn to leave, a clawed hand darts out to grip your waste and forcefully shakes water from the bathtub. the action keeps you cemented and spread over bakugou’s naked, wide lap and his expression morphs into that of kicked puppy, as though he regrets what he’s done to you already. or not responding to you sooner. 

hesitancy occupies the electrified air, dancing in a confusing concoction with the desire that once buzzed through it. 

“it’s not that i no longer want you or want this,” the blonde admits gruffly, keeping his eyes on the waves in the water and toying with a loose thread of your sodden skirts. “i haven’t been… kind to you since the start of your stay. i don’t even know if i fuckin’ deserve to have you like this,” in spite of holding back, katsuki’s lungs burn with brightly coloured lust and affection, in shades of fiery red and sunset orange. the steam taking residence in the tiled room trapping you both in the unmistakable heat of desire. “i want you. i do. but ‘m havin’ a hard time believing’ that you want the same. i don’t deserve it. i’m hideous.” 

“that’s not true,” you tell him earnestly, cradling his furry wet face between your pruning fingers in an attempt to reassure him. even though he’s at his most vulnerable, your heart flutters against your ribcage at katsuki’s honesty — the beast finally opening up to you. if that doesn’t fan the flames of your desperation for him, then nothing else will. “you’re not to me, bakugou… and if it’s my words you don’t believe, then let me show you. let me help you understand.”

silence resumes as you let your words sink in, hoping that at least one of them has touched the beast’s heart as he has done with yours. 

and all it takes is one small nod from katsuki to know that you have — forcing your way into his mouth ( with his consent ) once more, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the taste of bloody wolf against his teeth from earlier. the kiss is even more passionate than before, the both of you letting go of your inhibitions, swapping spit while your hands slip from the fur atop his head to run over the softer parts of his body. massaging and mapping out his strong pecs and beefy arms, appreciating every inch of the blonde beast so he never doubts your yearning for him again. 

the grinding resumes too, especially as katsuki’s affection-starved body grows used to your debauched touch and hungry kisses — head hitting the very end of the bathtub with a dull thud, sending water over its edge and to your right. you both move with more vigour, the blonde becoming more comfortable in matching your pace and thrusting upwards when you buck down. oxygen evacuates your brain, making room for the inexperienced creature below you every time the heavy, solid length of his cock drags slowly over your increasingly throbbing clit hidden behind panties drenched in both water and fresh waves of arousal. 

even with his sprouting confidence and belief that you crave him as much as he does you — the beast moves too slow for your liking, leaving it up to you to take matters into your own hands. quite literally scrambling into the depths of the water to shred off your panties keeping you away from smothering  bakugou’s monsterous cock with your silken slit. 

his length bobs upright in the water, slapping against his fluffy tummy while is bright red tip breaches the surface — shiny from evidence of his arousal. the pair of you share a hungry moan at the sight, a glossy white smearing over blonde fur, katsuki hard and heavy. he’s unlike any man you’ve ever seen, ribbed entirely along his shaft with balls that hang extremely low and full of seed. despite feeling his size against you before, your mouth falls open in slight shock at the sight, instantly watering — katsuki’s dick could be mistaken for a third leg, chubby and a mushroomed at the tip. you’ve never had a partner so big before.

a tapered whimper, so quiet that you almost miss it, bubbles on the seams of bakugou’s lips as he bites them with his pointed animalistic teeth. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i don’t know what i’ll do.” he warns huskily, throat bobbing beneath the sandy fur at his neck. “s’been a while… and i know it’s not like the humans you’re used to. it’s…big. so i understand if you don’t want to…”

“it’s perfect.” you purr lowly and cut him off, the sound rivalling that of the beast’s, leaning forward to spit on his sore red tip as it oozes precum and lewdly rubbing your palm over his cockhead and shaft to spread the lubricating mix all over him, letting it mingle in the water. “you’re perfect. i can’t wait to take you, make it fit. i want to be the one about to make you feel good after so long.” 

a strangled howl forms deep within his chest at your admission — his extremely large body palpitating wholly as you take the entire weight of his cock into your dwarfed hand, barely able to fit all of your fingers around him. you feel for the prominent vein in the underside of his shaft, pressing down on it while your remaining fingertips toy with the sensitive ridges and bumps that decorate him. 

when you look up at bakugou the beast with beautiful, big eyes he feels like he could die here. happily. in beast form and all. he could never be human again or break his curse and he’d be content to have you looking up at him like this, with his huge  cock in your tiny hand, be the last thing the blonde ever sees. “fuck,” he snarls tip bleeding hot arousal over your knuckles and into the tub, knees shifting apart to give you more room — sending water flying out of the bath. 

you inch forward again, breathing warmly against katsuki’s damp lips as he begins to weaken beneath you with every pump of his dick. “i can’t wait to see how you feel, i’m going to get myself ready for you. is that okay?” you check with him, even though his mane is tousled about with how fast he’s nodding. whispering faint pleads against your wet Cupid’s bow. 

“please… just hurry it up,” katsuki lets his temper flare briefly, almost as hot as the water that soaks his fur and your clothes. lukewarm at best. he rambles for the most part, brainlessly even. lackadaisically rutting  into the pathetic small circle your little fist barely makes around him — the force of his hips causing water to splash up against your dress. “‘m ready for it…” he adds begrudgingly. 

the sight of the beast’s submissiveness and desperation brings a smile to your cherry bitten lips, clit throbbing and cunt quivering around the water you sit in. “i’ve got you, don’t worry…” assuring him gently, your mouth hangs open and follows the sweet howl uttered from your partner’s lips — its volume just above the explicit, wettish sounds of your hand jerking off the entirety of his shaft. even though you don’t want to, you only slightly let up on the pace of your palm smoothly gliding in and out of the water ( around katsuki ) to pull him towards your bare pussy.

his hips canter and chase your heavenly grip, fat droplets of his precum flying about the place and into the tub from just how much the beast is leaking. bakugou feels his mind sink into a hazy fog when you lift your hips to hover over his girth, the fuzziness shrouding his brain showing on his muzzle and handsome face. bliss lines his vermillion framed eyes, those same eyes that flutter shut in anticipation. waiting for you to put your honeyed pussy on him and make him yours.

katsuki can’t contain the feverish pants that escape him when you guide his clawed paws to hold your hips and help lower you onto him. the closer your heated core gets to his seedy cock, the harder it becomes to breathe and the humid he exhales starts to mingle with your own. 

both of you hiss pitifully in unison at the first tap of the blonde’s monsterous cock against your sticky, needy mound. your aching clit instantly catches on the ridges of his dick deliciously, causing you to crumple against the beast’s marshy furry chest — gripping onto locks of gold around his neck to ground yourself, bring yourself back down from an immense and otherworldly jolt of pleasure that bounces from the tail end of your spine to the top of your skull. you feel as though your brain has been knocked about, bakugou languidly thrusting upwards to drag his length through sluice, puffy folds and grind against your clit — clearly seeking the heat of your pulsating sex. 

“s-so good, katsuki,” a sheen of sweat condescends against your skin, glazing you in a pearlescent shine while you throw your hips back and forth over the blonde’s fat dick. he’s in no better state than you, talons sinking into the peachy flesh to cope with the way you move feverishly above him. sweat beads at his hairline, murderous ruby eyes growing heavy and kisses and god, you think he looks so perfect like this. when his remorseless resolve comes crashing down and he takes everything that you have to offer. “think you’re so beautiful,” 

rose pink tinges hotly at his cheeks while he shakes his head — denying your praise. ropes of saliva forming connections between his sharp white teeth and his strawberry tongue while he tosses his head back at your praise, letting out a stream of enchanting moans. katsuki’s adam’s apple bobs between small whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ punctuated by the slap of water hitting the floor from your sinfully synced bodies. he doesn’t let up on buck of his hips to meet your sodden sex, your puffy folds spread perfectly either side of the meat or his shaft — allowing your arousal pearling pleasure bud to graze his cockhead rhythmically. causing both of you to quiver in ecstasy.

“‘m not,” the beast denies, drawing his hips far back until they meet the bottom of the tub before jutting forward — his entire length slipping through your soaked pussy lips until his breeders balls tap at your hole. “g-god… think you’re gonna make me cum…g-gonna make me…fuuuck!” he chants, eyes snapping open to capture your gaze.

the tail end of his words form a soft symphony of whines and animalistic chirps, like music to your ears. “i want you to cum, you’d be so pretty cumming against me, katsuki…” you continue to taunt him, following his movement by cheekily driving your fluttering entrance down against his bulbous cockhead — trembling at its thick diameter. you still have no idea how it’ll fit. “give it to me.”

you take his massive paw in your tiny hand, hooking his claw onto the bosom of your dress with trusting eyes. the sound of wet material ripping echoes about the bathroom, the blond having torn right through the damp front of what you wear. you slump forward next, pebbled nipples brushing pleasurably over katauki’s fluffy toned chest. his fur is slick and clings to the water droplets on your glistening skin — especially with your bodies submerged under the lukewarm water. 

“you… y’don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” bakugou slurs deeply, grinding the tip of his dick against the ring of muscle at your entrance as you glaze his painfully with sweet the honey nectar dripping from your cunt. he’s so close he can practically taste it, all he needs is one little push. so you take his hand, leading him into a mistified fog of love and lust — reaching up, you drag a tender finger over the dark black horns that spiral from between roots of sun kissed blonde hair and fur, revelling in the way katsuki’s breath hitches. “d-don’t… they’re fuckin’ sensitive…”

all you do is hum in response, practically pressing your chest to the beast’s face as you learn further up and teasingly drag the length of your tongue over one scaled black appendage, taking the second horn between your wet, pruney fingers to jerk it like you would his cock. “they feel good when i touch them?” there’s a certain husk to your voice that puts the man on edge beneath you, colourful language littering his tongue, spurts of precum clinging to the insides of your folds. “what if i…?”

your hot, warm mouth encapsulates the very tip of his horn and your cheeks hollow out so that you have the room to suck him down your throat — mindful of its jagged surface. you feel so full and in all the best ways, the thickness of his horn causing a swell in your throat. his bright red tip, feverishly leaking precum, just barely bullying its way past the tight ring of your entrance, tapping against your sticky pussy even under water. you’re drooling from every hole, every place that you could possibly be fucked in and it’s all for him — willingly sucking him down… its for him.

���fuckin’ hell… sweetness, please. when ya touch me like that ‘m gonna—“ that's what makes you swallow around the beast as his sensitive horn presses against your uvula, spit pouring out against it. 

even as his eyes disappear into his dark skull at the feeling , katsuki drools over you as though you’re a prime cut of meat — a claw drifting up from the fat at your waist to the now naked and pliant mounds of flesh at your chest. he squeezes your breasts tightly in his monstrous palm, each point of each claw digging into your skin until electric dopamine crackles quickly across your synapses — dizzying your brain and ability to function. his grip is so sinfully tight that it’s enough to draw blood, crimson rose petals inking their way between the valley of your breasts and blowing on the surface of the water filling in the tub.  

you don’t stop kissing and sucking on his horn — tasting the ash between each scale, like firewood. he doesn’t stop rutting against your sex, sloshing sounds fluttering through the air. it’s your moan around him that sets the beast off, choked and spluttered; the sweet symphony guiding bakugou through the rough terrains of his high like he’d done so for you outside. static erupts over his brain and numbs all four of his limbs while a white as bright as the evening’s snowfall flashes behind hazy red eyes. his blonde head of hair drops weightily to your damp shoulder; hips stumbling against your cunt, as thick ropes of his early release hit your clit underwater.

with a prideful your lips pull off of his horn, listening happily to his washy, uneven mewls. even though he hadn’t been ready to cum just yet, it was by no means a small orgasm. katsuki’s load is heavy, still coming in hot, viscous waves as you suddenly slip down on his throbbing shaft — using the mix of water and orgasm as lube to help you with his size. “t-takin’ me all at once… still cummin’,” bakugou gasps like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the black in his eye eclipses the red. “you gotta be careful… ‘m big, sweetness. don’t wanna hurt you.” 

katsuki bakugou, the beast, is perfect. you know that now, whether it’s because your brain is fucked up with sex crazed hormones or because you genuinely do care for him deep down. either way, you think that he’s perfect, and you want him every way. his cock stretching your tight heat has you delirious, you think the burn of his size might even kill you as it pulses in your lower belly.  

“w-what makes you think you might hurt me?” you drawl and your sopping walls accept every inch of him with ease, reminding him of how lucky he is to have you. to be able to fuck you. it’s almost as if you’re made specifically for the beast — wandering into his castle with intention. not just for your father. 

there’ll never be another beauty like you and he’ll never be able to let you go after this. 

you ooze viscous nectar against katsuki, blossoming for him like a flower made for the coldest of winters while he presses into you — deeper and deeper. until you’re pelvis to pelvis in the warm tub. “‘cause...you’re so small compared to me, sweetness,” he explains over the lump in his throat — a growl escaping from behind his larger, menacing set of teeth. “such a fuckin’ dainty…pretty… little thing. fuck… if we do this i ain’t sure i’ll be able to hold back.”

lowering your hips and clenching hard, you lock the blonde into your heat selfishly, even though your legs are about to give out and you feel faint from taking the entirety of him in one go. “but that shouldn’t stop you from having your way with me, beast.” you murmur. “i don’t want you to hold back. you’re perfect and i want you just the way you are,” taking his paw in your palm, you draw it back to the claw marks struck lovingly against your chest — letting him feel the strong beat of your heart between your breasts. “my heart is racing, bakugou,” you croon and nuzzle your nose against his cutely, earning a light purr from the man beneath you. “i think… i think you make me feel this way.” your heart has never fluttered for someone like this before, not for yo shindou or any other man back home. you feel so small and safe with katsuki, even if he seems scary on the outside — you know that he’s tender and always means well.

that’s all the permission katsuki needs, really. hearing you tell him that you want him, even if it’s in his most carnal and instinctive way, is the same as hearing the magic word to him. with revitalised motivation, the blonde beast plants his feet against the smooth base of the tub and thrusts all the way into you with one fluid motion — hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out in your weeping pussy. each movement is easily guided by his previous release, forming a foamy white ring at your entrance. he wraps a hand around the back of your head, claws massaging your scalp to soothe the cloying cries caused by the new angle as he keeps you pinned to his body.

bakugou relishes in the warmth of your syrupy walls clenching tightly around his bricked up length but manages to find strength in pulling from your selfish slicked up hole to set a slow, calculated pace to the way he bucks into you — dragging his monstrous girth along your ribbed walls and pleasure points. the utter power behind his hips quickly have water splattering over the edge of the bathtub and tear through babyish yelps escaping from between your cherry-bitten lips. the beast takes control of your body like a king or a prince with a strict rein over land. ruling over every thought once rattling around in your mind.

your shaking hands take hold of sun-kissed tooth’s of his fur, ones that muffle your little laments and whines as katsuki fucks you down on his shaft — taking you to the high heavens and back. cloud nine just within your reach. oxygen eludes you, leaving your lungs vacant and struggling to keep up with everything the beast gives you — carving a pathway for his big seedy cock against your insides with every feverish buck of his hips into yours. “feels…feels s’good!” you shriek desperately, trying your best match his rhythm. “so deep, makin’ me feel so full!”

“already? haven’t even given you a proper load yet,” bakugou chuckles between condescending moans, drunk on the way it feels when he stretches you out around him the deeper he goes, poor pussy changing to accommodate his breath-taking size and whatever love he has to give you. as a result, the beast fills you until you’re practically a glass overflowing with love and pleasure. “could plug you full with dick ‘n cum, ‘n it still wouldn’t be enough for you. would it?” 

using a free hand, the blonde drags his claws grip down to your fleshy ass and spreads your cheeks apart, growling as the webs of slick tying them together break over his fingers — dampening them just as much as the water from the bath. his grip allows him to bully himself further into your molten core, moulding you perfectly up and down on his cock. “love how you feel around me, sweetness,” the praise smooths over your brain, wiping it of any feedback you have for the blonde and all you can do is gargle passionately in ecstasy. “don’t think i deserve to… fuck a pretty girl this tight…”

you squeeze around katsuki where your words fail you, juices dripping down his length into the bath nastily until it bathes his breeders balls as they clap against the curve of your ass repeatedly — heavy and full of a second load of cum just for you. even though he pushes and smears the first against pleasure spots dotted along your velvety walls. shaking your head, face hidden in water-logged fur, “y-you’re the only one who deserves to fuck me, katsuki, have this tight pussy— oh!” the tail end of your words come out as choked, lost to the echoey bathroom and splashing water as bakugou sinks his fangs into your bare shoulder.

he bites you, not only to mark you and taste the sheen of saltine sweat on your skin, but to pacify himself — help him cope with each flutter of your wet pussy and angelic simper. a delectable pain blossoms underneath the surface of your skin, and you weave your nimble fingers into bakugou’s fur to keep him in place, letting him bite you hard enough to draw blood. wounding you just as much as he had been wounded. 

ruining the bath with more than just sweat, juices and cum.

bakugou fucks you like he loves you, like he’s been waiting thousands of years to pour locked-away affections from his soul into yours. limbs slip and slide against the walls of the tub, filling the homing air and layering over the vulnerability lying in it. you’re sure you’d see this hidden truth in his vermillion eyes if you had the strength to look up from his chest too.

“keep talkin’ to me like that, swear i’ll ruin you ‘n this pussy for everyone. myself… the next man that has you,” bakugou growls as feral as the animal he’s been turned into. even with his body pressed hotly against yours, joined at your sticky sexes while you’re chest to chest ( sensitive nipples brushing each other’s), he still can’t see how much of you he owns. neediness and yearning spark between your compressed bodies as they dance together underwater, skin slapping on skin and water spilling everywhere. “she’ll never be able t’forget the way i make her fuckin’ feel…”

“oh god, please. please—“ you feel like you’re in the verge of tears, overwhelmed by everything that is the beast. that makes up katsuki bakugou. his size and thickness drive you insane, how he feels thrusting into your gummy walls and meeting the hilt sends you up a wall. not to mention the scent of his body, his fur, permeating your skin possessively and sinking into your pores. “don’t want anyone else after you, wanna have you inside of me forever. only you inside. just so pretty when you’re fucking me, katsuki…” you admit through earnest and shaky hiccups. 

despite rambling, your words feeling tacky on your tongue like someone’s stuffed your mouth with cotton, katsuki seems to finally get the hint. he makes you feel this way, he makes you see stars, he’s the one that you want — fully and undeniably. without a care in the world for how he looks. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be letting him rapidly rock his hips into you with lewd squelching sounds emanating from your ravaged pussy. you wouldn’t bounce up and down on his aching dick to chase him with a spasming, slippery hole when he just about pulled out of you, losing control of the movements of his hips — spreading the arousal beading on his cockhead against your insides.

“f-fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me…”  

the edge of the beast’s words develop a sharp shakiness to them, a sheen of sweat painted over your bodies from both the humidity in the bathroom and the exertion of your activities. you were living for the burn his fat girth created as it pushed its way past your puckered hole every time he jutted upwards or you weakly fucked down — bakugou knew you wanted more and he’d give it to you too. 

“y-you’re prettier. especially when i’m the one fuckin’ you,” bakugou whimpers seraphically, using his strong hand on your wet ass to lift and drop you in his milky white dick — not caring about the water that got everywhere, only focusing on matching you to his length jackhammering in and out of your pathetically creamy pussy. you spasm, keeping him a prisoner in your cunt while he spews copious amounts of precum inside of you and into the tub — coaxing a fresh wave of blistering hot essence out of you. 

all of a sudden, the beast uses his brute strength to  shift your positions with his cock still nestled within you and your back splashes against the remaining water in the tub — dampening your back and the crown of your hair. katsuki doesn’t let you sink too far back into the water, instead, holding you up by the far at waist, large paw curling around it entirely. “see that? my cock bulging in your tummy. s’all me, sweetness. will only ever be me. you’re mine, all fuckin’ mine for all of time.” he whispers above you lecherously, hazy vermillion gaze floating like driftwood down to your soft stomach. your eyes follow his, breath caught in your throat at the sight,  the shape of him outlined there as he pounds into your g-spot lovingly, dotting your eyes with constellations. “hold onto me, sweetness. gonna make us cum.” 

quickly, you wrap your ankles around the smallest part of the beast’s waist — cunt unlocking and locking around the curve of his dick at random with the new position. choking the precum out of him, opaque fat drops pearling at the slit every time katsuki’s hips lunge forward powerfully. “i love you,” tears begin to brew in your glassy eyes and gather in your lashes like dew drops on a leaf, streaming down the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with emotion. you’re not sure if you cry because of dopamine, lust and happy hormones jolting from your brain to the tips of your toes or because of the way katsuki slots his body against yours — drowns you in everything that is him. 

either way it doesn’t matter, because you don’t know what you’d do if the beast stopped loving you like this. making love to you with every push of his cockhead against sluice walls, every swipe of his tongue over your swollen lips and every scratch of his claws against your supple body. 

“i love you,” you repeat, the taste of your orgasm rushing over the horizon as you claw desperately for something, anything to ground you. you wriggle and write underneath him, sending more water out of the tub, stomach twisted in delightful knots and only manage to steady yourself by grasping bakugou’s thick black horns above you. “i want to be yours forever…b-because you’re perfect ‘n feel so good. ‘n no one will care for me like you do…”

“‘hmyfuckingods…shit!” bakugou swoops down to lick curse words into your impassioned, temperate mouth, weakened by your warm touch around his sensitive horns and your own words mewled out like a promise to the cursed monster of a prince. watching the beast, your beast, break above you hardly soothes your wrecked insides — honeyed juices drooling down your thighs, dripping into the tub in a viscous lava flow each time he pumps into you. parting between kisses and through your wet lashes, you witness the way sweat drips from his hairline and fur, the way his dark brows are furrowed in concentration ( focused on bringing you to the top of your peak ) and how his arms flex in order to drag your pulsating pussy up to meet his thick cock — skin smacking and breath mingling in the musky air. 

his golden fur glistens under warm candle light and if you looked close enough, you could spot the twinge of pink at katsuki’s cheeks from his exertion. he’s beautiful on top of you, fucking you, that you’d be happy drown here in this bathtub if it meant he was the last thing you ever got to see. “tell me how much you want me,” bakugou snarls against your swollen lips, spouting the covetously loaded words against your strawberry tongue before he slopping kisses you again — teeth clashing with yours, incisors nipping your bottom lip until it’s bloody while he maps out the taste of sex in your mouth. 

as if to coach an answer out of you,  his knuckle slips between your connected bodies to toy with your throbbing clit — being mindful of his claws, not wanting to cause you any pain when you’re so close to reaching your high. it’s hard for you to speak when his cock slips into you like magic and attacks your throat with a bounty of love bites in purply-blues. his intensity washes over you in waves, scorching you and soothing you all at once. over all the harsh moments once shared between you.

instinctively you squeeze at his horns and search for words, but bakugou answers for you — hardly peeling away from your, damp hot skin while he pulses to life inside of you. “cause i want you. want you so fuckin’ bad that it burns me. hurts me.” snarls and pushes his creamy cock as deep and as far as it can go, practically splitting you open, spreading your thighs wide ( as wide as the tub will allow ) to make room for his wide frame and hips between them. you can just tell how much he wants you, how it tears him apart pieces you back together, by the way he grinds against you — fluffy pelvis brushing against your puffy clit. with the hope to push you over the edge. “gods… you make me wanna lose it…” 

the beast picks up a pace and a thick strand of your mixed arousals swings between your bodies where the blonde beast plugs your spasming hole, the milky liquid finding purchase on your inner thighs and the veins that spiral down his shaft. the both of you start to lose it together, water slipping and sliding everywhere as bakugou moves to sit on his haunches, all-encompassing grip on your waist lifting you from the shallow depth of the tub to keep you on his cock — pussy squelching over his swollen and red shaft. 

in response, your back bows away from the bottom of the tub until you’re chest to chest once more and your lips part with “i want you, i want you, i want you! n-no one else!” you chant loudly, the words nearly lost over the sounds of the beast passionately slamming into you over and o er again. “k-katsuki! think i’m gonna… so close—! cumming—!” 

using two knuckles, bakugou pinches your clit between them and sends you hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. that’s all it takes, him purring to you as white flashes behind your glassy eyes. you squirt hard against him, into the tub, clear liquid spurting from your ravaged sex and covering the beast’s fur in a messy layer of your release. there’s so much of it, that it nearly forces his cock from your quivering hole — but he can’t bare to be away from you, to waste his own orgasm. for the damn in the beast’s lower belly breaks as well; an earth shattering high comes crashing down on him and forces his bulking furry frame to collapse over yours — hips stuttering and water rushing out of the bath.

katsuki tucks his burning face into your neck one final time. his nostrils flare and chest heaves as he cums with an frightening roar, arms encircling your head to keep you still and pinned beneath him while katsuki unapologetically ruts into your ruined heat; dragging his bulbous cockhead deliciously against your silken walls as his seed pours into you in a large, unapologetic amount. potent and thick white floods your womb, cloying against the ribbed parts of your pussy.  so much so, that you feel your tummy bulge even as some of it runs down your slit and between your ass cheeks — into the tub below.

neither of you move, completely weak and shaky in one another’s embrace — limbs heavy from water that clings to bakugou’s fur and your skin. if you could speak and your ears were no longer ringing from your world ending high, you’d tell the beast that you love him. that you care about him. that you never want to leave him.

if his state was any better than yours, you’re sure he’d do the same.

but for now, you grasp onto his wet back and rake your hands through the masses of wet golden fur to tug bakugou, the cursed beast, closer to you. never letting him go. pulling him in to press a lasting kiss into his damp, muzzle. hoping your subtle affections will make do instead.

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 16.9k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi loves! A little late on this New Year update, but I' m happy to be able to share Chapter Thirteen with you all! This is a fluffy, sweet update, with a side of angst and a little spiciness I hope you all had lovely holidays, and have the best 2024. As always, I love to hear what you all think of these updates, and again, thank you for your patience with this update. Lots of love from Dana! 💕

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Steadying her breaths, Y/N slid the skirt fabric of her cranberry-colored velvet dress between her fingertips, shuddering involuntarily as another family came through the front door of the rec center, bringing an icy blast of outside air into the lobby. In her other hand, she had some sort of wintery champagne cocktail, a sprig of rosemary tickling the tip of her nose every time she took a sip from the fluted glass. Compared to Taehyung’s previous photography expo, there were twice as many people. It was during the inky evening, and everyone was dressed up in their holiday finery– jazzy Christmas music filling the festive space. Currently, she was standing by herself towards the back of the room, breaking away from Taehyung to get a fresh drink, and to collect her thoughts. 

As if on cue, a shiver rolled down her spine delicately, her eyes catching sync with a pair of narrowed, sharp, golden-green eyes from across the joyfully decorated room, all of the breath being forcibly withdrawn from her lungs. Everything around her turned to a blur; her cheeks had flames licking at the flesh, and her heart swelled three times its size behind her ribcage. Ever-so-subtly, Yoongi lifted his champagne flute a few centimeters into the air in acknowledgement, sending a smirk and a wink her way. 

Y/N felt the flush in her cheeks heat up the back of her neck, too, cutting the chill that was periodically blowing into the room. She nervously cast a wide-sweeping glance around the room, paranoid that someone had caught the brief, but charged interaction– but amongst the sea of dozens of hybrids and their families, she couldn’t spot any of her other six boys. Which was odd, no doubt, considering their clinginess or the fact that at least one of them was always hanging out around the minibar.

She visually located the leopard hybrid once again, his focus still on her with great amusement all over his delicate face, and Y/N allowed herself to fully take in her love’s appearance leisurely, now that she was sure she wasn’t being carefully watched by one of the others. 

Apart from his sparkling, sharp feline eyes, his hair was tucked behind his ears meticulously in feathered pitch-dark, shoulder length waves, showing off several shiny silver hoops threaded through his earlobes. His spotted ears, of course, perked up and alert as if trying to listen for her shallow breaths from where he leaned against the wall by the bathrooms, his elegant figure on display in the black satin button down he was in. Dragging her eyes down his body slowly, meaningfully, she subconsciously bit down on her lip as she soaked in the way his dress pants hugged his slim legs, the way one of his strong, talented hands was tucked into a pocket, before her once-over returned back to Yoongi’s stunning face, fixated on the fullness of his mouth. 

At once, she remembered the way his lips felt against her own. First sweet, ripe with fulfillment– then turning feverish, desperate, wanting. Instinctively, perhaps, Yoongi’s tongue flicked out to moisten the flesh of his lower lip, Y/N recalling how it felt to have it gliding against her own, and before she could get too lost in that memory, she promptly snapped out of it and shot Yoongi a stubborn scowl. He was teasing her on purpose, she knew it.

Turning on the heel of her black pumps, Y/N tried her best to rein in her lewd thoughts by stuffing a Christmas cookie into her mouth, nearly choking on the dryness of it. It was probably high time for her to go and find Taehyung again, anyways, and with her and Yoongi’s relationship status both still murky and very much a secret, she didn’t want to risk getting too close to the leopard hybrid that night. Not when she felt like pushing him into the nearest supply closet to kiss the wind out of him. 

“Darling, pass me one of those gingerbread dudes, will you?” Y/N flinched in total shock when she felt a clever palm slide across her upper back and settle on one of her shoulder blades, the clean, outdoorsy scent of Hoseok filling her senses and making her stiffen awkwardly. 

Wordlessly, Y/N plucked a cookie off of the platter, peering upwards and sideways as she offered it to her fox hybrid as normally as she could. As if she wasn’t just thinking about Yoongi’s tongue down her throat. 

Hoseok’s brilliant cocoa eyes were glittering mischievously, all of the multicolored lights decked around the room making his wavy mahogany hair seem more auburn than ever. He, like Yoongi, was dressed smartly, a stark difference to his typical athleisure. A simple white button down, an even simpler sporty charcoal blazer, and matching dress pants. Hoseok did have some funky, embellished loafers on, however, true to his tendencies to pick out flashy or colorful statement pieces for his wardrobe. He looked amazing– sexy, dangerously so. 

“You see Tae-tae’s pictures yet?” Hoseok asked over a bite of cookie, leaning his hip against the minibar and glancing around the room. ‘Tae-tae’ was a sort of condescending nickname Hoseok had begun to use in reference to the Kodiak hybrid, but Y/N secretly found it kind of cute. 

“No, I haven’t. He said he wanted to make sure they put up the right frames and set it up the way he wanted it before he showed me,” Y/N reached up to adjust the slightly-askew collar of Hoseok’s dress shirt, her icy fingertips brushing over the golden skin of the base of his throat, the fox hybrid shivering almost imperceptibly at the contact. 

Still, with her focus on Hoseok, she could feel Yoongi’s eyes lingering on her burning holes into the back of her head. And as if Hoseok could read her mind, he cleared his throat, Y/N focusing back on the pools of caramel swirling around in the fox hybrid’s irises; inquisitive, intelligent, and kind. 

“So, how are things? You know, with… Yoongi?” Hoseok purposefully whispered the leopard hybrid’s name, though Y/N had no doubt that even then, Yoongi was likely completely dialed into what her and Hoseok were talking about it. Y/N winced, remembering the brief text conversation she had with Hoseok nearly a week ago. 

On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.

Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 

Y/N: um, what do you mean?

Heart racing, Y/N felt nausea welling up in her gut as she watched three little dots appear on her screen, Hoseok speedily crafting a response. Everything that happened between her and Yoongi was in the music room, which was professionally soundproofed, but there was an off-chance that Hoseok might have caught them in the hall in front of her bedroom moments ago– and if that was the case, they would be screwed. 

Hoseok 🦊: Idk, things seem weird between you guys. Tense

Hoseok 🦊: Did you have a fight or something???

Y/N let out a breath that could blow down a house. So, Hoseok hadn’t caught her and Yoongi red-handed before they could figure out how to explain their… changed relationship dynamic. Once again, she had raced to conclusions. Y/N had been an idiot not to realize that the other hybrids definitely picked up on the odd distance her and Yoongi were suspended in. 

Y/N: Yeah, I guess we had a few disagreements recently. I talked to him tonight though, we’ve patched everything up

Hoseok 🦊: Oh, good! I don’t like seeing you so sad 🥺

Hoseok 🦊: and Yoongi’s cooking has been bland or bitter lately. Even the coffee sucks

Y/N: you could always do the cooking you know, honey

Y/N: thank you for worrying about me Hoseok 🦊💕

Y/N bit her still kiss-swollen lower lip thinking about her fox hybrid, probably cozy in his bed in the basement, the space heater no doubt blasting, sleepily texting her to make sure she was okay after her piano lesson with Yoongi. Contrary to Hoseok’s teasing nature, he was always looking out for Y/N in his own way. It made her feel warm all over, as she reached for her nightstand to switch off her lamp, when her phone chimed again– this time, a message from a different sender. 

Yoongi 👼🏻: sleep well.

Y/N: love you, angel 

Yoongi 👼🏻: I love you too, my silly girl

“Earth to Y/N,” Hoseok chuckled, squeezing the meat of one of her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, Y/N realizing that she had been staring at the fox hybrid’s neck absently while she got lost in her thoughts. “Where did you just go?”

Using a gentle tap on his wrist to bat Hoseok’s hand away from her heated cheeks, she snapped back to the present, cocking her head and resuming her task of fixing the collar of his shirt. 

“I’m right here, honey,” Y/N murmured, trying to figure out how to either dodge his earlier question or figure out how to dance around the truth. “Everything’s fine now. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t burnt the coffee lately?”

Hoseok snorted, hands shooting out to wiggle his fingers against her ribcage, tickling her sides and making her giggle in response. Concern dissolved from Hoseok’s eyes at the sound, one of his russet ears flickering playfully, relenting on his tickling attack by hooking one of his elbows around Y/N’s. 

“Let’s look around. I think Jinnie misses you,” Hoseok changed the subject, dropping his serious demeanor and going right back to his default cheeriness with that whistle tone of his. 

“Oh really? You didn’t miss me at all, just Seokjinnie?” Y/N teased, feeling Hoseok’s full tail brush the back of her thighs through her tights. “Here I was, missing you, and you just came to ferry me over to someone else!”

Again, Hoseok snorted, though Y/N could swear a peachy blush bloomed across his cheekbones. 

“You know, darling, you’re getting better and better at flirting these days. Maybe you’ll be on my level in a few months,” Hoseok quipped, making Y/N use their hooked elbows to nudge his side in embarrassment. 

“Who said I was flirting?” Y/N mumbled, under her breath and to no one in particular. 

Hoseok whistled again, towing her along as they weaved through the crowd of hybrids and their families. Amongst the sea of bodies in the room, the only other hybrid of hers that Y/N could spot was Jeongguk, who’s antlers were visible towards the front door of the rec center. Y/N suspected he was attempting to sneak out for a smoke. 

Hoseok dragged her to a corner of the room, near another table full of Christmas cookies and cocktails, where Seokjin and Jimin were lingering with little cups of alcoholic eggnog. Both of them, of course, looked impossibly handsome, their ears immediately perking up as they no doubt caught Y/N’s scent. 

Seokjin turned first, dressed in a navy suit Y/N helped him pick out to compliment his fiery eyes, a few buttons of his cream-colored oxford shirt undone at the top to accommodate the wideness of his chest. Y/N discovered that finding shirts that fit the jaguar hybrid’s frame was rather challenging– one size would be too baggy for his trim waist, and another not quite large enough for his broad shoulders. Despite that, however, he always managed to look absolutely perfect. 

Seokjin was grinning, his cheeks rosy from the eggnog, his eyes dragging up and down Y/N’s form in a way that had her squirming under his scrutiny. It was all she could do earlier to talk him off a ledge when she came out of her room in a dress, and not swaddled up in ski wear. Now, with alcohol flooding through him… his gaze was a bit more heated as opposed to disapproving. 

Jimin, on the other hand, was mid-sip of his drink, nodding in acknowledgement as her and Hoseok appeared in front of him, looking sharp in a classic black suit and brand-new shiny loafers. The coyote hybrid even broke out some of the jewelry he had brought with him from Montana; silver bracelets and hoop earrings, the holiday lights glinting off of them. Seeing Jimin so dressed up had her feeling dizzy, as his usual uniform was rugged blue jeans and well-worn tee shirts so he could comfortably take care of the animals in the stable. As if he could read her mind, Jimin winked at her, setting his empty glass down on the table with a wry smirk. 

“Uh, has anyone seen Tae in the last fifteen minutes? I still haven’t seen his photos, he disappeared on me,” Y/N cleared her throat, overwhelmed by the three incredibly handsome, incredibly well-dressed hybrids surrounding her like a pack of wolves. 

Seokjin shook his head with a pout, probably thinking that he had somehow disappointed her by not having information, and Hoseok had busied himself by stacking more cookies onto his cocktail napkin. Really, the only one who actually warmed up to Taehyung was Yoongi, and Y/N wasn’t about to seek out the leopard hybrid when fantasies of him were still running rampant in her mind. 

“I just saw him a moment ago, talking to the club leader. He had a big frame under his arm, I think he was likely swapping it out for another,” Jimin lifted his nose in the air and took a delicate inhale, Y/N wondering if he was trying to locate Taehyung by scent. 

“Tae-tae will come out of the woodwork when he’s ready. I wouldn’t dare try and find him before he’s ready, remember the time you walked by him editing photos on your laptop? I thought he was going to have a stroke, ‘they’re not done yet!’,” Hoseok mimicked Taehyung’s deep voice, a playful look on his face as Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“Even if you’re being an ass about it, you’re right,” Y/N admitted, glancing around the room once more to try and see if she could spot Namjoon or Jeongguk. “Looks like Joonie’s hiding from me too.”

“No he’s not. He’s just in the bathroom,” Hoseok took Y/N’s empty champagne from her, replacing it with a new one. Ever since Halloween, Hoseok had made quite impressive progress in being able to hang around Namjoon without flinching or blanching. “The elk is the one you have to worry about. He might hotwire your car to get out of here, he’s been adjusting his suit all night like it’s giving him a rash.”

“He doesn’t even know how to drive, Hoseok,” Y/N grumbled, though the thought had crossed her mind. “You’re gonna get a stomach ache if you eat all those cookies, by the way.”

“I’m just making sure I eat enough calories for my meet!” Hoseok exclaimed, green-and-red sprinkles stuck to the corners of his mouth as his eyes went wide. 

“Your next meet is in four days,” Seokjin pointed out helpfully, Hoseok nearly choking on his bite of frosted sugar cookie. “You don’t need to be carb-loading now.”

“Jinnie, at least you know my schedule,” Hoseok clapped a hand over Seokjin’s back, making the jaguar hybrid nearly spill his eggnog all over the front of Y/N’s dress, causing him to hiss sharply. 

“Quit doing that! I almost ruined her pretty dress,” Seokjin yanked on one of Hoseok’s triangular ears, a yelp coming from Hoseok pitifully. Y/N, however, was too busy bashfully staring down at her dress that Seokjin apparently thought was pretty. 

“You two better cut it out, or we’re going to get thrown out,” Jimin rolled his eyes, pushing honey hair off of his face with disdain. If there was one thing the coyote hybrid couldn’t stand, it was the others drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. 

 Snapping out of her daze, she herded the three hybrids away from the refreshments table and the cocked eyebrows of several onlookers, one hand on Jimin’s back and the other around Seokjin’s bicep, mindful of the drinks in their hands. 

“So, when do you think we can get out of here? I miss my sweats,” Hoseok leaned against a cinderblock wall, eyes narrowed on photographs on display across from him; a collection of landscape photos by a young calico hybrid girl, who was proudly showing her work to her family. 

“That’s up to Tae. We’re staying as long as he wants,” Y/N again tried to find Taehyung in the busy room, and finally spotted him over in the corner where his work was in his last expo.

He appeared pensive, hands tucked into the pockets of his emerald green velvet suit jacket, eyebrows pulled together as he bent low to stare at one of his pictures. Instead of catching him off guard and peeking at his pictures before they were ready, Y/N fished her phone she had tucked away in Seokjin’s suit pocket for safekeeping, smiling softly at the startled purr he responded with. 

Y/N: I’m sure they look beautiful, can we see them now?

Taehyung paused, probably feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, lowering his eyes from the framed pictures on the wall to check his phone. A whisper of a secret grin formed on his lips, his wild dark curls covering the upper part of his face as he began to type out a response.

Tae 🐻: Okay, they’re ready. They put everything in the wrong order and frames, that’s why it took so long for me to fix

Y/N: Heading over to you now, can’t wait!

“Thanks for holding onto this for me, honey,” Y/N handed her phone back to Seokjin, who promptly tucked it back into his suit pocket, shaking his head as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Tae said he’s ready, should we check out his pictures?”

Hoseok began muttering, still not entirely warm and fuzzy towards the Kodiak hybrid, but followed her, Seokjin, and Jimin to Taehyung awaiting them. Along the way, she was able to snag Jeongguk by his shirt cuff– he had managed to ditch his sport jacket and was just in his black button down. 

“What, did you go to the car and leave your jacket in there when you went out to smoke? Won’t you be cold later?” Y/N scolded, tugging on his cuff with a reproachful look. Jeongguk simply scoffed, but allowed her to drag him across the room. 

“You keep forgetting we run hotter than you do,” Jeongguk responded, using his free hand to flick her forehead softly, something he seemed to really enjoy doing lately. 

She knew she didn’t have to call out for Namjoon or Yoongi. The former would appear when he wanted, considering he and Taehyung were still not the friendliest to each other, and Yoongi would always show up when she thought of him– as if they had some sort of telepathy that connected them. For all Y/N knew, perhaps they did, stranger things had happened in her life. 

Thinking of the devil, her leopard hybrid slunk from the shadows, meeting her and the others by the window where Taehyung was waiting. Yoongi offered her a private side-eye, taking his time giving her a once-over. While the others weren’t looking, she mouthed ‘stop that’ to him, before promptly tearing her attention from him in order to put it all on Taehyung. Breaking free from Seokjin and Hoseok, Y/N approached Taehyung with an excited expression, already reaching out to hook one of her arms around his waist. 

“Mm, you look nice in this color, Tae,” Y/N murmured lowly, using her fingertips to brush along the soft velvet of his suit jacket. Indeed, the dark green brought out the deep red in his eyes, and complimented the honeyed shade of his skin. 

Taehyung leaned into her embrace, chuckling softly at her compliment. Y/N was too preoccupied soaking in every microexpression and how beautiful he looked to immediately take a look at his pictures on the wall, enjoying the scent of sandalwood mingling with fruity champagne that was coming off of Taehyung so temptingly. 

“We don’t have to stay for much longer, I know Foxy wants to leave…” Taehyung said, in his signature whispery voice; a private moment between the two of them. 

“We leave whenever you’re ready, Tae! Don’t listen to Hoseok, he just likes to whine,” Y/N frowned, pinching Tae’s side for emphasis. Behind her and to the left a little ways away, she heard Hoseok squawking in disbelief. “Okay, I’m dying to know what your photos look like!”

Clearing his throat, Taehyung took a step forward, Y/N slightly stumbling along as her arm was still linked around his waist. It was then when she could get a long-awaited look at Taehyung’s work, which was lit up with twinkling Christmas lights draped around the partition wall the frames were fastened to. 

Y/N didn’t know what to focus on first. Compared to his previous expos, where there were only about four to six images on display, there were eight rather large prints on the wall this time, all arranged in a circle around a ninth photograph, the largest of all. Taking a breath, Y/N released her hold on Taehyung to edge a step nearer. 

The photo in the center was one of their house, taken recently at night, by the looks of it. Leaves of the willow trees were stripped bare, and the grass in front of the porch frosty and crystallized. Though the picture of the house was in black and white, it was still apparent that most of the lights in the house were on– Y/N could see Yoongi’s and Jimin’s bedroom lamps on, and the chandelier in the foyer was visible. Even the Christmas lights and garland wrapped around the porch and pillars could be detected, and the home looked merry and festive, full of life. It reminded her, compared to how it looked through Taehyung’s lens, of how she had longed the house to be so lived-in only days before she actually adopted any of the hybrids. 

It seemed that Taehyung really loved their home. He always managed to sneak a picture of it into his presentation at the expo, and each time it made her chest squeeze with an emotion she could not match to the sensation. Blindly, she extended her hand backwards, searching for Taehyung, and his broad palm immediately slipped into her grasp. 

The other pictures were all portraits of himself, the other six hybrids, and Y/N, and each portrait was in a horizontal frame– a black and white outtake of each of them when Taehyung took their ID photos, and a colored candid directly next to it. At the top of the circle around the house was Y/N’s set of pictures; the ID outtake of her looking sheepish, hand over her chest as Hoseok’s hand in the frame was pulling a flyaway hair out of her berry lip gloss. The colored one, in juxtaposition, was Y/N slightly slumped over her morning cup of coffee, dressed in her Stevie Nicks-type clothing before she headed off to work, completely unaware that Taehyung was snapping pictures of her. 

Y/N had grown used to Taehyung taking pictures of her by now, so she wasn’t totally surprised that she was part of his expo. That said, she still couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed that she was on display, and that all of her hybrids were completely ignoring their own portraits to point and exclaim at Y/N’s. Taehyung squeezed her hand gently, and Y/N pretended she didn’t care what the others were saying about her portrait, and instead studied the others. 

Y/N had already seen the ID outtakes of the other hybrids, as she had helped Taehyung pick the best ones out to send in for the physical copies of the IDs, but she delighted in seeing them again, and was even more fascinated by the candids she hadn’t seen before. Jimin’s candid was him in the backyard, riding Vista around the exercise pen at sunset with a carefree expression, the colors of gold and orange warming her up from the inside out. Below him was Hoseok, grinning wryly at someone off-camera after an afternoon run, a sweat towel around his neck and a water bottle clutched in his hand– Y/N could practically hear the picture. Next was Jeongguk, though the picture taken of him was from behind, and apparently by Taehyung positioned at the threshold of Jeongguk’s bedroom door. Only a hint of Jeongguk’s side profile was visible, a cigarette poised between his lips as he leaned over his balcony, eyelashes almost brushing his cheek as he read from his journal. 

“Little voyeuristic of you to stand in my room taking pictures of me, don’t you think, bear?” Jeongguk lifted a pierced brow, scrunching up his nose in an accusatory manner. 

“It’s not like you didn’t hear or smell me standing there. You could have told me to fuck off,” Taehyung responded blandly, Y/N extremely surprised that he used such language in a public setting. Jeongguk, too, seemed somewhat impressed that Taehyung challenged him back. 

At the bottom of the circle were Taehyung’s self-portraits. Instead of taking a picture of himself in the mirror like he had for his very first expo, his “candid” was one of Taehyung laying on his side in the music room on the floor, headphones on, listening to his record collection. From the angle that the photo was taken, Y/N figured he had placed his camera on top of the turntable. It was a lovely picture of him, the soft mid-morning light filtering in from the windows and striking one of his eyes just so that the viewer of the image could pick up on the carmine hue of his irises. 

“These are really gorgeous, Tae,” Y/N felt her throat grow thick, emotions beginning to overwhelm her as she examined picture after picture of her boys. “How did you come up with this idea?”

Y/N waited for Taehyung’s response while she moved onto Yoongi’s pictures, her heart skipping a beat or two. Pressing a hand to her mouth to contain her grin, she realized that in Yoongi’s candid– which was of him putting away groceries in the pantry– half of her body was in the frame, handing Yoongi boxes of sugary cereal Namjoon favored. Yoongi looked soft, in loungewear that he typically donned to the grocery store. 

“We were given a theme to work with…” Taehyung said ambiguously, waiting for Y/N to soak in every photograph and figure it out on her own, perhaps. 

The final two, Seokjin and Namjoon, might have been her favorites. The eldest hybrid’s photo was him curled up in the breakfast nook with a copy of Pride and Prejudice, his tail wrapped around his waist, and a steaming cup of coffee in one of his hands. Y/N was fond of the particular expression Seokjin was wearing in that photograph, deep concentration and immersion with his thick eyebrows pulled together, hair mussed off of his forehead because he’d play with it while he read.

Finally, to the left of Y/N’s portraits on the top of the circle was Namjoon’s, and in stark difference to his stern-looking ID outtake, he was all soft edges and dimples in the colored photograph. It was the only picture that Y/N remembered Taehyung actually taking, as it was right over her shoulder while her and Namjoon were in the middle of a chess match, the fireplace roaring behind Namjoon while he kicked her ass yet again. Considering Taehyung and Namjoon still barely tolerated one another past a begrudging “good morning” every now and again, the picture perfectly encapsulated how much Namjoon could soften around others when his guard was down. 

By then, Y/N was on the verge of tears, so overcome with love for each of her hybrids that she couldn’t help but turn on her heel to face-plant directly into Taehyung’s chest, squeezing him until an animalistic wheeze came from the depths of his lungs. 

“Y/N, did you see the picture he took of me? I should make that my Instagram profile picture, what do you think?” Hoseok crowed from behind her, no doubt clocking how attractive he looked in it. “I’m glad you didn’t pick that other one for my ID, though. My left ear was drooping.”

Y/N was too busy pressing her face further into Taehyung’s silky black button-down, squashing down tears as best she could. She always bought Taehyung’s prints after an expo, but all she wanted then and there was to pull each frame off of the wall and squirrel them off to her car like a bandit. In her head, she could see all of the pictures lining the walls up the stairwell…

“She okay?” Namjoon joined the clump of them standing around Taehyung’s exhibit, his voice beside her and Taehyung as she held onto the Kodiak hybrid for dear life. 

Taehyung grunted in response, one of his hands smoothing down the back of her head soothingly, though she could feel his chest rumbling in what she assumed was minor amusement. 

“She’s just sappy,” Yoongi helpfully volunteered, his gravelly voice sounding bored and a bit distant. Last time she caught him out of the corner of her eye, he was leaning against the window a few feet from everyone else. 

“Oh! All of your subjects are here, Taehyung?” A new voice joined the conversation, Y/N recognizing it as the woman who ran the hybrid photography club. Vaguely mortified, Y/N pulled herself together enough to release Taehyung and face the woman, who was admiring the photos of Y/N, her hybrids, and their home. “You’ve improved so much these past couple of months. Your exhibit turned out wonderfully– sorry about the frame mixup, by the way. Lost in translation!”

Taehyung simply shook his head, his neck flushing with all of the attention on him, one of his fists bunched up in the fabric of Y/N’s dress, right where her waist met her hip. 

“So, did you tell them the theme of tonight’s expo?” The woman prompted, smiling warmly at Taehyung like she was more than used to his quiet, reserved nature. 

“I think he likes for us to guess,” Hoseok piped up, biting his tongue mischievously as Jimin lightly stepped on his foot with an agitated twitch to his sandy ear. 

“No guesses?” The woman placidly asked, folding her plum-polished fingers delicately around her champagne flute. Taehyung stiffened beside Y/N as if to brace himself, and both her and most of the hybrids either shrugged or shook their heads. 

“Well, the theme was family, of course! Of home!”

Y/N thought she might have squeaked out a surprised ‘oh’, but she couldn’t be sure with the ringing in her ears as she processed that very significant scrap of information. She wasn’t the only flabbergasted one, every other hybrid had varying levels of disbelief and pure shock on their faces. Taehyung wasn’t one to be brotherly with the rest of them, in fact he usually avoided interacting with them if he could, so for the Kodiak hybrid to include them in a family-themed exhibit was dumbfounding, though incredibly sweet. 

“Here I was, thinking it was expectations versus reality,” Hoseok broke the stunned silence, always the one to bounce back immediately when something unexpected unfolded. 

The group leader snorted over the rim of her champagne glass, Taehyung’s posture loosening up once the tension was broken, Y/N composing herself once more by allowing a giggle to escape at Hoseok’s remark, once again grateful for the fox hybrid’s ability to bring ease into any sort of situation. 

“Oh dear! I forgot to check up on how much champagne we have in the back room. I think we may have underestimated how many people would enjoy the signature cocktail,” the woman interrupted the somewhat-awkward giggling amongst her, Hoseok, and Seokjin, though Y/N had a suspicion she was making something up so she could let them all have a private moment. “Enjoy the rest of the expo!”

With that, she disappeared into the festive crowd, and Y/N began staring lovingly at Taehyung’s pictures once more. Some of her boys took that as their cue to be dismissed, Namjoon and Jeongguk fading into the masses of people in search of a fresh cocktail, Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin moving on to check out other exhibits. Yoongi had long since evaporated as soon as the awkward giggling began minutes prior, Y/N managing to catch him heading towards the bathroom with a hand over his mouth to hide his amusement. 

So, she was left with just Taehyung in front of his photos, suddenly at a loss at what to say to him, if anything at all. 

“Um… sorry. She can be a little corny,” Taehyung murmured, Y/N craning her neck to meet Taehyung’s eyes once he spoke. Snorting, she nudged Taehyung’s hip with her own. 

“Actually, she reminds me a bit of my mom. I guess she can be corny, too, though,” Y/N admitted, watching Taehyung step in front of her and block her view of the pictures on the wall. 

“You really like them? You don’t think anyone minded that I displayed pictures of them, do you?” Taehyung asked vulnerably, a subtle pout jutting out his lower lip as he made eye contact with her intensely. 

“I don’t think anyone was upset, no! I mean, you know Jeongguk. He was just being a smartass, as per usual,” Y/N put both of her hands on Taehyung’s shoulders, brushing off imaginary dust in an attempt to relax his tensed muscles. “They turned out beautifully. I love them, Tae.”

“Do you want to bring these copies home? The club leader said I could take them,” Taehyung asked shyly, apparently convinced by her words of encouragement. 

“Absolutely. I’m going to hang them up as soon as we get them back home,” Y/N replied cheerily, squeezing his shoulders for emphasis. Home. Their home. 

Taehyung then grinned, wide and splitting his breathtaking face in two, Y/N sliding one of her hands from his shoulder to his forehead, brushing his curls out of his eyes, going as far as tucking it back so his entire forehead was exposed. Taehyung eagerly leaned into the touch, and Y/N imagined if his tail was long like some of the other hybrid’s, it would be wagging back and forth happily. 

“Ah, I’m excited to go home now. It’s too crowded in here,” Taehyung spoke with his eyes shut, cheek smushed into Y/N’s palm. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm. Can we go now?”

Y/N rocked upwards as much as her high-heels could allow, placing a gentle kiss on Taehyung’s cheek that she wasn’t cradling in her palm, pulling away swiftly with a goofy grin. In the wake of the kiss, left behind was Taehyung gawking, and a stamp of berry-colored lip gloss in the shape of her lips on his cheek. 

“Help me get these down from the wall, and we’ll head home, okay Tae?”

“Wait. The painfully shy one, the bear, is okay with a bunch of us coming over on his birthday? We can always postpone, make it a New Year’s party instead,” Alice, over Facetime with a sheet mask over her face disguising her utter disbelief, squawked. 

“I mean, that was my suggestion to him, too. Obviously everyone is busy on Christmas Eve– Ben and Roy with Daisy, and obviously you with little Kai, Laura,” Y/N had her phone propped up on a sack of flour in the kitchen, the morning of December 23rd, on her weekly 3-way call with the Santos twins. “But he was the one who insisted everyone come over on the 30th. I almost keeled over.”

“He must be getting more comfortable around everyone, Y/N! That’s really great, I’m happy for him,” Laura exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she wrote something down in her day planner– probably organizing talking points for her next family vlog. 

“It’s either that, or he’s too considerate. I mean, ever since his photography expo a week ago, it’s been non-stop last minute gift shopping, wrapping, decorating, and baking. I think if I were hosting a party tomorrow, I’d go insane.”

“Aw, so he probably noticed you’ve got a lot going on. He’s a sweetheart, huh?” Alice cooed, Y/N clapping excess flour off of her hands as she nodded in agreement. She was elbow-deep in gingerbread at the moment, and she was pretty sure she had flour in places that were unspeakable. 

“You guys have your tree up already, right? Namjoon and Jeongguk helped me drag the box with ours in it last week. Let me tell you, it’s so much easier to have two 170-pound men help you lug that thing up from the basement rather than my two possibly anemic cousins,” Y/N snorted, recalling how easily the wolf and elk hybrids carried the comically ginormous box containing the fake Christmas tree up the basement stairs. 

“Are you trying to brag right now?” Alice accused, her eyebrow visibly cocked even under the facemask that covered her expression. “We get it. They’re hunky.”

“Shhh! Alice!” Laura hissed with embarrassment while looking up from her planner, Y/N simply waving her hand in the air at the comment. 

“Don’t sweat it, Laura. Everyone’s out. My mom took them Christmas shopping in her minivan about an hour ago,” Y/N airly chuckled, the mental image of her mother shepherding each of her boys into a crumpled little van that morning to take them to the local mall. For what, she could hardly guess. 

“You’re lucky your mom is obsessed with hybrids,” Alice said, going back to applying red varnish on her nails. 

“I’m lucky that she got them out of my hair long enough to wrap the stockpile of gifts I have hidden in the fucking attic,” Y/N countered, blowing hair out of her face as she slid the last sheet of gingerbread into the oven. “I love them, but my god. Up my ass like a window shade lately.”

“It’s because you’ve been sneaking around with gifts like the goddamn Grinch! What, did you need a crowbar to pry open the attic door? Did you find the ghost of Paul Revere up there?” Alice exclaimed, as if the reason for the hybrid’s increased clinginess was due to her making excuses to go up to the attic through Seokjin’s room routinely. 

“That would be sick, actually. It is fucking creepy up there, though. I might get Jeongguk to help me sort through all of the junk up there in the spring, just in case there’s a demon hiding in my grandmother’s old hat collection,” Y/N relished in the sound of Laura’s lilting laugh, something she found she missed more than anything those days. “So, what is Santa bringing for Kai, Laur?”

“Oh, Santa is bringing him one of those plastic play-kitchens. You know, with the fake food and little bowls and whatnot. A tricycle, too, which I fear might mark up my floors until Tyler can bring him outside in the spring to ride it around the block,” Laura played along, toying with one of the braids skimming her collar bones. “He’s going to be three next year, so no more rattles…”

“My little nephew!” Alice pouted pitifully, pretending to blink away tears at the camera. “He’s growing so fast, soon Auntie Alice will be taking him for his first driving lesson.”

“Dear god, anyone but you,” Laura scoffed, looking horrified. “Love you, Al, but you’re not the first person I’d pick to show him how to parallel park.”

The girls continued to chat for 10 more minutes, until Y/N pulled the last batch of gingerbread men out of the oven and set them on a cooling rack. It was about time for her to tackle wrapping the rest of the boy’s presents and stick them under the tree before they returned from the mall with her mother. After shooting off a few texts to people she wanted to have over for the Christmas party/Taehyung’s birthday, Y/N began shuffling back and forth between the attic and the wrapping station she had set up in the parlor, quickly beginning to sweat between the flannel of her festive pajamas and the blazing fire in the room she was wrapping gifts in. 

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, as Y/N had papercut-raw fingertips and at least 35 gifts under the tree, and her Christmas playlist had looped three times. As it was approaching evening, and it was the holidays, after all, Y/N poured herself a glass of wine before she started tackling the stockings that were hanging over the mantle, all crowded together. Her mother had graciously dropped stockings off for her and the hybrids that morning, each with crocheted names on the fabric. 

Y/N wasn’t used to being away from all of the boys at once, for that long, since she adopted them. Usually, there was always one or two of them hanging around at home with her, even if the rest were at a club. At first, she was a tad relieved to have some time to talk to her friends freely over the phone, be as klutzy as she wanted without one of them flipping their lids, or even getting control of the wireless speaker; but as evening had the the house growing darker and quieter, she felt it was time to give her mother a call for her ETA with the boys. 

While she was dropping little knick-knacks into Jimin’s stocking, the cellphone balanced between her cheek and shoulder beeped morosely– her mother sent her directly to voicemail. Cursing, she continued to fill up the stockings, trying a different number. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Yoongi’s voice came through the receiver, though the lovely melody of it was muffled by commotion all around him. Even through the phone, she could hear Hoseok’s loud voice, and the rushing noises of a car speeding down the highway. 

“Nothing’s wrong, angel, just wondering when you’ll be back. My mom wasn’t picking up,” Y/N smirked, heart feeling full that she could detect concern in his tone. 

“W-we, uh, okay, oh! Um, hold on, Y/N,” Yoongi fumbled with his phone, Y/N cringing as she listened to the commotion on the other end of the line. 

“Honey? Sorry, my phone died fifteen minutes ago,” her mother’s voice suddenly replaced Yoongi’s, and Y/N had no doubt that she had stolen his phone from him. “We’re on our way back now. You better lock yourself in your room though, the boys have some wrapping to do.” 

“What do you mean? I thought you were getting gifts for them,” Y/N stilled, elbow-deep in Namjoon’s stocking, dropping the Barnes and Noble gift card into the garment with shock. 

“I finished shopping for them weeks ago, honey. I’ll drop their gifts off tomorrow. Jesus, honey, I gotta focus, okay? I hate driving at night,” Y/N could hear someone honking at her mother, who typically drove like a geriatric hospital patient. “Go hide in your room. Namjoon says he has a house key, so don’t leave the door unlocked or anything!”

“Wait, mom–” Y/N cursed when her mother hung up on her promptly, hurriedly placing the last few items into Namjoon’s stocking. “Oh, my poor boys… been with that loon all day…”

Swallowing a large mouthful of wine, Y/N blinked at the stockings hanging over the fireplace, the thirty second phone call finally sinking in. If her mother didn’t take the hybrids to the mall to pick things out for themselves, did that mean they were shopping for her? Squeaking, Y/N snatched up her bottle of wine and scrambled to her bedroom, giving the parlor a cursory glance to make sure she had stacked all of the gifts under the tree properly. 

It only took fifteen minutes after the phone call for Y/N to hear car doors slamming from her spot on her bed, drinking her wine straight from the bottle like a cavewoman. All she wanted was to greet them at the door, feel Seokjin squeeze her tight, hear Namjoon diligently hanging the house keys back up on the wall hook, and listen to Hoseok chatter about his day without her. 

She strained her ears, hearing someone shove the key into the door and slide the deadbolt back, before absolute chaos echoed throughout the house. Seven different voices, all at once, filing into the foyer, the sound of shoes being kicked off and plastic bags crinkling against one another. Already, Y/N could hear Namjoon calling out orders on where to put everything, and she thought she heard him ask the room if anyone knew how to wrap. Snickering into her hand, Y/N took another swig of her wine, footsteps growing softer as they all headed into the parlor. 

“Christ almighty,” Y/N sighed, praying that no one would cheat and peek into their stockings. Her eyes snapped open when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. 

“Coming,” Y/N jumped up from bed, bumping her hip sharply into one of her bedposts, swearing quietly. “Fuck me.”

Cracking the door open, she almost immediately, and embarrassingly, melted on the spot, Yoongi’s cold-flushed face appearing in front of her. 

“Hi,” she greeted shyly, opening the door a bit wider so he could lean on the doorframe. He was still wearing his dark blue puffer jacket, a fond smile on his lips. “Missed you.”

In the couple of weeks her and Yoongi’s relationship had… changed, the two of them hadn’t had too much alone time. In fact, the previous Friday, she couldn’t even have her weekly piano lesson with him, as she had got called into work when her boss fell ill– so Y/N had to deal with secret longing glances and the ‘normal’ amount of cuddling and affection around everyone else in order to avoid suspicion. Y/N had no idea when she would even be able to have a conversation with Yoongi about how to break the news to the other hybrids. All she knew was it was near-torture to not be able to kiss him whenever she wanted, to scream from the roof that she loved him. 

“Did you?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, teasing light dancing in his beautiful hazel eyes, Y/N offering him a sardonic grin. 

“Don’t be a dick. You know I did,” Y/N whispered, desperate to retain some privacy. Hopefully, with her Christmas playlist still booming and looping in the parlor, along with what sounded like Seokjin and Hoseok loudly bickering, that their moment would go unnoticed. “How was it today? You guys didn’t buy me stuff, did you?”

Yoongi scoffed, totally affronted, all while tucking a loose strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear tenderly. The contact had her shivering like she was standing out in the cold in her underwear. 

“Who else would we get gifts for, silly girl? Each other? Please,” Yoongi cocked his head, likely noticing how Y/N was inching closer and closer to his warmth. “I noticed all of those boxes under the tree. What, you’re allowed to get us stuff, but not the other way around?”

“Stop pissing me off. I’ve barely gotten to talk to you alone in two weeks,” Y/N huffed, ready to close the door in his face at that point, no matter how much she wanted to squeeze him until he couldn’t breathe. 

Yoongi chuckled, tucking his hands into his jacket pocket lazily. Though he appeared nonchalant, his expression was soft in ways that had her heart aching. 

“I’ll come and get you when everyone’s done wrapping. Seokjin wouldn’t shut up about watching Christmas movies with you all day,” Yoongi said, Y/N feeling her cheeks heat up at the mental image of her seven boys tying bows around things that they picked out for her. “Oh. We brought home some food from that Indian restaurant by the mall for dinner, too.”

“Ooh, I love that place. We’ll eat while we watch the movies, after you’re all done,” Y/N couldn’t help but pout a little knowing that their alone time was nearly up, already light on the balls of her feet to collapse back onto her bed until he came back to fetch her. “Okay. I won’t keep you, then, angel.”

Before she could turn, Yoongi grabbed her by the waist, a sexy, deadly purr rumbling from his chest as he glanced down at her through his eyelashes. Heart hammering, she found herself frozen in time, completely under his spell. 

“Hold on, baby,” Yoongi warned softly, his fingertips scorching even over the fabric of her flimsy cotton pajamas. “Gimme a kiss first.”

Though his voice was gentle, his statement was a demand, not a request, and Y/N had no qualms giving him what he desired. Besides– it’s what she wanted more than anything, as well. Wanting to wipe the expectant look off of his face, she stepped even closer to Yoongi, looping her arms around his neck.

Easily, she leaned her body weight onto the leopard hybrid, melding their chests together without prompting, watching his eyes flutter shut and lips part slightly in anticipation. Not even caring if anyone else could walk by at any moment, Y/N decided to tease Yoongi a little, giving the tip of his nose a kiss and pretending to pull away. Quietly growling, Yoongi tightened his hold on Y/N’s waist, taking matters into his own hands by slotting his lips against hers, Y/N releasing a sigh she hadn’t realized she was holding onto. 

The kiss was chaste, for the most part, void of the desperate passion from two weeks ago, after their confession. Yoongi hummed into her mouth, thumbs rubbing circles into waist, Y/N feeling like she was free-falling as he held her. Y/N wanted more, pressing herself closer to him until they were completely flush, Yoongi grunting as her hips collided with his. 

“Mmph– easy, baby,” Yoongi groaned quietly, rearing his head backwards so Y/N couldn’t plant another kiss on his mouth. “Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

“I don’t care,” Y/N whined, tugging the ends of Yoongi’s hair at the nape of his neck, making him shiver and shake his head. 

“Yes you do, sweetheart,” Yoongi countered, removing both of her hands from around his neck, though pressing a kiss to each of her palms before releasing her wrists. “As much as I’d like to indulge you in your earlier request, now’s not the time.”

“What are you talking about, earlier request–” Y/N began, before Hoseok was loudly calling for Yoongi from the kitchen, making her spring apart from Yoongi like he shocked her with a wire. 

“I’ll come get you in a bit, sit tight, okay?” Yoongi gave her waist a quick squeeze, winking, before setting off down the hall before she could catch him by his coat, his tail curling behind him languidly. 

In a daze, Y/N shut her bedroom door, stiffly perching on the end of her bed and taking a deep swing from the bottle of wine she left on the floor prior to Yoongi’s interruption. It was several moments later when it dawned on her– the “earlier request”– when she bumped her hip against her bedpost, she exclaimed “Fuck me”. 

Christmas morning, Y/N miraculously woke up without a hangover, despite the amount of cocktails she had during the Christmas Eve movie marathon she had with the hybrids. In fact, she jumped out of bed like there were ants in her pajama pants, eager to get a head start on everything she had planned for that morning. After freshening up, she headed straight for the hallway, only stopping to peer into Namjoon’s room– the wolf hybrid wasn’t in there, though. She found him, along with Seokjin, in the kitchen already, both still in their pajamas and fixing up their morning cup of coffee. 

“Morning, you two! Merry Christmas,” Y/N made her way to the refrigerator, taking out the sheet of French toast she had soaking in custard overnight. “Oh, you preheated the oven for me, Seokjinnie? Thank you!”

Seokjin hovered behind her while she slid the sheet into the oven, Y/N feeling his body heat as she straightened up, no doubt waiting for a hug, as he always did every single morning. Before she could turn to do so, she squeaked, feeling Seokjin wrap his arms around her middle and rest his chin on her shoulder, tail curling around her thigh. Apparently, he wasn’t keen on waiting that morning. 

“Oof– gentle, Seokjin, I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N giggled, ticklish where he was nudging the tip of his nose against the side of her neck affectionately. 

“When do you think Foxy is going to drag his carcass up from the basement?” Yoongi strolled into the kitchen, going right to the coffee bar and taking two mugs out of the cabinet, dutifully making a cup for himself and Y/N. “I think between him and Jeongguk, they drank an entire handle of Tito’s.”

“If he’s not up before breakfast is ready, I’ll go down there and get him. He’ll be pissed if he doesn’t get any bacon,” Y/N shuffled around the kitchen island awkwardly with Seokjin still clinging to her back, his purring growing louder and louder as she smoothed her hands up and down his forearms clasped around her middle. “Speaking of, did you wanna make the bacon, Seokjin?”

With that, the jaguar hybrid finally broke away from her, and Y/N accepted her mug of coffee from Yoongi so she could sit beside Namjoon at the breakfast nook. The wolf hybrid said nothing as she scooched close to him, practically reading over his shoulder, furrowing her eyebrows at the book he was reading. 

“Is that Latin, Joonie? What are you reading? I didn’t know you could speak Latin,” Y/N rapid-fired, Namjoon patiently putting his book down so he could answer her questions. 

“I don’t speak Latin, actually. This is Jeongguk’s, he asked me to take it out of the library from him. He can speak Latin, apparently… I was just leafing through,” Namjoon pushed the book towards Y/N so she could check it out, the cover ancient looking. It appeared to be some kind of book of prayers. 

“How the hell did he learn Latin? It’s not like they teach hybrids how to speak a dead language in the labs when they’re kids,” Yoongi commented, giving Jimin a nod as the coyote hybrid came into the room. 

“I just picked up a book and figured it out, asshole,” Jeongguk was right behind Jimin, apparently, shooting Yoongi a dirty look. 

“Let’s not bicker on Christmas, okay? Chill out,” Y/N frowned, Jimin mirroring her disapproval from across the room. “We’re just waiting on Tae and Hoseok, right?”

“I’ll get Hoseok,” Seokjin volunteered, placing the tongs he was using to flip over pieces of bacon in the skillet off to the side, disappearing from the room before Y/N could protest. 

“Taehyung’s up. I heard his shower going,” Yoongi remarked, taking out plates for the food. 

“I can’t wait for you guys to open your gifts!” Y/N squirmed in her seat, inadvertently wiggling further into Namjoon’s space. The wolf hybrid simply remained still, allowing her to snuggle up to his side as much as she wanted. “I’m excited to see what my mom got you all too. Hopefully nothing crazy… like goats or any other kind of barnyard animal.”

“Ooh, but then we could try goat yoga, Y/N darling!” Hoseok made his grand entrance into the kitchen, looking a little disheveled with his wavy hair sticking up in multiple directions, but grinning nonetheless. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yeah, it would be fun to shovel goat shit or get gored to death by Black Phillip, too,” Jeongguk drawled, already stacking bacon onto his plate with a grimace. 

“Party pooper,” Hoseok muttered, grabbing a plate for himself and sticking his tongue out at Jeongguk while the elk hybrid has his back to him. 

Tae silently entered the room, taking up her free side on the booth, waiting for Yoongi to come around with the sheet of French toast, Y/N giving him a hair ruffle when he told her “Merry Christmas”. 

Y/N ate as fast as she could, eager to get on with the gift-giving portion of the morning, and for once she was finished eating before any of the boys. She ditched them in the kitchen, heading straight to the parlor to light up the Christmas tree, start the fire, and switch on the TV station that was running holiday specials all day. She was in the middle of fluffing pillows on the couch when she stopped to stare at all of the boxes under the tree– it would probably take them at least two hours to open everything. She could tell which ones were for her; they were all clumsily wrapped with an aggressive amount of tape, and it made her smile goofily. 

“What’s that?” Jeongguk was the first to come into the parlor, collapsing on the leather recliner and pointing at the TV with disgust. “Ugly bastard.”

“Um, the fucking Grinch? Have you never seen this movie?” Y/N gasped in disbelief, Jeongguk looking at her like really. “He’s not ugly. He’s misunderstood!”

“Y/N, please,” Jeongguk groaned, rubbing his temples like she was aggravating him. Actually, agitating Jeongguk was becoming her new favorite hobby. 

Everyone filed in shortly after Jeongguk, taking spots on the floor and couch, and after a few moments of having to describe what The Grinch was to everyone but Yoongi, all of the hybrids were staring at her expectantly. 

“Okay, to make this go faster, why don’t we all open things at once? Here, I’ll grab something for each of you…” Y/N sprung up from her spot on the couch, startling Jimin beside her enough for him to yelp. 

Y/N started off with the gifts her mother had dropped off for the hybrids, plucking up the little envelope that was for her, as well. Once she returned to her seat, she found that they were all still staring at her. 

“Well? Go ahead! Just stick the wrapping paper in one of the trash bags over there,” Y/N pointed to the black bag by the tree, praying to the sky that her mother got normal gifts for them. To hasten the process of all of them slowly peeling back paper like her mom had wrapped grenades for them, Y/N tore her envelope open with vigor. 

“Oh my god! Guys, my mom must have gotten my grandfather’s old station wagon fixed at the shop, this is the title for it!” Y/N squealed. 

“But, you already have a car,” Hoseok pointed out helpfully, the point clearly going straight over his head. 

“Yeah, I do. But if she brings over the station wagon, whoever decides to sign up for driving school will have a car to use when I’m at work or whatever!” Y/N explained, waving the title in Hoseok’s face. 

“Actually, that would be pretty helpful. You won’t have to drive us everywhere all the time,” Yoongi said, brushing a finger over his lips, his gift half-opened on his lap. 

Taehyung, beside her, was the first to resume opening his gift, which was a flat square-shaped package. Y/N had a suspicion that it was a record, which was confirmed when he tore off the last of the paper. It was a vintage jazz record, an artist she didn’t know of, but Taehyung certainly did. It appeared that the record was signed, additionally, which had Taehyung’s cheeks turning a bright shade of pink in excitement. 

Y/N was content to simply watch them all tear into the gifts, soaking in every little expression, ear flicker, and surprised sounds. Namjoon received a first-edition version of one of his favorite books, Yoongi opened a little velvet box containing a silver chain that mimicked the one he wore for his Scarface costume on Halloween, and Hoseok got a new pair of running shoes, flamboyantly colored. For Jimin, it looked like her father had picked out a special edition of the coyote hybrid’s favorite whiskey, Seokjin got a woven silver ring that went with the watch he had gotten for his birthday, and perhaps her favorite gift one of them had received so far– Jeongguk opened up a brass cigarette case, the whole room dissolving into laughter at the bewilderment on his face. 

“To be fair, sweets, you’re about as subtle as a gun with your smoke breaks,” Y/N managed through laughter, watching him turn the case around in his hands. 

“Actually, this is pretty nice. I think it’s an antique,” Jeongguk ignored the fact that he was being laughed at, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pajama pockets and beginning to fill up the case with Marlboros. 

“Knowing my mom, it probably is an antique,” Y/N agreed, getting up again to pass out the next round of gifts. Clothes, mostly, all in each of their unique styles, now that she was familiar with them. She could recall that time, many months ago, when she ordered clothes for all of them without even really knowing what most of them looked like, let alone their style preferences. 

There were a few more personal items she got for each hybrid; such as an Ikea bookshelf (that she’d likely have to put together herself) for Namjoon and his growing book collection and a brand-new bookbag, a nice yoga mat and a Hypervolt for Hoseok, and a big plushie of an alpaca was given to Seokjin, one that he had gushed over at the mall once when Y/N took him for his last haircut. 

Y/N was so enthused, clipping the thin gold chain she had gotten for Taehyung around his throat happily, that she totally forgot about their gifts to her, which remained untouched under a sea of ripped paper beneath the tree. 

“How do those shoes fit, Hoseok? Right size?” Y/N called over Taehyung’s shoulder, securing his necklace and making sure the clasp was in the back. Hoseok was flexing and pointing his feet, tail wagging in a pleased manner as he admired his new sneakers. 

“They’re perfect!” Hoseok gave her an animated thumbs-up, before realization dawned across his face. “Hey, you haven’t opened anything! Jinnie, grab our gift from under the tree!”

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, Y/N accepted a lumpy package from Seokjin, who looked eager and excited, the stuffed alpaca still tucked under his arm. Y/N didn’t think he’d be letting it go anytime soon. 

“This is from the two of you?” Y/N asked meekly, aware of all the eyes on her, even if half of the room was occupied checking out some of their new possessions. 

“Mm-hmm! Picked it out together!” Hoseok relaxed in the chair he was sitting sideways on, his legs dangling over the armrest. 

Y/N tore into the paper, and she knew immediately why the package was so lumpy– they had wrapped an article of clothing without it being in a box, making her chuckle softly. Her fingertips brushed over material that felt like a cloud, and when she stripped the last of the paper away, she held up the jacket the two hybrids picked out for her. 

Made of sherpa, and baby pink in color, the jacket was so soft to the touch that she had to resist pressing her face into it. There was a pink heart embroidered on it, right over where her actual heart would be, and it had enormous pockets that could definitely handle her shoving her mitten-covered hands in. It was adorable, not something that she would have picked herself, but she absolutely loved it. 

“This is so cute, guys! I love it, it’ll be perfect for all the cold weather we have coming our way,” Y/N unzipped the jacket, shrugging it on and relishing the way the sherpa felt on her skin. She reached for Seokjin’s hand beside her, giving it a squeeze and a tiny kiss on his knuckles, blowing one dramatically to Hoseok, as well. 

“I liked the color, and Jinnie wanted to get you something to keep you warm, since you’re pretty bad at that,” Hoseok explained, a low, embarrassed growl coming from Seokjin. 

“I love it,” Y/N repeated. I love you. “Thank you, you two!”

“Okay, me next!” Jimin announced, retrieving his– immaculately wrapped– gift for her. 

Jimin got her a perfume that she had been eyeing on the Fragrantica website for weeks, as well as a book she had mentioned wanting to read by a local author, signed. Next was Taehyung and Yoongi’s gift, Y/N stunned that they actually got a joint gift that they agreed on, and it was her very own set of sheet music notebook, bound in leather, as well as a new pair of noise-canceling headphones in her favorite color. Jeongguk, sheepishly, handed her a little gift bag, the contents being a handful of crystals, a pack of hand-dipped incense, and a set of spell chime candles. 

“You guys are too good to me, seriously. Look at all this stuff! Thank you,” Y/N felt herself get a little choked up, even though the parlor was a mess with cardboard, torn paper, and tissue paper, all she could think about was the amount of thought and care that went into each of them picking out gifts for her. She made her rounds in the room, giving each of them a death-squeeze, even Jeongguk, who grumbled the entire time her arms were wrapped around his neck. 

“Y/N, we still need to watch Elf, remember?” Hoseok reminded her over by the bar cart, still wearing his new sneakers and in the middle of making Christmas cocktails for everyone. 

“I remember! I’ll put it on in a minute, okay? I’m just going to give my parents a call and I’ll be right back,” Y/N poked Hoseok on the cheek as she walked by him, on her way to the foyer so she could make her phone call. 

Escaping the blazing heat of the parlor, Y/N felt her cheeks begin to ache from how long she was grinning like a fool. She was halfway through her phone passcode in the hallway before she felt a tap on her shoulder, Y/N spinning around in confusion. 

“Joonie! What’s up?” Y/N cocked her head, noting that his ears were pressed flat against his skull, like he was embarrassed. 

“I… uh. I didn’t give you your gift yet,” Namjoon said awkwardly, pulling a long rectangular box out of his hoodie pocket and offering it to her. Y/N was so caught up with all of the excitement that morning that she didn’t even register that Namjoon hadn’t given her anything. “Here.”

“Oh, Joonie, you shouldn’t–”

“Yes, I should have. Open it, if you don’t like it, I’ll get something else… I’ve never really picked out anything like this for somebody before. So…” Y/N placed her hand on Namjoon’s upper arm to prevent him from babbling further, his lips slamming shut and ears perking up somewhat. 

Beneath the wrapping paper was a velvet box, Y/N biting down on her lip as she pried the lid open, a sharp gasp tearing from her chest as she saw what was nestled within the box. It was a necklace– a choker, judging by the length of it– entirely made up of tiny gems, perhaps cubic zirconia, and in the center of the necklace was a blood-red gem cut in the shape of a heart, delicate and small like the rest of the gems making up the piece. While gawking at the choker, she heard Namjoon nervously shuffling from foot to foot in front of her, Y/N swallowing thickly in order to lubricate her now bone-dry esophagus. 

“Joon… this is beautiful,” was all Y/N could manage, her voice breaking a little. Namjoon, even with his rough edges, had a profound sentimental side to him that Y/N only saw once in a while, and when he’d reveal it to her, she cherished every second. 

“You like it?” Namjoon’s voice came out in a rush, like he was holding his breath, the orange-amber color of his eyes practically sparkling. “You’re not just saying that, right?”

“You’d know if I was lying,” Y/N retorted, running her pointer finger over the necklace in admiration, heart beating wildly. 

“Do you…” Namjoon cleared his throat, gently taking the box from her grasp, taking a step closer to her. “Want to try it on? I’ll clasp it for you.”

Some questions didn’t require responses. Y/N wordlessly turned, gathering her hair in one hand to move it out of the way, waiting for the wolf hybrid to make the first move. Thankfully, he caught on keenly, Y/N shutting her eyes as she listened to Namjoon move behind her. Miraculously, she didn’t make a sound when he draped the necklace around her throat even though the gems chilled her feverish flesh, instead, Y/N focused on Namjoon’s scent. Without fail, the honeyed musk scent of his body wash had her completely relaxing into the moment, humming contentedly as Namjoon’s fingertips brushed against the sensitive skin of the nape of her neck. Distantly, she knew that she was perhaps being obvious, but Namjoon didn’t seem to notice as he deftly fastened the choker into place. 

“Let me see,” Namjoon requested, using two fingers to tap the side of her neck. 

Doing a goofy twirl, Y/N faced the wolf hybrid again, grabbing onto his hands for balance without a second thought. He didn’t drop his hold on her once she was still, his eyes dropping from her face to the choker around her throat. 

“Pretty,” was all Namjoon said, freeing one of Y/N’s hands so he could adjust the necklace, making sure the little red heart rested in the dip of her collar bones. “Suits you.”

“I love it, Joonie. Thank you,” Y/N shivered due to how close Namjoon had gotten to her. Unable to help herself, Y/N opened her arms, yanking the wolf hybrid into an embrace, Namjoon going stiff before tentatively hugging her back, Y/N wondering if he could hear her thundering heartbeat. “My Joon bug, you’re so sweet.”

Namjoon made a noise of embarrassment, but with her cheek pressed to his chest, she could feel his heartbeat galloping just like hers. 

“Here, come with me while I make my call. I bet my mom would like to say hello to you,” Y/N, sadly, let Namjoon go, tangling her hand in the hem of his forest green henley, dragging him in the direction of her bedroom. Namjoon didn’t protest, letting her tow him along with a hidden smile on his face. 

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Alice sang, bustling through the front door with a large Christmas gift bag hanging off of one elbow, a platter of sugar cookies tucked balanced on her other arm. “And my little fox hybrid!”

“Hi, Al,” Y/N kissed her friend’s cheek, already a little flustered from chasing Daisy around the house with Jimin. “Let me take the cookies. Tae’s in the kitchen, so is Hoseok.”

“Laura’s already here, right?” 

“Showed up at the same time as Ben and Roy!” Y/N helped Alice out of her coat, hanging it up in the closet that was nearly bursting with the amount of garments stuffed in there. “Jesus. There must be 26 coats in here. And 8 of them belong to Seokjin.”

“Oh, he’s such a cutie. Not a fan of the cold, right?” Alice followed Y/N to the kitchen, straightening out her sweater as she walked. Before they could get there, however, Alice stopped her with a poke on the shoulder, expression becoming serious. “How are things? You know, with… Yoongi?’

Alice whispered so softly, Y/N had to practically press her ear to her friend’s mouth, and once she registered what she was asking, Y/N was grateful the house was full of loud voices and music at that moment. 

“Um, I’ll give you a call next time I go to work and tell you everything,” Y/N hoped that Alice would get the hint, giving her a beseeching look. “But we’re good, don’t worry about me. We’re still figuring things out, but we’re not on the outs anymore.”

Alice seemed to digest this information slowly, as if she didn’t quite believe Y/N, but let it go and continued to follow Y/N, leaning into her side as she walked. 

“Fine, but I want details. Excruciating details. You promised,” Alice whisper-shouted, her face brightening once she spotted her twin sister in the kitchen, who was mingling with Roy and Jimin.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Y/N brushed her off, feeling embarrassed. In the kitchen, all of her Christmas decorations were still up and an obscene amount of food on the island, mostly charcuterie boards she and Yoongi spent a large part of the day preparing. “Get some food before you try one of those cocktails Hoseok made. They’re pretty stiff.”

“Alice is here!” As if he was summoned, Hoseok strolled over, two fresh cocktails in his hands, offering the two girls the glasses with his stunning smile. “How’ve you been, darling? Been writing your new book?”

Alice turned on her coy smirk, using her free arm to give Hoseok a side-hug, pecking his cheek like Y/N had done to her when she arrived. Lifting an eyebrow but holding her tongue, she watched Hoseok’s smile grow even wider, smugly. 

“Yeah, I’ve just finished the rough draft. It’s been a blast to write, totally different from what I usually do,” Alice took an over-confident sip of her cocktail, and Y/N tried her best to hold back her laughter when Alice immediately coughed at the taste of it. “Christ, Foxy, what is this, jungle juice?”

“Something adjacent to jungle juice, yes,” Hoseok chuckled, reaching out to take the gift bag Alice was still carrying, placing it on the coffee bar where several bags from other guests were– birthday gifts for Taehyung. 

“Tastes like you made it in the goddamn sink,” Alice muttered, all while taking another sip. 

Snorting, Y/N was about to mention that Hoseok originally wanted to make it in the sink, but she heard her name being called, so she hastily excused herself, searching for the source of the voice amongst the crowded kitchen. 

“Honey! In here,” Y/N discovered that it was her mother calling her from the dining room, frantically motioning for her to join her, Y/N hoping she wasn’t about to tell her she had some kind of disturbing vision again. 

“What’s going on? There aren’t even any lights on in here, why are you lurking in the dark like this?” Y/N asked, growing more suspicious by the second. 

“I wanted to ask you if you finished working on Taehyung’s gift,” her mother, though originally a little wary of Taehyung after her vision about him many months ago, had warmed up to him by then. She had the feeling it was due to how sweet and affectionate Taehyung was around Y/N, and the fact that Y/N was so completely comfortable with him. 

“Of course I did. I worked on it whenever he was at the rec center! It’s all set up for later,” Y/N replied, a little ticked that she was pulled away from the party just to get interrogated about her work ethic. 

“Good, good. He looks happy! Not as shy as he once was,” her mother commented blithely, making Y/N hum. 

“I think the club had something to do with that,” Y/N started to drag her mother back into the kitchen, eager to get back to her friends and make sure there weren’t any shenanigans going on. “Did you see the portraits he took of us hung up on the stairwell?”

Y/N was able to deliver her mother to Ben, who was more than willing to keep her occupied by telling her about Daisy’s newfound interest in painting, and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to find her hideous-tasting cocktail waiting for her on the island. She was mid-bite of a particularly juicy chocolate covered strawberry when she spotted Taehyung, who was by the fridge, chatting with Yoongi. Both of them were dressed in clothes she had gotten the two of them for Christmas, and it made her very happy that Taehyung had allowed himself to get closer to Yoongi, especially in recent weeks. 

Downing the rest of her drink, she rounded the island as best she could, giving Jeongguk a playful flick on the back of his head as she passed by him, an unlit cigarette between his lips as he was heading towards the slider to the backyard. He rolled his eyes, patting the top of her head condescendingly before he vanished, Y/N approaching Taehyung and Yoongi. 

“Hi, having fun?” Y/N greeted them, Taehyung nodded, leaning against the fridge with a content look. “Good idea for having a bunch of charcuterie boards, Tae.” 

“You got a little,” Tae motioned around his mouth area like she had something on her face, but before she could use her cocktail napkin to wipe her face sheepishly, Yoongi set down his glass of wine.

 Tongue peeking out to dampen his thumb, he got rid of smudge of chocolate on the corner of her mouth, popping the digit into his mouth without so much as a second thought, Y/N staring at him like he lost his fucking mind. 

“Got it,” Yoongi picked his wine glass back up, licking his lips with a devilish grin, Taehyung simply watching the scene unfold in front of him with boredom. 

“Whoa, my grandma used to do that to me during Sunday dinners,” Ben interrupted, Taehyung stepping aside so her friend could access the freezer for more ice. “Hey, Yoongi. I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

Y/N froze, jumping to the conclusion that Ben would confront the leopard hybrid after the brunch she had with him a couple of weeks ago, though that was hardly within his nature. Though protective of her, Ben wasn’t one to throw her under the bus, and Y/N had to quickly compose herself so none of her hybrids would catch the scent of alarm on her. Yoongi, unperturbed, regarded Ben with a lazy flicker of one of his spotted ears. 

“Go ahead,” Yoongi enunciated slowly, the only indication that he was as wary as Y/N. 

“You can say no, of course, but Y/N mentioned that you were teaching her how to play piano. I was wondering, if you had time during the week, if you could stop by and give Daisy some lessons? We’ll pay you for your time, naturally,” Ben proposed, Y/N nearly fainting with relief. 

“Oh, uh… yeah, I’d have time for that. I’m only at the rec center three times a week in the evenings. Do Monday afternoons work?” Yoongi’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, apparently taken aback. 

“Works for us! Here, come with me, we gotta tell Roy. He’s been wanting to sign her up for lessons for weeks, he has a bunch of questions…” Ben held his hand out, beckoning for Yoongi to follow him into the parlor where his fiance was entertaining Daisy with Jimin. 

Y/N saw that as an opportunity to steal Taehyung away from the party, grabbing his hand lightly. He didn’t protest, or even ask why she was leading him towards the staircase, but he clung to her side as if he could sense her growing anticipation. 

“Where are we going?” Taehyung finally asked curiously, taking steps two at a time to keep up with Y/N’s jog upstairs. 

“I wanna show you your gift!” Y/N breathed with effort after scaling the staircase, leading the Kodiak hybrid down the hall to what was once a large, unused walk-in closet of sorts, perhaps for linens back in the home’s heyday. Y/N used an old key she had stashed in her pocket to unlock the old door, feeling Taehyung looming behind her and breathing down her neck. 

Y/N fumbled for the lightswitch, stepping to the side and making a “ta-da!” gesture, Taehyung peering into the closet with rapt interest. 

Y/N had totally renovated the closet into a darkroom for Taehyung to develop photos in the home when he couldn’t access the rec center. She had begun doing a little research a months ago about how to DIY the room, and she thought it came out pretty successfully; two counters on either side of the closet– a “wet” and “dry” section of the room, fresh coat of dark paint on the walls, second-hand equipment she found on the internet, and the entire space lit with special low-light red bulbs. 

“What do you think! Pretty cool, right?” Y/N gushed, waltzing into the small room and pointing at the clothesline she had fastened to the walls so the Kodiak hybrid could hang his prints up to dry. “It’s like a home office for you, only a couple of doors down from your bedroom!”

“Y/N, you did this yourself?” Taehyung’s face had totally dissolved into shock, taking a shaky step into the dark room with large, rounded eyes. “It looks like the one in the rec center…”

“I had to do some research, but it was a blast to set up. Even if it was a challenge to work on it and keep it a secret from you, locking it up at night, hiding cans of paint… but I hope you like it!”

Taehyung looked around with glee, fingertips brushing over the newly installed countertops, Y/N perching herself on the chair she placed in the corner, admiring how diligently he checked everything out. The sleeves of his vintage sweater had slipped over his wrists again, Taehyung hastily pushing them up over his elbows so he could pick up one of the old cameras Y/N had dug out of the basement to give him. 

“You… Really like to go above and beyond, huh?” Taehyung surprised Y/N by making a teasing remark, spinning on his heel and taking a picture of her with the old camera. “Of course I like it, why wouldn’t I?” 

“So you’re teasing me now, too? Taking tips from Yoongi?” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, though something told her Taehyung didn’t quite know how to react to the situation. 

Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head, before he stalked up to Y/N on the chair and used his hands to haul her to her feet by hooking them under her armpits, crushing her in, well, a bear hug. Y/N went limp in his arms, unable to breathe but in bliss with the way he was holding her tightly, sandalwood fragrance intoxicating her. 

“Happy birthday, Tae,” Y/N murmured into his sweater, his arms tightening around her waist even more with her words. 

“We should probably go back downstairs…” Taehyung pulled away from her, the red lighting of the room bringing out his eye color more than ever before. “I think people are looking for you.”

“Curse of being the hostess,” Y/N sighed, linking her arm with his. “It’s time for cake, anyways!”

Taehyung hummed, snuggling close into her side as they began to return to their guests and the other hybrids, though as they got to the bottom step into the foyer, Taehyung bent down to whisper in Y/N’s ear. 

“Thank you, for everything.”

“Anything for you.”

“You’re so busy these days! I miss you…” Y/N hung onto the hem of Yoongi’s thermal like a child, waiting for him to shut the soundproof doors of the music room and unable to keep the whine out of her voice. 

“You’re busy, too, sweetheart. Didn’t you say there’s something coming up for you at work in the next few weeks?” Yoongi shook off her grip on his clothing, pointing at the loveseat so they could catch up. 

It had been a week since Taehyung’s birthday, the first Friday of January, and Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had a piano lesson with Yoongi due to their conflicting schedules. 

“Yeah, I still have to think about it. Judy has this opportunity coming up, but it wouldn’t involve just me,” Y/N collapsed onto the loveseat, making grabby hands for Yoongi to sit beside her. 

“So tell me. You don’t want to do it?” Yoongi put his arm around her, his eyes a little sleepy from his hectic week of basketball practices and traveling back and forth to Ben’s to teach Daisy. Y/N sighed, launching into a recount of her meeting with Judy the day before. 

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking about asking you about something for a while, do you have a moment before you head home?” Judy announced vaguely, as Y/N was closing the blinds to the storefront at the end of her shift. 

“Of course,” Y/N adjusted the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder, Judy looking incredibly pleased with that answer. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed since you started working here, people will come in every once and a while asking for help in the area of paranormal activity in their homes or places of business,” Judy began, brushing sandy curls out of her face. “I used to be able to travel to these locations and do consultations and cleansings, but not so much anymore with the growing popularity of my readings here at the shop.”

“Right,” Y/N nodded, already knowing where the conversation was heading. 

“I’ll cut to the chase. Would you be interested in taking up that responsibility? The pay would be higher, and you successfully cleansed your own home,” Judy clasped her hands in front of her, looking ever-so-hopeful. 

“I… The opportunity sounds interesting, and I’d like to say that I could commit to it, but with my hybrids at home…” Y/N already felt bad enough she had to be away from them three times a week, so the additional hours and traveling filled her with hesitance. 

“I thought of something to remedy that. You mentioned to me that you performed banishments and cleansings at your home with the help of two of your hybrids. I was thinking between the three of you, you could have somewhat of a ‘team’ that would do the consultations.”

“You mean Namjoon and Jeongguk?” Y/N blinked, taken aback. 

“Yes, the two gentlemen I met a little after Lammas,” Judy confirmed, referring to the time she had brought the hybrids to the strip mall for ice cream in August. “They’d make perfect additions. The wolf hybrid, you told me, has a wealth of knowledge for the paranormal, and your elk hybrid is experienced with exorcism.”

“I– I’d have to ask them about it,” Y/N replied weakly, knowing that Namjoon would likely pounce on the opportunity, but talking to Jeongguk could go either way. Considering Jeongguk wasn’t a part of any clubs, and Namjoon only left the house on Mondays for the book club, it would give both of them the chance to get out more. “Can I get back to you?”

“Absolutely. I should tell you, as well, you’d have total control over how the team would operate, so you’d have quite a bit of freedom. I think you’d end up preferring it over sitting in a nearly empty shop most days.”

Y/N was shoving Yoongi by his shoulder as he belly laughed at her, his eyes scrunched up into slits. 

“Fuck you, Yoongi, stop laughing! What’s funny?” Y/N crossed her arms across her chest, waiting for him to stop gasping for breath with a frown. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Yoongi wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, collecting her shoulders and settling her back into his side with a kiss to her temple. “So, let me get this right. Your boss wants you to formulate a ghostbusting team with those two edgelords hotboxing that ancient van in our driveway right now?”

“It sounds fucking stupid when you say it like that, but yeah, that’s the gist of it,” Y/N snapped, though melting into Yoongi’s hold anyways. “I’ve got to talk to them over the weekend. I know Namjoon would be on board, but Jeongguk…”

Absently, Y/N’s fingertips began toying with the choker around her neck she hadn’t taken off since Namjoon fastened it there, chewing her lip. 

“I think you should do it. You got rid of whatever was on this property, remember? And you won’t have to sit behind a counter and send us memes all day out of boredom,” Yoongi squeezed her side, sobering up enough to take her seriously. 

“Okay, I’ll talk to them,” Y/N agreed, feeling better that she had Yoongi’s approval. “Um, when do you think we should…”

Yoongi knew where she was going without her having to finish her sentence. When do you think we should tell the others that we’re together?

“It needs to be up to you, sweetheart. I can handle it if they’re pissed at me, but how they’ll react to you after they find out is what concerns me,” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, Y/N considering that. “We need to be delicate about it, I think.”

Yoongi was tip-toeing around the fact that Y/N still had to confess her feelings to the six others, which had her gritting her teeth. 

“I’ll work something out. Jesus, I feel like I’m planning a press conference,” Y/N tipped her head against the back of the couch, heaving a sigh through her nose. “I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”

“Is that right?” Yoongi’s tone turned playful, dropping an octave or two. “In front of everyone?”

Feeling the mood shift, Y/N forgot all about the piano lesson she was supposed to be in the middle of, something heating up in her stomach as Yoongi smirked, looking down his nose at her. 

“You know what I mean,” Y/N whispered, electrified. 

“I do?” Yoongi’s expression turned thoughtful, his ears fluttering as Y/N curled her legs sideways on the couch so she could face him. “You think I want that, too?”

“Whatever, guess not,” Y/N attempted to look away, a tad embarrassed. She was stopped, however, by a gentle grip on her chin. 

“You want me to kiss you in front of everyone, show them what you mean to me?” 

Y/N was silent, throat parched as she read the primal possession in his feline eyes. Swallowing as best she could to lubricate her esophagus, all she could hear was a gentle ticking coming from a clock sitting beside the new record player she had gotten Taehyung for Christmas. 

“Hmm… I don’t know if you really want that,” Yoongi continued, sounding almost bored, unaffected. 

“Yoongi.”

“Sweetheart?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Y/N growled, bracing her hands on his shoulders and leveling him with an annoyed glare. 

Yoongi stared her down, still appearing unmoved, before he took her by surprise and surged forward urgently, the grip on her chin moving to the back of her neck, yanking her into his lips, the leopard hybrid’s mouth muffling the cry she let out. 

Unlike the kiss she stole from him the day before Christmas Eve, this one was full of fire and ice, Yoongi working his mouth so intensely against her own, Y/N imagined cartoon stars floating around her head like a halo. Still a little put off by his teasing earlier, she kissed him back just as eagerly, boldly nibbling his bottom lip eliciting a feral hiss from his chest. The expulsion of air opened his mouth enough for Y/N to swipe her tongue across the flesh she had just bitten, one of her hands cupping Yoongi’s jaw to keep him in place. 

Yoongi, in retaliation, tilted his head sideways, Y/N’s mouth parting because of it, his tongue sweeping into her mouth promptly in an attempt to regain control. Y/N, at that moment, didn’t want to relinquish it quite yet. Eyes still shut, she increased the strength at which she was clutching the side of his face, using her core to swing one knee over Yoongi’s lap, settling down on his thighs and resting her free hand over his purring chest. 

All too soon, however, she needed air, breaking free from the lip lock with a thin string of saliva still connecting them, Y/N’s chest heaving as she dove in for more– this time going straight for Yoongi’s neck. The leopard hybrid grunted, his hands sliding down her body to settle heavily on her hips, the sensation of her hot mouth on the sensitive skin of his neck overwhelming. Y/N kissed below his earlobe, unable to get enough, loving the quiet sounds coming from Yoongi’s swollen lips, trailing her kisses to his clavicle, skimming the chain that was around his neck.

“Baby,” Yoongi’s strained voice came out as a feathery breath, like he was trying to control himself, and Y/N returned to his mouth, moaning softly at the way his scorching fingertips wormed their way under her tee-shirt, skimming the skin of her lower back. 

“Mm?” Y/N hummed against his mouth, getting dizzy from the way his tongue slid against hers sensually. She never wanted the moment to end, no matter how much she was sweating– and how strong the spark of arousal was between her legs. 

Adjusting her position on his lap, Yoongi went quite still when she settled more weight on top of him, one of her own hands sneaking up the front of his shirt to settle over his pounding heart indulgently. Pulling away with a warning nip to the corner of her jaw, the sharpness of his canines against her flaming skin having her gasping, Yoongi sat back with a regretful look on his face, holding onto her hips to keep her somewhat hovering over his lap. 

“Love, we can’t… not until we tell everyone else. There’s no excuse that could cover up… the scent,” Yoongi managed, eyes softening at Y/N’s desperate pout. 

“Scent?” Y/N leaned forward despite the warning, pecking his lower lip indulgently

Yoongi glanced down at their laps expectantly, Y/N getting what he was implying like a freight train hit her. 

“Oh god. That’s embarrassing,” Y/N panicked, starting to move off of his lap, when he caught her with a grunt, keeping her seated on top of her. 

“Embarrassing? It’s natural. Come on, silly girl,” Yoongi growled, tucking hair behind her ears tenderly all the while. “Still. Wait just a little longer for me, okay?”

Y/N relented, the fire slowly leaching from her veins as she nestled her head into Yoongi’s chest, hiding her moping. 

“You waited for me all this time. I’ll wait for you.”

“Cheesy,” Yoongi snickered, soothingly passing her hands up and down her back. “Why don’t we get started with the lesson? Have you been practicing?”

“Let me hold you for a bit more,” Y/N whined, nuzzling her cheek into the crook of his neck. 

Yoongi snorted, planting a kiss on the top of her head, but indulging her anyway. He always was a pushover, when it came to her. 

Y/N was sitting in her car, half-frozen while she waited for it to heat up, staring at the phone in her hand. 

Sarah Good: Hi, Y/N! Thank you for reaching out over email about getting Hannah and Seokjin together before we move. How’s lunch at Salem’s on January 11th?

Resisting the urge to honk for Seokjin to get a move on within the house, she swallowed down nerves and adjusted her sweater dress twitchily. She had told Seokjin about the planned lunch weeks ago, and watched how excited he became as the days rolled on, and it was finally time to meet up with Sarah and Hannah. Y/N was about to send a text to Seokjin to get him to come outside when she spotted him hurrying down the icy driveway, wrapped up in a giant lavender puffer jacket. 

“Cold,” Seokjin whimpered as he climbed into the passenger seat, but retaining his merry expression. “Oh! You’re wearing the jacket!”

Indeed, Y/N had the baby pink sherpa jacket he and Hoseok had given to her for Christmas. It had become her favorite coat simply because they had gifted her, but also because seeing the delight on both of their faces when she wore it was absolutely priceless. 

“Matches my dress, see?” Y/N lifted the skirt of her pink sweater dress playfully, Seokjin definitely making sure she was wearing the skin-toned thick tights underneath it. “Don’t worry, I’m warm enough!”

Y/N threw her car into gear as soon as Seokjin was buckled in, his hand immediately seeking out hers, squeezing it eagerly. 

“So, are you excited to see her?” Y/N asked nonchalantly, after several minutes of listening to Seokjin hum along to the radio. 

“I am. I hope she’s recovered from her injuries…” Seokjin admitted, his mouth screwing up in concern. 

“I’ve been in touch with Sarah, she said that Hannah is doing wonderfully, all healed up! Sarah said there’s a great gymnastics team for hybrids in the area of New York she’s moving to that Hannah is interested in joining,” Y/N brushed her thumb over the back of Seokjin’s hand, something that he typically did whenever he thought she was stressed or nervous. 

“She’ll love that,” Seokjin replied tenderly, his legs bouncing up and down in anticipation. Y/N, despite herself, smiled empathetically, Seokjin’s concern for others rubbing off on her infectiously. 

Minutes later, they arrived at the brewery, Y/N trying to park as close to the building as she could out of Seokjin’s disdain for the frigid January temperature. 

“I don’t think they’re here yet, we’re a little early,” Y/N cleared her throat, finally able to get a good look at the jaguar hybrid beside her. He looked breathtaking, as he normally did, the pastel purple of his coat complimenting his sunset eyes, wavy hair parted off of his forehead, and smelling fresh and clean. “We can wait in here or go get a table? What do you think, honey?”

Seokjin opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Y/N’s ringtone, which she answered quickly without checking the caller ID. 

“Y/N? It’s Sarah! We just got here, parked towards the back,” a raspy, friendly female voice came in from the receiver, Y/N blinking rapidly as she observed Seokjin flinging his door open, promptly jumping out of the Land Cruiser. 

“O-oh, we’re here too! We’ll meet you at the door!” Y/N rushed out, hanging up before she could lose track of Seokjin, who was a blur of pastel and puffer jacket dashing across the parking lot. 

Y/N hardly had the time to lock the car before chasing after the jaguar hybrid, avoiding the black ice as best she could in the midst of her scrambling. 

“Jinnie!” A melodic, high and sweet voice exclaimed, chock-full of thick feeling, called across the parking lot, Y/N nearly tripping over her own boots at the sound of it. 

Pausing, Y/N watched the scene in front of her unfold like it was a movie she was watching in a theater, Seokjin screeching to a halt, arms wide as a slight figure darted into view. It was a young woman, around Seokjin’s age, with glimmering strawberry-blonde hair and peachy cat ears with a matching tail, who without any prompting, launched herself into Seokjin’s arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as she shook with emotion. 

Seokjin caught her with graceful ease, though his knees buckled nervously as well, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head softly. Even from a considerable distance away from him, Y/N could spot the tear running down Seokjin’s cheek, a stabbing pain striking though her chest. Ears ringing, Y/N stared at the two embracing, biting the inside of her cheek painfully when she heard Seokjin’s throaty response. 

“Hannah, I missed you.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XIII)

Chapter 13: ‘So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.’

Hi! Here is new chapter! Andrew’s reaction to the kiss…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2465

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Be drunk

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it—it's the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.

But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: "It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."

Charles Baudelaire, translation by Louis Simpson from Modern Poets of France: A Bilingual Anthology, originally published in Les petits poèmes en prose as “Enivrez-vous”, 1864

Andrew fell asleep out of exhaustion at one point, after tossing and turning for too long. But then, he woke up at dawn, around the time the sun was slowly turning the sky from inky to golden, and he couldn’t go back to sleep.

You had kissed him.

He let out a long exhale as he thought of the scene, pictured himself back on your sofa, with too much alcohol in his veins. Instead of your white ceiling, he could see your features all over again; from your messy hair to the burning fire in your gaze and your inviting lips. And then you were kissing him, he remembered closing his eyes without thinking. He remembered how his brain short-circuited then, how he forgot about everything in the world except for your lips on his and the warmth of your body against his own. And then your skin under his fingers, the softness of your hair, the brush of your breathing. He could have kissed you for hours, and perhaps he did, he couldn’t remember how long it lasted. Too long to be meaningless, that was for sure. Too long for him to pretend even to himself that it was unwanted.

And then he went to the bathroom in an attempt to gather his wits, but when he finally felt calmer again, once he had slowed down his heartrate, and he was walking back into the room, you were nowhere to be found. The door to your bedroom was closed, he guessed you had found refuge there.

His feet took him in front of the forbidden room, he stared at the imperfections carved in the wood of the door, the drops in the white paint. He raised his hand, fist closed, held it there for a moment, up in the air. But when he moved it closer to the door, his palm opened, seemingly on its own accord, and he didn’t knock. He merely rested his hand against the wood, thought about how soft your skin was, and remained standing there for a moment.

Should he try to come in? And for what? Talk about it? Huh… talk about what? There was nothing to talk about. You were drunk. You were drunk, and had acted without thinking and it didn’t mean a thing. You wanted Frank, and he wanted Samantha. You were colleagues, it would make everything complicated, too much so to be worth it. And anyway… anyway, there wasn’t even a reason to think about work. You didn’t want him. And he didn’t want you. You wanted to get your exes back, and you would, you had made an alliance for that. There was nothing to discuss about the kiss, about how much he liked it, about how he imagined knocking on your door now, and you opening it, and him kissing you again...

This was madness… he ought to control himself, to focus on his real goal, to fall back to reason. It was a mistake. You had made a mistake, and he ought to forget all about it.

He went to bed in silence, walking away from your door without knocking, unknowing of your struggle on the other side, of how much you hesitated to go knock on his door to kiss him again.

Instead, he went to the other bedroom, closed the door, and he fell asleep at long last, exhaustion and alcohol finally catching up with him.

And now, there he was, lying in a bed in your home. He couldn’t hear any sound coming from the rest of your flat, and he wasn’t surprised. It was too early, and it was the weekend, and you had gotten drunk last night. You would probably wake up only in a few hours, and he decided that it would be best if he weren’t in your home when you got up. So, he sat up, a migraine piercing his skull after the excess of drinking from the previous night. He groaned as he got up, dizzy, head spinning as he rearranged the messy sheets, but he then moved to the door anyway.

He walked as quietly as he could in your home, allowed himself to drink a glass of water before gathering his things and leaving. He left a note on your kitchen table for you to find in the morning.

Thanks for letting me stay the night. I had a great time with you, thanks for the wonderful whiskey!

I’ll see you on Monday at the office.

Andy.

PS: there’s no need to mention again what happened last night. We were both drunk, we weren’t thinking straight. I’m not angry, nor upset. Let’s just forget about it, and never drink so much whiskey ever again.

Once he had gathered his things, was ready to depart, he threw one last glance towards the closed door of your bedroom. He ignored the tugging at his heart that came with him looking away, and leaving you behind.

You had kissed him.

No matter how hard Andrew tried not to think about it, he couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t move passed it. Couldn’t erase the feeling of your lips on his, your fingers in his hair, the weight of your body leaning against his, the warmth of your breath fanning over his chin, the taste of your tongue as it slid over his…

He heaved a sigh, closed his eyes. Lying on his sofa, with his feet hanging over the edge, the furniture too small for his long frame, Andrew kept on replaying the scene in his head. He had spent the rest of his day trying not to think about you. He had taken a long walk with Elwood despite the rain, called his parents, called his brother, played some guitar, prepared a few things for his upcoming classes next week. He had kept himself busy, but it wasn’t working. You were always there, at the back of his mind. Now that the afternoon was slowly fading into evening, that the sun was almost gone and leaving behind its rays the light specks of starlight, Andrew was running out of excuses to avoid thinking about you. Now that he lied on his sofa, staring at his ceiling, all he could think of was that kiss. Or well, those kisses, rather. He would have been lying, had he pretended that what had happened had only lasted for one kiss. You had spent several minutes like this. Yeah, a long time. Christ...

He needed to forget this moment because it meant nothing. You were drunk. He was drunk. You were both drunk, not thinking straight, and after an awful night and torturing weeks of loneliness you both needed to feel less alone for a second. And that was it. Two friends who were attempting to cope with heartbreak, two friends who felt lonely, two friends who did something silly out of intoxication.

Nothing more.

And anyway, Andrew didn’t want you, he wanted Sam. He wanted Sam. Beautiful, funny, smart, impetuous Sam. The Sam who had been with him for eight years, who had been there through the most important changes of his life, Sam who made him wait but it was alright he could wait for her. Sam who didn’t share his interests, but that was okay, they had other things in common and he liked listening to her talk about what she loved.

He didn’t want you. Even if you were so fucking smart, it made his brain tingle in the best way to talk with you about literally anything. Even if you shared most of his interests and were curious about the things he loved that you knew nothing about. Even if you were hilarious, one of the few people able to make him genuinely laugh these days. Even if you were so damn strong, even now, even with your heart broken and your life in pieces. Even if you were beautiful, sometimes he couldn’t get passed that fact. Even if you were kind, the type of kindness that made him believe in humankind…

No, no, no, no! He wanted Sam. He wanted Sam, this was simply a mistake. He would not bring it up again, he would tell you nothing about it, he would ignore that it had happened altogether. You had shared a moment, you had shared a kiss, but it was a mere instant, a flicker, gone too fast, programmed to die out. A shooting star. One moment of solace that faded as quickly as it had appeared.

He tried to picture Sam instead, painted her face against his eyelids. But as soon as he didn’t consciously force himself to think of her, your lips were burning his again, and your hands cradled his cheeks, your skin so warm against his…

He opened his eyes, sat up in a jolt.

This was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. He was in love with Sam, he wanted her back, that was what this whole arrangement with you was about. And you wanted someone else too, you wanted Frank, you didn’t want Andrew…

Without thinking, his gaze drifted towards his coffee table and the smartphone that sat there. He touched the screen, making his lockscreen light up, a picture of Sam grinning appearing. He checked his notifications without unlocking his phone, but there was nothing. You hadn’t called, hadn’t texted. Which was normal, there was nothing to discuss. You were probably busy anyway, you had mentioned that you had some chores to do today, and after the excesses of the previous night, you would need some rest. Besides, he had already told you not to mention the kiss again, so.

Well, kisses…

He tried very hard to deny that he was disappointed as he locked his phone. He couldn’t do it. He missed you. Which was crazy, because he had seen you last night, and he would see you tomorrow at work. He was just being silly. He needed to get it together… it was just a kiss. Nothing would come out of it.

None of you wanted a new relationship, you both wanted your exes, you both wanted what you had lost. You didn’t want to find anything, you wanted to claim back what was yours.

Although… Andrew didn’t understand you. He didn’t understand why you wanted Frank so bad. You could have better than him, you could have… someone who would care about your interests, someone who would listen, someone who would love you enough not to drag you along, someone who would be interested in what you had to say. How could Frank not be interested in what you had to say, anyway? Andrew thought back of a lunch break earlier that week, spent just the two of you in your office. Your conversation had wandered from politics about the economy and inflation, Mary Oliver’s poetry, Mavis Staples, your latest attempt at keeping a plant alive, Elwood’s latest mischief, abortion laws in Ireland, your favourite pasta dish, his mother’s art, and you had settled on attending a protest together next weekend that was organised to show support for the women who had been victims of the Magdalene laundries, before going back to work.

You had so much to say, about so many important and mundane things alike, and you were so brilliantly smart about all of it. And Frank was at best… faking interest? What was wrong with that man?

The image of Sam focused on her phone while he spoke flashed before his eyes, but he pushed it aside. It wasn’t the same, he… he wasn’t as interesting as you were, and besides… besides…

Was it not the same?

He rested his elbows on his knees, buried his face in his hands, heaved a long, aching sigh. Why was it all so difficult anyway? He didn’t feel like himself, hadn’t for a while, to be fair. Sometimes when he was teaching, he forgot about the pain that came with broken love, sometimes when he spent time with you and made you laugh, he was reminded that the world did not end with the heresy of losing someone he loved. The aching came back still, the emptiness he saw in his bed, on his couch, on the shelf of his bathroom, in the space between wanting and having. He should have known that the time spent with Sam, spent loving her, was only a loan. It was bound to end. Everything ended. Everything died in the end. The high that came with the euphoria of being in love, like a drug, was only a high, but reality had to come back, to slither in through the cracks of a dream that would be gone with the rising of dawn.

And anyway, the world was doomed, everything was going sour, there were wars and famine and people suffering, and in this crumbling sense of humanity, what was the point in loving at all? What was the point of holding the hope that something in this flitting world could last? A fool’s hope that would eventually collapse. It was pointless. Why would he want to love again? Why would he want Sam again, why… why would he want you?

Why would I want to love her when loving Sam wasn’t enough? Why would she want to love me when Sam gave up?

He could feel himself spiralling, knew it wasn’t healthy, tried to hold back the tears. And he thought of you, of your kisses, of your hands on him, of your mouth and your taste and the feeling of being human again that came with you wanting him, even if only for a moment.

Judging by how the past six months had gone by, Andrew thought he would not avoid it, the panic and the pain and the despair, that it would last a few hours at least. But then the thoughts came in verses, rhymes formed, the semblance of a rhythm, of a pattern, with words that carried meaning.

He looked up, blinked as he blankly stared at the dark screen of his tv. A void. Nothing. He couldn’t see it. He hurried to stand up, to head for his office, to grab the first piece of paper and the first pen he could find.

This was just the embryo of an idea, nothing structured, he would have to work on it, but it was something. The first thing he wanted to write in six months. The feeling of relief that came with tracing each letter was indescribable.

It started with two simple questions. He wrote them thinking of you. Thinking of you and him. Thinking of your lips on his, as a way to accept that he wanted to feel them again.

Why would you be loving?

Why would you be loved?

[141wh0re]

Teaser

Tw: 18+ MDNI | un-aliving | weapons| violence| blood| angst if you squint.

Word Count: 2059

A/N: After weeks of trying not to think about this and get through my last semester, we are finally here! I can't wait to rot your brains with this AU. I can't wait to see what you all think of this - Skelly xx

12th Century A.D. - in the desert of Al Mazafin, along the Red Sea.

Prince Kyle Garrick kneels before the sacred fountain, performing his mid-day prayer.

A singular speck of dried blood stains the low ledge of the fountain's pool, taunting the prince for his loss. The same fountain his father - King Jeremiah Garrick- was murdered near. He was found lying face-down in the small pool of the sacred waters, his own blood tainting it. Murdered when he least expected it; praying for his family and the safety of their kingdom's people. Wishing them to be blessed and protected.

The inky, black and red, aged speck stares back at him as he glares at it, allowing it to invade his thoughts, tainting his own mind with the darker thoughts. Wanting revenge for his beloved father. To damn the person who bestowed such responsibility upon him so soon, by taking his father's life.

Kyle wasn't ready to be king. All he knew was war. As his father's second right hand, it was Kyle's duty to bring honor to their family name, fighting in his father's army, invading kingdoms who threaten to bring harm to their beloved city of Al-Mazafin. He was curated into a man used to bloodshed and battle.

He'd learned much of what his father had passed onto him, yet he felt as if he wasn't prepared enough. He knew the day would come. He knew he'd be crowned the successor of his father's throne. But it wasn't supposed to be this soon.

He glared at the fountain, losing focus on his mid-day prayer, due to the incessant pestering from that singular speck of his father's blood. A single drop of blood that caused such a ripple within his mind, disturbing the calmness of his thoughts. It opened him up to the grief and anger that took residence in his heart and in his bones, taunting his darker parts, begging for them to be unleashed. To feel the weight of a dagger sliding into another man's chest, or the sharp pinch of the bow string snapping between his fingertips as he propels an arrow into his enemy, atop the back of his horse.

But what he couldn't fathom was the silken dagger pouch that seemed to hum and buzz with endless energy. Or the faint glow of purple it emitted when sand entered the pouch. And the strange haze it seemed to pull his enemies into when he threw the sand in their eyes, blinding them momentarily in a fit of desperation, to bid him time to maneuver a counter-attack.

It was left for him, by his father, attached with a singular note scrawled in his father's writing. One sentence. "Use it well, and you shall always know the truth."

His mother's voice sounds from behind him, disrupting the chaos of his mind.

"Kyle? Alright, love?" she asked tenderly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He rises from his position of kneeling, his warm, chocolate eyes flickering towards her warm gaze.

"Fine, mother." he replied in a strained voice, fighting the guilt threatening to consume him for lying to his mother.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"He would be proud of you... of how you're handling everything since his passing." Queen Cyra offered in a gentle tone.

Her kinky, black curls rested along her back, stopping just below her slender shoulder blades. The same curls her son inherited - though Kyle never allowed his to grow out. White Persian silk flowed from her slender frame, delicate patterns with purple and gold embroidery adorned the capped sleeves of her gown, and a large, golden sun pendant lay flush to her smooth, brown skin.

Queen Cyra was the epitome of elegance and poised sophistication, ever the diplomatic woman, she commanded respect in the same manner, her late husband, King Jeremiah did.

"Yeah.. I'm sure." Kyle replied, not entirely believing his mother's words.

Cyra's eyes softened on her son, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Why don't you get out of the palace for a bit? Wander the streets of the city and enjoy some fresh air," his mother suggested, sensing the weariness of her son's mind.

"It'll do you some good to wander a bit. Ease your mind." she added in her caring tone.

Kyle pondered her idea thoughtfully. It wasn't a bad idea at all. He'd been cooped up within the palace for the last few days, ever since returning from a particularly horrendous journey to another kingdom, in search of a another noble to wed.

"Yeah. I think I will." Kyle finally agreed, flashing his mother a quick smile that hadn't quite reached his eyes.

She smiled in return before pressing a warm kiss on his smooth brown cheek.

"Take Gaz with you." his mother advised, referring to his 2 year old guard dog, a South African Boerboel - a gift from an ally in the southern region of the continent.

He whistled at the large, sandy, short-haired mastiff who was standing dutifully at the pointed cinquefoil archway, keeping watch. Gaz snapped his attention from the archway and padded towards Kyle. "You heard the queen." Kyle spoke to the dog with a humorous lilt in his tone and a sly smirk adorning his full lips.

"I'll see you at dinner, mother." Kyle said as he pecked his mother's soft cheek, earning a warm smile.

Live music floated about the town square where the townspeople hustled and bustled around the streets and the bazaar, in a dance of selling and buying goods.

The delicious smells of freshly made foods wafted throughout the marketplace: Malfuf Mahshi, rice and noodles, Bamia, Koshari, and Molokhia.

Kyle adjusted his white keffiyeh, ensuring his face was protected from the sun, sand, and the townspeople, simply so he could observe and blend in as a commoner to avoid being disrupted. Including ditching his palace robes for a lightweight, beige tunic and salwar pants to combat the dry, desert heat.

Gaz strolled beside Kyle, keeping on high alert while protecting his human. Though his nose would briefly drift when passing carts of various cuts of meat, yet he followed the prince with unwavering focus.

Kyle leaned against the corner of a clay-plastered wall of an alleyway, studying his city's people, and watched as they milled about. Children of all ages darted throughout the bazaar, gawking over jewels, silks, and weaponry. The prince's heart swelled with pride upon seeing the people happy and healthy. Trade was booming, and there were very few people that seemed to be struggling to make a day's wage.

He lowered his keffiyeh from his jaw to allow himself the pleasure of divulging in freshly baked, Egyptian flat-bread - aish baladi. Gaz sat at the prince's feet, in the shade, keeping a keen eye on the various people passing by.

Kyle cast a glance at his loyal companion, a gentle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He broke apart a piece of bread and held it discreetly in front of Gaz's snout, to which the pup happily accepted the offering.

A commotion broke out in the distance, pulling both Kyle and Gaz's attention away from the market, redirecting their attention on a quaint building where thin tendrils of white smoke curled out of the geometric lattice - a shisha cafe.

Kyle adjusted his keffiyeh once more, shielding his face, before casually strolling towards the commotion.

As he approached the red-clay, colored building, he was met with the sight of the cafe owner -an older, pudgy man with tanned skin and white, balding hair- forcibly removing a woman from his place of business.

The owner's large palm wrapped firmly around the woman's bicep before harshly shoving her into the dirt of the street where she landed with a thud on her side.

"Your kind isn't welcome here! And if I catch you in here thieving from my clients again, it's to the palace where you'll have your hand removed!" the owner shouted angrily as he chucked her bag at her feet.

A woman thieving in the city? Curious.

Kyle waited until the owner ducked back inside his cafe before nearing the scorned young woman.

She begrudgingly pushed herself up to rest on her hip as she snagged her bag from the dirt and dusted it off.

Kyle extended his hand towards the supposed thief, wanting to help her to her feet.

From behind her jeweled veil, the woman glared up at him with fierce, green eyes, reluctantly taking Kyle's hand.

"Thanks," she grumbled in a hint of annoyance, though he could feel it wasn't directed at him.

"A thief, huh?" Kyle inquired with a cocked brow. He watched as she dusted her salwars, trying to rid them of the sand from the street.

"No. Not entirely." the woman replied in a melodic voice.

Kyle took a moment to take in her appearance. Black, thick and wavy tendrils cascaded down her back, stopping at the middle of her back. An hour glass figure with a soft tummy on display in her off-the-shoulder bandeau, and ample hips adorned her frame, standing a head shorter than the prince.

He tried to get a better glimpse of her features under the red, organza material of her veil, supple lips, and a slender nose are all he could make out. But he had to admit he was enthralled by her appearance.

What was a beauty like her doing thieving? Don't you know how dangerous that is, dove?

"So what was that all about then?" Kyle asked with piqued interest, observing the attractive woman before him.

"Nothing to concern yourself with." she quipped with a sharp finality in her tone. "I must be off to work, seeing as my other plan didn't work." she muttered lowly, letting out an exasperated sigh as she turned on the heel of her worn moccasins.

Kyle couldn't help but admire her no-bullshit personality. This was one of the thrills he received when roaming the town in disguise. He was treated as another dweller, and not some righteous soon-to-be king.

"Ah, so getting kicked out of the cafe wasn't the intended plan?" Kyle remarked with a humorous lilt in his deep, velvety timbre.

The woman stopped in her tracks with tensed shoulders, her fists clenched at her sides in irritation.

Ohh. We're a bit spirited, aren't we, dove?

She whipped her head around to face the disguised prince, "Why're you so nosy? What do you want, anyway?" Her eyes drifted away from him when she caught sight of a well-dressed, middle-aged-man passing them by on the street, three gold bracelets donning each wrist.

"If you'll excuse me." She dismissed herself before gracefully weaving through the crowd, like a black widow about to trap a fly in her webs.

Kyle was left reeling from the interaction. The mistress had already left such an impression on him from such a quick interaction. But his curiosity didn't stop him from trailing her.

He set off after her, bobbing and weaving through the crowded marketplace until he caught sight of her red veil once more, disappearing down a lesser-crowded alleyway.

Kyle hid behind a crate at the end of the alleyway, peering around it to watch as the woman leaned herself against the wall and ran her hand over the man's chest in a seductive lure. The man is so focused on her eyes and her words, he doesn't even notice her collecting the expensive-looking gold bracelets from his wrists. As if in a trance, the man careens his head towards her neck, speaking in a hushed voice as she nabs his bracelets, one by one. She keeps up her allure by running her freehand in his hair, pressing her supple body closer to him.

"What on earth are you doing, dove?" Kyle mumbled to himself. He kept his eyes trained on the young woman, unable to tear his gaze away.

His eyes darted towards the purple glint of the jewels on her veil, nearly the same purple the dagger pouch made when in contact with sand.

But weren't they red before?

"Seems you have many secrets, little dove." Kyle quietly mused with a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip under the lightweight material of his keffiyeh. "Who are you?" he wondered quietly to himself.

Taglist: @pale-ghost-girl /@v1naco/ @starsofang

[mathanlin]

Hero/Hanahaki AU where vigilante!Tommy’s best friends with one of the League’s Enforcers.

Techno gives him food, warm coats, even hugs once they’re out of the League’s view. Tommy clings to his promise —“You’re like a brother to me.”

And then Techno turns on him.

“Tommy.”

Techno’s standing in the alleyway entrance, fingers white around his Enforcer’s baton. 

Tommy’s smile falters beneath his mask, arms falling from where he’d held them out (anticipating a hug).

“Please make this easy.”

Tommy’s gut goes cold even before Techno stalks forward.

“Tommy, please. I— I need this job. I’m sorry.”

Stupidly, Tommy almost forgets what he means by job. He’s always been Tommy’s friend first (...and maybe, just maybe, his brother.)

But he only looks like an Enforcer now.

Tommy stumbles back, shaking his head. “What? Techno, you— what are you—”

Techno squeezes his eyes shut, jaw tight with… grief?

Then he lunges. Tommy just *barely* dodges, crying out as the baton clips his shoulder.

And, driven by confused terror, he bolts. 

Techno chases. But this time, it’s not a friendly race, meant to escape the view of the League’s surveillance.

It’s a hunt. Tommy barely escapes, mask off so he can slap his hands over his mouth as Techno prowls nearby.

And then something prickles in his adrenaline-frozen gut.

He gags, desperately trying to stay silent.

It bubbles up anyways, pouring over his lips as he sobs in grief and terror. He can barely see it through his tears (ones he almost wishes Techno was here to wipe away).

The flower in his shaking hands, inky petals edged with crimson.

A black dahlia.

That’s all he learns, after he stumbles back to the half-collapsed warehouse he’s holed up in. A home he’d never shown to Techno — not out of mistrust, just shame.

It saves him now. 

But Tommy’s too broken with despair to care.

Techno corners him again a few days later.

But this time, it’s Tommy that begs first, hands lifted in surrender (not a request for a hug, for once.) “Techno? Please, I don't— what happened? Did I do something?”

(*Or are you just… doing your job?*)

And Techno… hesitates.

“Tommy,” he breathes, eyes shining with tears. “No, I just… I…”

Tommy swallows, daring to inch closer. His heart’s wailing for comfort, for *love,* and surely Techno wouldn’t hurt him. Not again.

Techno looks up, breath shuddering—

—and slams the baton into Tommy’s ribs.

It’s worse this time.

Tommy huddles in a storm drain, bruised chest aching with every blossom he heaves out. Petunias. Golden carnations. Hyacinths, more violet than the wicked bruise along his ribs.

And each choked-out flower and sob just makes the wound hurt worse.

The next time Techno finds him, Tommy’s done.

He’s paralyzed by exhaustion, flowers brimming beneath the mask he’d just managed to put on before Techno arrived, baton in hand.

So his words are muffled when he whispers, throat bloody, “Tec’no, please.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” Techno whispers, kneeling at his side. “It’s not… it’s not permanent, Tommy. The League won’t keep you forever.”

*But they’ll lock me up,” Tommy thinks, flinching as Techno grabs his wrist and pulls his arms away from his ruined chest. *They’ll hurt me.*

It’s a stupid, childish thought. Nothing could hurt him more than Techno has. 

At least he’s gentle when he snaps the cuffs around Tommy’s wrists.

But the agonizing coughs that bubble up Tommy’s chest are the furthest thing from soft. 

“Tommy,” he hears as he crumples.

It’s Techno’s voice, desperate and confused. It’s his hands that weave under Tommy’s shoulders as he heaves for air, head spinning with the cloying scent of blood and flowers.

And it’s Techno that cups his cheek.

And tears the mask off.

(The first thing Techno sees are the flowers, spilling out across the concrete in a vivid, brutal wave. Then, the blood, almost dull amidst the colorful petals.

Then, the pale, pain-twisted face below it.

The face of a kid.

If Techno could, he would’ve given up right there.

But the League’s already been called. Techno’s quota’s been filled, his job saved. His *family* saved.

And it’s too late to help Tommy now. 

All Techno can do is pray the League’s doctors can save him. Will *try* to save him, though they’ve never cared about injured Enforcers before, let alone *vigilantes.*

And that maybe Tommy doesn’t hate him too deeply.)

[stardustbee]

Our hearts are one by @kimageddon

Again a beautiful piece by @kimageddon and one that really means much for me because it is based on something @eloquentmoon wrote for me when I was feeling really down.

Please consider on getting a comission from Kima if you get the chance!

And also give El a little visit on her blog! She is a great writer and friend 💙

So Honey did allow me to post the little snipplet! I decided to put in here untouched as it is BUT this will definitely find its way into the story of Fly me to the Moon!

And if you are thinking that this Background doesn't really look like Star Wars AT ALL, then this is what I intend to! Because Fly me to the Moon is an AU and things are different there 😘

I imagine it like that there are opportunities where you can travel with trains through the Hyperdimensonal routes!

You'll find the snippet and some close ups under the cut!

══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════

Ayane sits on the edge of her seat, her hands gripping the arm rests so tightly that her knuckles are bone white. Her bright eyes are wide and fixed on the turbulence of the vivid blue tunnel in front of her. She watches each strand of light with wild focus, trying desperately to lose herself in the captivating swirls. The echoes of violence roar up and down her body, scars of the past ripping her apart from the inside out. The icy lick of hyperspace caresses her bare arms, and the cold air settles on and in her. The cool sensation does nothing to quench the heat of her agony, is not enough to soothe or to ease her sorrows. She feels a looming presence behind her that suddenly breaks her focus, and she knows that he is watching. She tries to relax, exhaling softly and leaning forward, strands of her long inky hair falling over her shoulders. 

"Good morning," she whispers softly. Tears threaten to fall down her pallid cheeks as she feels Maul's gloved hand rest on the back of her neck.  

His voice is rich, flooding her freezing body with the warmth she doesn't know she needs. "What troubles you, my dear Ayane?"

She is silent, and minutes pass. Her eyes slowly close, and she basks in the echo of his words, his concern. When she does not reply, Maul swiftly moves in front of her, kneeling to be at eye level with her. "You cannot speak it," he says, the reassurance of his understanding making the lump in her throat ease some. "Look at me."

She opens her eyes, and finds his golden irises staring back her, reading her. One look, and he knows. He believes. He can delve into her very core, the part of her that is him reaches out and clings on, like a frightened child desperate for familiarity.

"Your words may fail you, but your strength does not." His hand is then caressing her wet cheek, and she leans into his touch. She can feel the warmth of his palm, even through the leather of his gloves.

"Do not be disheartened, sweet Fairy. You will rise from this. You will find the words, and the strength within you will awaken once more."

She begins to nod in agreement, the fire inside of her that was raging now reduced to embers by his calm, undeterred belief. She feels the cold, the warmth, the spark.

"You are resilient," he whispers. And with those three words, he brings her back to life.

══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════

Tagging some of you! ♡ let me know if I shall add you!

@eloquentmoon @eyecandyeoz @elledjarin @oh-three @justalittletomato @dinsverdika @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @literatureandqueen @by-the-primes @kimageddon @corona-one @book-of-baba-fett @storm89 @botherbother-blog @misogirl828 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @inquisitorius-sin-bin @gran-maul-seizure @herbalina-of-yesteryear

[outlying-hyppocrate]

florian h. - hair a sea of pristine blonde waves, eyes piercingly yellow-green; flecks of teal, a spray of freckles across a strong nose, small golden metal hoops that pierce delicate ears like seashells, angelic expression, filthy mind

noah f. - a café-au-lait mark on a face of rounded features, disheveled amber curls, soft lips in a catlike smile, kind honey eyes, full fluttering lashes, forehead and chin dotted with picked-apart blemishes, truthful words, humorous tone

james k. - flat and unkempt mouse-brown hair, eyes coldly cerulean; bearing heavy circles of makeup underneath, callused fingertips from pressing on strings, gaunt-faced, restless and fidgeting limbs, stoic appearance, open heart

vivian s. - clear lenses possessing wiry frames; balancing on a small crooked nose, fluffy ringlets dyed shockingly red, wild but gentle eyes a liquid sepia, inky butterflies penned up and down scarred and unshaven arms, tender embrace, motherly disposition

lukasz c. - palely brown and tired eyes, half-tied ebony hair that spills across strong shoulders, a face softly blushing and well-defined, bitten and uneven nails, long and pointed nose, dry lips a faint rosy color, focused brain, calming actions

[babblish]

Under the Wave

Fandom: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)   Rating: Mature   Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships/Characters: Morgana, Nari, Bellroc, Skrael, Original Characters Theme: Origin Story (Wizards Non-Compliant), Explorations of Identity, Gender, Magic, Recovery, and Divinity

Chapter 26; A Familiar Recipe Morgana readies her plan to bring about the birth of a new type of polymorph troll but experiences some doubts along the way as she considers the realities of both trollish and human worlds.

Morgana poured out a solitary drop of essence from the spirit she had rendered, the pool changing to a radiating yellow, bathing everything in a golden light as if it were the captive sun. She continued her incantations, louder, forceful, as she channelled her knowledge and magic into the pool, everything of Nith, of Elanī, pouring her soul into the liquid in the hope she did not fail, in the hope she was not about to kill again.

She knelt down and held her hand over the fluid, feeling the magic radiating as if it wanted to burn the flesh from her bones. “Summon the whelp,” she said.

They all waited patiently, wordlessly, for the troll to descend down the obscene number of steps until Slornir made their way to the bottom, bundle in their arms, a vigilant goblin over each shoulder, and the king looming over them from behind.

Morgana took the child, determined not to quake at the weight of them. They were not the turquoise whelp she had witnessed hatch, instead a grey marble babe as Blörbo. They were older than the turquoise whelp, but by the looks of things, not by much. They looked at her with big golden eyes and growled in warning.

“You’re a fighter,” Morgana said as they wriggled against her grip. “That’s good, we need you to fight with everything you have.”

Maulgark approached them, and butted the whelp gently on the forehead. He then turned to Morgana and nodded sternly. “Do it.”

Morgana smiled at the whelp, and approached the edge of the pool. It was hard to keep a grip of the babe as it wriggled, and she let it fall into the fluid as they shrieked in shock, flailing for a moment before sinking beneath the surface like a rock. She swallowed her bile, the burning eyes of the trolls behind her, and continued her incantations, watching the waters begin to churn, froth and boil, an inky damning black.

Morgana repeated her final incantation and stopped. The waters still and sharp as obsidian. There was silence, as if not one of them dared to breath, and then the king put a heavy hand over Morgana’s shoulder, pressing down, pressing her to buckle.

“What now?” Maulgark asked gruffly.

Morgana exhaled and forced herself to smile behind her golden headdress. “Now we wait.”

— Ties in with Primordial Awakenings, Primordial Awakenings - Deleted Scenes, Under the Sun, and the rest of The Heart of Janus au.

[star-going-supernova]

Demons 101: A Comprehensive Compendium on All Things Demon and Demon-Adjacent 

Okay, so this is a little something I've been working on and because it's constantly being tweaked, I'm not ready to put it on ao3. I've been... kinda reworking, I guess, the worldbuilding from Inky Eyes, Golden Heart. Not just because a lot of it was scattered through asks or just vaguely mentioned in stories (which meant there was some variation here and there), but also because I like to hope I've grown as a writer and storyteller.

A lot of asks were answered on the spot with AU details that I just didn't put a lot of thought into. And that's fine, it's gotten me countless fun concepts to work with because my responses often played into the Yes And game or otherwise got me to think about something I hadn't considered before. But now I want something more cohesive.

Which is to say that some things have changed from back then. Not a lot (I don't think, haha), but there were certain worldbuilding things that I wanted to alter or expand on, and there's definitely contradictions now. It left me with a little bit of a conundrum because I wanted to share these new things with you guys but I knew I wasn't done figuring out how things work. So: a Google Doc!

The IEGH world is in flux right now and will continue to be for who-knows-how-long! If anyone wants to see a certain topic added, I'm totally open to suggestions! But I hope you guys enjoy seeing some of the old and new stuff. :)

As a final note: this document is actually a story. It's being written by a demon, so keep in mind that biases or a lack of knowledge in certain areas may exist. That being said, nothing is technically wrong.

read it on a google doc! lol

[cuddlykanin]

Demon! Henry Cosplay!

Last weekend, I dressed up as Demon Henry from @star-going-supernova 's Inky Eyes Golden Heart AU to go to a Renaissance Festival for cosplay weekend! Many people tested to see if I was able to see through the blindfold, and I had a lot of fun! I didn't exactly have the right colors for everything, but I'm assuming Henry doesn't wear the same outfit everyday so I think what I chose still works!

I started out with the wrong kind of horns (the ones I'm wearing are dragon horns), but while at the Renaissance Festival I found demon horns so I was able to fix it!

(I also decided that Henry would be adorable in a flower crown) When we got home, I tried to pose for some pictures, I'm not very photogenic but I tried my best!

(I was wearing glasses under the blindfold, so that's why it looks a bit weird) Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

[marie-lamb-b]

The Ink DeMonth. Day 26: Fave AU.

"Even if he has a heart of gold, would you trust a demon?"

And who this handsome guy must be? Unless you're aquainted with this marvelous AU, full of magic, mystery, shenanigans and a lot, A Lot of bromance, named Inky Eyes, Golden Heart, then whAT THE FRIDGE ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?! GO THERE AND READ IT!!

READ!!! IIIIIIIT!!!!!!!

Ok, enough rant x3

This AU was created by the brilliant and explosive mind of the sweet @star-going-supernova, and yes, it is my favorite AU, one that I go back once in a while because of all that I already said.

And this, everybody, is Henry. The demon that decided the Earth was beautiful and worth to be loved even if that meant sacrifice his own existence (not eating a single soul) in order to live and love the Earth, humans and life itself.

I'm not too good at coloring (I rather shade than color), but the description of this sweet, lovable demon was so colorful that couldn't be otherwise. So, come and enjoy some crappy technique on painting, still is my favorite AU and I was in debt with some sort of tribute to this precious story.

For the ones interested, most of the story is on AO3 under that name. Though you my also like to visit their blog since there's a lot of lore and side-stories that aren't anywhere else (like the bagel incident or the cursed dolls~).

And actually, I could keep rambling about this on and on and on... so better I left it 'til here ^^u

[aspectnotarized]

Had a lot of time for traditional art and Batim aus today. Here's @thelostmoongazer hatim Henry,

and then @star-going-supernova demon Henry and @doodledrawsthings Hell's studio Henry together, or as I like to think of them, the Henrys without terrible Joeys.

[brandyjin]

Inktober 2018 Day 20:

A Fancy Fish (Such a majestic, spectacular, fantastic merman...)

[So here’s the Joey from @star-going-supernova‘s Inky Eyes Golden Heart au. The merman form is come from the fic name “Raindrops and References” by @inkabelledesigns.]

<< Day 19 ||  Batim Au Inktober Master-list  ||  Day 21>>

[rosebloodcat]

Soo~ I went on a doodle spree. Most of them relate to my Vampire Henry AU. Some friends on discord also suggested I draw him meeting Henry’s from other AUs, so I did.

So we have My Vampire Henry from my @askvampirehenryau Rubberhose Henry by @yunisverse Demon Henry, and ToonAngel Henry from @star-going-supernova Toon Henry by @squigglydigg And a BendysDad Henry made by the wonderful @lepetiteinkmango and @the-elusive-blue-skittle