#let's just learn to only take things coming directly from their own mouths as facts pls

[vroombeams]

30. come play for markoscar

It's one of the simple pleasures in life, getting your dick sucked.

Mark's so bonelessly comfortable it should be illegal. Kicked back in his favourite chair, in his favourite robe, with late afternoon sun streaming in through the window and Oscar between his legs. He's not an animal; of course he's made sure Oscar's got a pillow to kneel on. He knows himself, and he knows these days, how he could sit here for hours with Oscar's mouth on him.

He knows when Oscar's gotten impatient because the suction turns up from about a seven to a seventeen.

He's gotten so good at this. At dragging it out, sucking Mark off in that long, languid way that he particularly likes. It's part of the charm of being a retired driver, learning to take things slow. But Oscar is not retired, in fact, and is significantly less inclined to stay patiently on his knees for actual hours.

Mark grunts when Oscar throats him. He makes this strangled noise when he does it, every time. Something that's almost a gag, that wraps back in on itself as Oscar swallows all the way down until Mark can feel the press of his nose in his pubes. He's not been looking, honestly. Staring instead up at the slats of light beamed across his living room wall, pondering the beauty of the universe and all that.

Oscar bobs his head, throat constricting. Mark grunts again, knee twitching, pressing a thumb to Oscar's shoulder.

"Gonna come," he sighs, and Oscar pulls up a bit to properly suck him off through it.

When he comes it's like the light of the room just sort of sinks into him. Warm and soft and golden, so completely satisfying that Mark could probably fall asleep right here and now. And he has before, knocked out after a good orgasm, the reverse of what he thinks Oscar might call post-nut clarity.

Mark hums, blindly tucking a bit of hair behind Oscar's ear as he starts to soften in his mouth. It's warm enough in here that when Oscar does pull off it's not a rush of cold air on his wet dick; still satisfying, still comfy.

He feels Oscar moving, only opens his eyes when Oscar actually climbs up into his lap. Mark's amenable. Obviously. If he were a decade or two younger he might even be able to get it up again and really give Oscar what he wants, but for now wanking him off will have to do.

Oscar's face is a bit pinched, which is par for the course, considering how hard he is when he presses up against Mark's stomach. He twists a dainty hand into the back of Mark's hair, plunges the other into his own sweats. Oh, good, Mark's not going to have to do any work at all. Huge W, as the kids say. Maybe he'll even be able to conk out for a nap after this.

He lets it happen when Oscar dips to kiss him. Opens his mouth to deepen it and—

He doesn't recoil, but he's admittedly just a bit shocked when Oscar dumps a mouthful of come directly onto Mark's tongue.

Mark has a normal relationship with his own come, which is to say he generally keeps it out of his own mouth. He's polite about it, of course, he's not a prude. Of course he'll kiss after Oscar blows him.

This is a bit much to wrap his brain around.

But Oscar doesn't let up and Mark's really too stunned to stop it. And it seems like it's really doing it for Oscar; he's moaning a bit, sucking on Mark's tongue, fist speeding on his dick between them.

He comes in record time, basically seconds after Mark gets with the program and starts—ugh—pushing his own come around between their mouths. It's a real mess, spilling out a bit when Oscar breaks away to groan. Even more a mess, Oscar coming all over Mark's bare chest where he's left his robe open.

Oscar sits back. His mouth is wet and sticky and shining vaguely pearlescent. There's a thick bead of come running down his chin. It'd be extremely appealing if Mark weren't hyper-aware of it smeared all over his own face.

"Nice," Oscar says, exhausted, running his whole hand through the mess of jizz on Mark's chest and making it much, much worse. A shower is going to be unavoidable, now.

So much for getting a post-blowie nap in.

send kink(s) and a ship(s) and maybe i will write more hell things

[i-love-yoi]

Your first kiss

Characters: RW Omori Gang (Sunny, Basil, Aubrey, Mari, Kel, Hero.)

TW: Actions occur after the death of Mari, Suggestive, Fluff, Romantic Relationship, GN! Reader, alcohol.

The most interesting thing that began writing this on March 1, and finished on April 12. In fact, the reason for the absence was that we are the last trimester, control and independent, so I try to learn how much it is more likely to study that there is no triple in the year. You should think, already next year I will go to 9 grade and I'll need to ren PSE ... (public state exam(in Russian is OGE)) and I have issued from school, oh ... And I also repaired on Kazuha (Genshin) and was engaged in characters. Mona was falling, but hope is dying the last.

Sunny

• Okay, let's immediately understand that the first step is to explicitly you-

• Well, it's too humulated for this.

• But of course he will not show it.

• But even thinking about this, it can be easily seen as its pale cheeks acquire a more pinky or red tint.

• But be sure, in the world of dreams, he is the mild bird.

• In the world of dreams you will be like that innocent and unsure anime with a schoolboy, and he's like a real man, having dragged you to myself for the waist, embrace, pressing itself, and you will find your sweet lips on your own, slightly suysid your lower lip, and sharing a more good kiss with you.

• But this is only in the world of his dreams and dreams, in reality he did not even immediately start you hugging, even if you consisted in a relationship for the month of so 5-

• Yes, he can be hung on touch and tactical after the one of the 4th of the year was held, and where his listeners were only 4 of his walls, and the pillow with the blanket, but act first he is afraid, not used to.

• It's better to start with the help of he kisses you on my own cheek so that he himself decides to do so, and not you asked him.

• This will be great progress.

• But I do not think that you can wait for this long time.

• Therefore, if you want to finally normal kisses, everything is in your hands.

• One day you sat along the bednuny bed, about what's bolt, honestly, you do not really feel and remember what you've already said there.

• At one point, you just looked directly into the eyes of the Sunny, not blinking and not taking a look, looking straight into your eyes.

• From this guy slightly foamed, porrhea, and his eyes began to run around the parties, not wanting to keep injured so long.

• You approached him stronger, why your faces were pretty close, so that you have been fully facing his nose with their nose, pressed against each other.

• Now the Sunny was to bring his view, besides how to watch directly in your eyes.

• You severely sighed if it was preparing for something grandiose, which was clearly grandiose.

• A little tilt the head in the side, having released more space, you have even slightly approached face to his face, covering his lips with her.

• He had pretty cold lips and rough, but it did not interfere with you.

• The face of the guy was changed in surprise, and the cheeks were blown as never before blogged.

• He faded the breath, did not move and just as if the goldenbel, turning into a clean stone.

• He held the breath for so long that you were even afraid that he will now fall into the overestimate of oxygen starvation.

• You slightly cover the torso guy with hands, pressing yourself, and trying to deepen the kiss.

• If you are trying to do this, then nothing will come.

• Suddenly you felt like the Sunny slightly walked, and his wet from the saliva tongue slightly began to penetrate you into the mouth, exploring the new territory for him, like a cat that he studied a new apartment.

• This swung you into the shock, but the shock quickly replaced at satisfaction and enjoyment, and you split your languages together, like a chain.

• The language was treated on each other, like sometimes your bodies, because from euphoria, your hormones jumped throughout the body, forcing your back of the body slightly grind.

• In the kiss you then and it's slightly and rarely, but they made from the same pleasure.

• You pressed each other as you can be stronger, as if trying to just merge into one whole, absorbing each other.

• Soon you fall on the bed, Sunny lying on my back, and you lying on it.

• Finally, wherever the minutes of the free, you will freeze your mouth, and from the languages the bridges brings out, which is later destroyed because of the great distance between languages.

• You both are red and red slightly breath.

• Sunny slightly acquires you behind the back in mind, stroking.

• Well, for you two, it was clearly amazing and unforgettable experience, is not it?

Basil

• Listen, for him the recognition-the highest degree of courage and dominance, seriously.

• He and so not very self-confident and calm boy.

• Yes, it seems to me, Basil 24/7 is a wide variety of, but basically disturbing thoughts.

• And they eat it 24/7.

• Of course, when you spend time with you, for it time for them, and they are muffled, but not completely.

• The felt of the most disturbing thoughts continue to overtake it and punish, asmeniously organic parasites, eating by the affording and reflecting it completely, for example as ascarids.

• Because of this, as I think, for Basil recognition in love would be the highest degree of courage, at least for him.

• So, again, the whole destiny of your relationship with Basil is only in your beautiful handling.

• In fact, I advise you to start with gentle and brief kisses in the cheeks or foreheads, such gentle and children's, that you did not dream.

• It is a kind of preparation or something on the like.

• After making the kiss this first time, you will already understand that I mean under the preparation.

• Only from a kiss in the forehead will be quite embarrassed and even blinks.

• First, as I think, it is because the Basil is quite difficult to adapt to changes in life, again because of the alarming thoughts.

• He was afraid that you rejected it, he was afraid of losing you, as one day lost Sunny, that he promised to be together, sharing their hard wear, and in the end he himself and locked in his home for 4 years.

• After all, as they say: "Sunflower can not survive without the sun, but the sun can safely live without a sunflower."

• And you became his personal sun, which is finally with him.

• I also think that Basil has little received compliments, and in general attention from the parents and yes.

• Being a quiet and hard shining, it was difficult for him to attract anyone's attention, and he only quietly sat in his company's friends, enjoying their conversations, and not deciding to intervene in them.

• So kissing, even such tiny and children for him were something new and clearly pleasant that forced his heart to take strikes, forcing blood to faster the vessels, and throwing adrenaline to the blood.

• Therefore, I advise, let's say, it is prepared.

• It will get used to it soon, but do not need to wait for full addiction, it is enough to achieve a less rough reaction of his body to a children's kiss, and you can already get to more interesting and magical.

• But I think your first kiss went not in the most pleasant events or not in the most pleasant scenario.

• You often went home to Basil, at least because you liked their flowers, their petals and how they blossom.

• But of course, mostly you were there in order to have a pleasant time with your boyfriend, Basil.

• Memories, stories, reading, his stories about various plants and photos, you liked everything so much.

• When you come to the house, you were met by Polly, as usual.

• She was a cute and good woman, and also glad that you support Basil, making it clearly happier.

• Approaching the door, going to knock, warning about his arrival, you could hear some kind of bomping and a little shippers.

• Oh.

• Sometimes, although not even sometimes, and often the Basil had some break low.

• The anxiety covered his body, and the brain forced him to absorb all the alarming thoughts and memories, allowing anxiety only to be rooted in his psyche, he was wearing strongly than before.

• You decided not to knock, and they entered quietly, closing the door behind you, not wanting to frighten the Basil.

• He did not tell you that he was worried or anxious, apparently, completely unaniming to you, so you could not just run it around him and allow him to get all their problems and alarm again to himself.

• It was hurt to see you as he trembled, cold sweat drained on his forehead, tears drained through the cheeks, and his breath is stolen and breathes it through the mouth.

• He's a non-hit, something forgivent for me, vigied himself and repeated only one thing: "Do not go away from me. Do not leave me."

• You quietly came to it, slightly worshiping to try to see his face.

• What did he go out of you.

• More specifically, what you found it in this state.

• He believed that if you attach it in such a state, then consider it a pathetic, because the majority believed it is not?

• It was hysteria, nervous breakdown.

• His voice broke down, broke and sometimes moved to high tones.

• He grabbed you for the shoulders, repeating only that you do not leave it, did not leave it and what he is sorry for him.

• He did not want to stay alone again.

• He did not want to stay again withdrew with these horrific thoughts and fault, which day from the day he devourced him.

• You tried to calm it, but he did not even listen, so you have moved to radical measures.

• Yes, you invaded completely in his personal space, without demand, but another way out, most likely, you would not come up with.

• Your soft lips cover it slightly swollen lips, forcing it finally shut up.

• The taste of saltity from the tear was felt in your mouth, but it was not so salty to make you offset from such soft and warm lips.

• You seem to be merged into one whole, enjoying the proximity and attachment of each other.

• First you did not feel any movements from Basil.

• And only a few minutes that he seemed to be embarrassed, giving up your dominance.

• He opened his mouth, which allowed you to move further and make this kiss more sweet.

• Your language, your muscle went through the Basil mouth, a little exploring the new area and flew out in a beautiful and sweet dance with another mouse, with the language of the Basil.

• I assure you, you clearly could hear like that slightly Whining while a kiss.

• Well, it became clear the brightest event for both of you.

Aubrey

• Consider that there are at least a little, but you can rest.

• As for me, adult Aubrey is a roundline and more closed than her junior version.

• Although, it is understandable.

• In her childhood, she had friends, she was happy, spending time with friends, even with a chalet.

• But these her friends were betrayed, threw, left one then when he needed their support and love most.

• She remained one, starting to rot and bend, like a sweet fruit without the departure of the garden.

• Also, the problems in the family, especially with the mother, she was affected.

• That love that she had from the mother before, changed on the cold, drunk pigs, and maybe beat.

• Her betrayed all, at least, she believed so.

• Have they seen it like her badly? Did not they understand how she needs their help!?

• Apparently, no.

• Therefore, Aubrey is pretty closed and not trusting.

• She is like a watermelon, a hard outside, but soft, sweet and fragile inside.

• Therefore, you will be difficult with her, as I think.

• They look with Basil by the fact that both do not want to remain again alone, but unlike Basil Aubrey hides his real feelings, because of pride or fear.

• Although, after recognition, it will begin to show the paint it.

• This can be an unprecedented holding hand or for the waist, closing to himself, as if they wish to be with you next to always.

• Well, the first who knows about your relationships, it will be Berly, because Berly is closest to it from the rest of the friends.

• If you did not consist in the bullee group, then you will be treated with a small contempt first, but quite soon you will become part of their family.

• You can think that because of Aubrey is pretty closed, this does not mean that it is shy to show you attachment in society or, God forbid, shy you.

• Oh, there is no, on the contrary, it is proud and even sampling you.

• You, mostly, always together, if you do not count those moments when you sit in your homes or in different places, but even despite this, you often refresh with it, talking about what only can you.

• You loved to sit together, next to it, and you can only chat about what.

• Especially from the abandoned lake with a berth and an old statue.

• Sitting on the shore, on the soft grass, you enjoyed a calm water of the water, which created different lace patterns because of a small wind.

• The wind was widely disposed of the water moisturizing and the pleasant smell of the lake.

• You liked to watch nature, and you were often distracted.

• Sitting on a soft grass, you looked attentively at the calm gesture of water, watching her movement.

• Aubrey noticed that you did not listen to it and just looked at the water, and began to call you.

• However, you did not even tear.

• After a minute, you felt how someone's fingers gently touched your chin, gently turning your head.

• In the same moment, your lips were covered by foreign hips, slightly blank, but all the same sweet.

• Your eyebrows have expanded to a second of a second, and you realized that you have so stolen the first kiss, but after, just slightly covering your eyes, you just succeeded with the pleasure, catching the moment.

• Heart faster the knob, pumping more blood, until the blood of the adrenaline is on the vessels.

• You dade, like cold ice cream on the filling sun.

• And this sun was Aubrey.

• You are ready to fall into its embraces, casing to it as strong as possible, if you want to merge into one whole, in one soul and body.

• You even stopped breathing for a moment, wishing that this moment remains eternal.

• But nothing lasts forever, it's still something that ends or changes.

• And however it was not sorry for it, but you had to stump from the Sweet lips of Aubrey, all the timely enviable data of the event.

• This Aubrey is just a bit smootherse, but very cute and giggled.

• Now, each time seeing this place, you two satisfy the same moment, and sometimes I repeat.

Mari

• Here you again double, and the group of friends again went to find ... who? Ah, it's already not important.

• Have you ever traveled with a group of friends, but why? Honestly, it's not clear whether you were weak or just did not want to be solved.

• But you had to stay alone with Mari, chat with her, something to discuss with her, and just spend time.

• But most of all you liked her touch and attachment.

• Her gentle feminine striking your head, deferring your strands from time to time, enjoying their texture.

• Your head is resting on the lap of Mari while the one sitting on the plate for a picnic with a plate of fruit, enjoyed your society and hair.

• You just like the only cat's pleasure, a pleasant smile enjoyed the Larad Mari.

• Suddenly, Mari came an idea to his head, and she immediately wanted to hear it.

• "Hey, Y / N, you want to play in one game game? Immediately tell you, this game is on trust! You must close your eyes and open my mouth, I'll put you something in your mouth, and you must say and guess what it is!"

• You agreed on this, even if you slightly nervous, hoping that Mari does not drain you in the mouth of the dusty rabbit, wholesaler milk or that either.

• No, you knew that Mari's good and not so evil to wip your mouth outlook products, but even the closest and kind person can fall into your back knife.

• You covered your eyes and opened your mouth, waiting.

• The first was the Mari's cookies, you immediately guessed this!

• It was sweet and slightly foam.

• Then there was bitter chocolate, because of which you wanted to drink to get rid of the bitterness.

• On the third round you felt a soft and gentle on your lips.

• It was clearly not food, but something else, something more sweet than sweets and more tender than pastel shades of different colors.

• You were curious that this is, or more precisely who is this?

• However, sweetness and enjoyment of this only striked your curiosity, forcing you to slightly pull up, and opening my mouth, stretch out the language.

• Your language met with another language, flewing together, as if a node, and not wanting to branched, wanting to remain forever forever.

• Boiling blood was pushed to your cheeks, giving out your feelings about this situation.

• Your eyelids have slightly trembling from pleasure, it's so cute and innocently looked from the side.

• This all lasts five minutes.

• It seemed another minute and you just faint from the heart or the attempt temperature in the body.

• You felt your lips again became free and slowly revealed your eyes.

• All as if changed light, it became more warm colors, but the beautiful purple sky was covered even more beautifully.

• You have seen the colorful, but the deep and satisfied face of Mari, and you immediately guessed that this, or more precisely, who was it.

• But you were only glad that this happened, having preserving this memory, and when repeating this situation, covering the marces from satisfying the situation.

Kel

• Oh, honestly, you were generally difficult to build up and develop your relationship.

• First, Kel for a long time had to get used to the fact that you are not just his best friend, but already a partner for love, with whom, perhaps, he had to spend the rest of the life.

• Well, in addition, no matter how Kel does not seem simple and easily susceptible, he is a few days, if not weeks, he behaved like this most obsessed fanware with a meeting with his cumir.

• Yes, what to say here, your diet is spruce grown less interesting to romantic meetings, not meetings of friends, and kissing in the cheek almost became acceptable.

• Although you really liked it to thus or not to relieve a retest in a basketball in a chest.

• You often went to the Kel's competition, loudly and brightly supporting its command.

• The breaks were silent to it, slightly bolting and maintaining it.

• And here, the last round, and Kel swears the basketball in the ring, adding the last and decisive point of his team, winning.

• Descending from the rostrum, you ran to Kel, joyfully congratulating it.

• It was seen that he was glad and excited.

• Kel has always been an active and emotional boy, expressing his true emotions without shame and conscience.

• He was very happy, so much that I even slightly bounce on the socks, slightly putting his hands.

• His smile was stretched almost up to the ears, showing his teeth in all his pain.

• Noticing how you came, he, not thinking, grabbed you for the shoulders, having dragged on his chest and tightened you in a deep kiss.

• His rubber lips covered your tightening and pleasure.

• It would seem like such simple movements, and in your heart has already storm with hurricanes, which make your butterflies in the stomach like to live, and score with their wings, in an attempt to take off, thereby tickle your belly.

• Honestly, you did not even stop it, you did not even want to stop trying to stop it.

• Roy of pleasant feelings so tightened you to this beam of pleasure, which you already had everything, did he sweat everything, or did you look at our two of his team.

• You have already been.

• All you wanted is so that this moment is preserved forever.

• For you, two world was suspended, you were like something on the whole world.

•After a while, you deepened this kiss, already surprising Kel, and thrusting your tongue, which, like a snake, crawled into Kel’s mouth, intertwining with someone else’s tongue.

•The pressure of pleasure and pleasure overwhelmed both of you, forcing you to press closer to each other.

•Kel's arms slid down, wrapping around your waist, pressing down on you.

•It was as if you were eating each other.

•But nothing lasts forever, ever, and this is sometimes a great pity.

•You pulled away from each other, blood pulsating in your vessels, forcing you to catch your breath slightly so that your thermoregulation would work.

•Suddenly, you remembered that in fact you were not alone and turned to Kel’s team.

•Everyone had eyes like balls, and some even had their mouths open.

•It turns out that Kel has not yet had time to tell them that you are now not just friends, but already lovers, and this is the reaction.

•Well, now Kel is expected to be teased by his team, but this is not so important, because the most important thing is the feelings that you both felt then.

Hero

•Oh, winter, winter, such a magical and pleasant time of year.

•There are many holidays in winter: New Year, Valentine's Day, and in Russia Maslenitsa.

•But now it’s December 31st, and you and Hero are already sitting at a not-so-large table full of various delicious foods.

•These include salads, sweets, and even fruits.

•You spent almost the whole day preparing food and cleaning his apartment.

•Yes, you celebrated the New Year in Hero’s rented apartment.

•Why not? What's the point of celebrating New Year alone when you can celebrate it with your loved one?

•Having fun cooking and cleaning, you both, already a little tired, sat at the table, discussing something.

•Surprisingly, you two managed to eat while cooking, and now you two were absolutely full.

•Honestly, this is your first New Year's Eve together in this relationship, and you were clearly glad that you could spend it together, growing closer to each other.

•The clock struck twelve, your glasses were filled with champagne, and with the joyful cry of people on the street and the majestic striking of the clock, you each made your own wish to yourself as you drank your glass of champagne.

•The most interesting thing is that this is the first time in 19 years that Hero drinks, or even tries alcohol, so he gets drunk pretty quickly.

•And already drunker, he began to cling to you, like a koala clinging to trees.

•His face is slightly red from the alcohol, he hugs you tightly, resting his head on you, and in a slightly unintelligible voice he says how much he loves you.

•Lifting his head and pulling away from you, he gently caressed your cheeks, pulling your face towards his and kissing your lips passionately.

•The smell and taste of alcohol appeared in your mouth, making you wince slightly.

•But despite this, you were only on the contrary drawn to him, and moving closer to him, you only deepened the kiss, intertwining your tongues, as if tying the knot like at a marriage ceremony.

•His hands roamed over your face, straightening your hair and stroking your cheeks, while your hands roamed over his body, stroking his chest.

•But the kiss, unfortunately, did not last long; later Hero became ill due to alcohol, and he pulled away from you, leaning his back on the back of the furniture.

•Even if it was a short kiss, it was clearly very bright and sweet, making your brain remember every moment of this event.

[arduouslove]

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn 06

genres: hybrid, romance, found family, slow burn(ish) series rating: mature (mentions of/references to death and abuse. eventual smut) chapter warnings (may contain spoilers): mentions of death. accusations of drugging/roofie-ing. descriptions of injury to the face. the reader character cooks meat; if you don't eat meat, please think of it as them just cooking it for other people. relationship(s): ot7 x female reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

The floor is cold when you wake up on it, though not as cold as it could be, so you must've been sleeping on the floor for at least a couple hours. As you sit up, you try to get on your knees, but find your legs tangled up in half of a throw blanket. You grumble, touching one hand to the side of your head, where you had to have laid directly on the floor rather than the throw pillow you can see pushed under the coffee table. Okay, you're definitely not telling Hoseok your head kind of hurts. He's already enough of a worrywart. Speaking of...

Looking up at the couch, you see Hoseok's sleeping face smushed against the cushion, his hair ruffled all over and his mouth slightly open. Upon closer inspection, a small wet spot of drool has grown on the couch cushion directly under his mouth. You grimace at that but quickly shake the split second of disgust away. It's just saliva; it'll wash out just fine.

You untangle yourself from the blanket, and when you stand up, you drape it over Hoseok's sleeping form as quietly as you can. Yawning, you head to the kitchen, first filling your kettle and turning it on, then moving to the other side of the counter and unplugging your phone from the wall. As the screen flicks on, you see a missed call from Lee Minhyuk from only a few minutes ago, and a text from him that followed soon after.

It seems I forgot to leave one last thing to you. I found it in our storage this morning. I'll be in my office all day if you'd like to come and pick it up. Otherwise, please let me know by phone call.

As professional as always, this guy. Glancing over at the microwave, you take note that it's only 8:56AM, which isn't that early for someone like him, but still. Lee Minhyuk is punctual, you'll give him that. Well, you suppose if you head out soon, you could get back before ten, depending on what it is Minhyuk forgot to give you. Some paperwork, maybe. He did say before that Mr. Jung had liquidated everything he owned other than the motel... You wonder what it could be.

Not wanting to wake your two house guests up, you stop the kettle before it can beep to signal that it's boiled and pour the hot water over a tea bag in a to-go mug to let it steep while you get changed. You sneak on tip-toes back to your room, and you move your hand as deftly as possible on your bedroom doorknob, focusing on your feet as you step in and close the door behind you. Bee-lining to your dresser, you tug off your pyjamas and pull on some fresh clothes as quietly as you can.

But when you turn around, Jimin is sitting up in your bed and looking at you with a frown.

"Oh my gosh!" You jump and pat a hand over your heart, taking a sharp breath in at the sudden sight of him. He barely reacts, just raising one of his eyebrows at you, his bottom half still snug under the comforter. "How long were you just sitting there?"

Eyes still half closed, Jimin says, "Long enough."

"Oh. Well..." Embarrassment trickles along your veins knowing he watched you trying to quietly sneak in. He looks too tired and uninterested to care about the fact that you changed right in front of him, though. There goes your confidence in your own sex appeal. "...Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine." His words come out short and curt, and you can't quite pinpoint why, but you get a weird feeling as you try not to narrow your eyes. He flips the covers off himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, using his hands at his sides to push himself off and stand. His eyes dart around your room. "Where are my clothes?"

You blink. "Oh. They're in a hamper in the bathroom. I was planning on putting them through the wash and then making something to eat." Of course, stopping by Lee Minhyuk's office threw a tiny wrench in those plans, but still, you weren't expecting this from Jimin as soon as he woke up. Whatever this is.

Just as he tries to exit your bedroom, you move to stand between him and the door, your hand held up. Jimin stops himself before either of you touch, and he frowns slightly when you go, "Whoa, hold on. What's the hurry?"

"I have to go back."

"Go back?" you echo, confusion tinged in your voice, but Jimin doesn't bother. He gently puts a hand on your wrist and moves you out of the way, which you let him do all too easily in your stupor. Go back? To the streets? Blinking and shaking yourself out of it, you turn to follow him into the bathroom, where you watch him find his dirty clothes at the top of the pile in the hamper. "What do you mean?"

Jimin doesn't look at you as he focuses on unbuttoning his pyjama top. "She's looking for me."

Sputtering, you completely miss the fact that Jimin is taking off his clothes right in front of you. "Rayoung?"

Even though he doesn't answer you, the determined look in his eyes tells you you're right. He slips on his old clothes and pushes past you again.

"She is?" You struggle to follow both him and his words, stepping into the main living space after him. "How do you know--"

Jimin whips around, and you almost bump into him, but your feet screech to a halt directly in front of him. He glares at you with those piercing brown eyes. "She loves me," he says.

Your mouth opens and closes like those dogs in kids movies they'd feed peanut butter to so it'd look like they were talking. You can't say what you think, no, that would be too harsh. You can't just say outright that someone who loves him wouldn't leave him to live miserably like he did. But, what can you say? You don't want him to go back to where he was, even if what he thinks of Rayoung is true... not when you have something within likeness of a solution so close to falling in your grasp. You were planning on going to the motel this evening with Hoseok -- and, ideally, Jimin -- to scope out the building better and finally figure out what the hell you're doing.

"Jimin..." You hold yourself back from reaching out to him, knowing that your touch might be the last thing he wants. "At least eat something..."

"I'm not hungry," he tells you, and with the conviction he puts behind the words, you almost believe him.

"C'mon, at least a bite--"

"No!"

Jimin's sudden volume startles you, and your eyes go wide as he pushes both hands against you, causing you both to stumble back a step. You stare at your feet for half a second before looking back up at him, a breath of a laugh tainted with disbelief puffing past your lips. "What--"

"Don't come any closer!" He wraps his arms around his chest and scrunches his eyes shut. "I don't know what was in that fucking tea, but you can't keep me here." His back turns to you. "Rayoung was right. I can't trust anyone."

Completely thrown off, you straighten up slowly, his words settling in your brain. "...Excuse me?"

Jimin says no more, simply standing there in the foyer with his back turned, shielding himself from... you.

Roused from his deep slumber, Hoseok appears next to you. His hair is tousled and pressed flat against the side of his head that he slept on, but the sight isn't as endearing as it would be if you weren't so baffled by what Jimin just said. Taking one step in front of you, Hoseok puts a hand on your arm before you've even realized you went to get closer to Jimin, one hand up and pointed at him.

"You--" Hoseok's firm grip on your arm stops you from getting far, and as he pulls you partway behind him and your shoulder bumps into his back, you lower your voice to a whisper. "You think I drugged you?"

With his head down low, Jimin still refuses to respond. His entire body trembles, fear coursing through him like rapids under his skin. Even you can see it.

But something fogs over your rationality.

"Are you serious right now? I didn't-- I would never--" You try to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in your throat and only serves to fuel this ugly feeling inside your chest. "You're delusional."

Hoseok hushes out your name, a warning of sorts, or maybe something closer to a plea. You don't hear it past the ringing in your ears.

"And it's not because of anything in my fucking tea," you continue. "No, you know why you're delusional?"

Hesitantly, Jimin turns around half-way, his frowning profile causing that awful roiling in you to flare up.

"Because even though you've been living on the streets for months, starved enough to root through restaurant trash bins, abandoned by the very person who supposedly loves you--" Something flashes across Jimin's eyes, but you have no grasp of what it is. "--you still think she's coming back for you."

No one says anything for a second -- too long, and Hoseok's hand slides down your arm and gently wraps around your wrist. You tug it out of his grasp with a sharp inhale. "So let's just go," you say, walking to where you keep your car keys. The jingle-jangle as you pick up your keys is the only sound in the apartment aside from your footsteps. "I'll take you right now. Near Antonio's, right? She left you around there and that's where you think she'll go looking for you?"

Hoseok softly calls your name again, but you don't hear him. Jimin only follows you with angry eyes.

"I was on my way out anyway," you continue. With your hand already on the doorknob, you slip on your shoes. "So yeah, I have no problem with dropping you off on your own with nowhere to go." You pull the door towards you and step out, eyes still on your feet. "Where you have no sure way of getting food."

Jimin doesn't look at you as he puts on his shoes.

"Where Hybrid Services already know your face--"

Your words choke to a stop when you look down the hall towards the elevators. That damned fluorescent yellow armband you had no business caring about a couple days ago -- two of them -- appear in your sight just a few metres away, directly in front of the apartment-next-door's open entrance, where your neighbour to the right, Anne-Marie, is talking to the two officers.

Without uttering another sound, you push Jimin back inside your apartment as quickly and overtly as you can. Unfortunately, this means you achieve that by shoving your hand in Jimin's face, but your head isn't exactly in the right place to think about hiding-someone-away etiquette.

"Wha--?! Stop--!"

"Shh!" You make frantic eye contact with Hoseok while Jimin glares daggers at you. At this point, you know you can't just go back inside yourself; both the officers and your neighbour have probably seen you already. You keep your voice as quiet as you can, hoping the boys can still hear you with their weird hybrid powers. "Both of you, not a peep. Got it?"

You don't wait for either of them to answer before you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut in their faces. As soon as you look back down the hall, both officers, a man and a woman, and Anne-Marie are looking at you.

"Good morning," you greet with a slight bow, completely unsure of what to do or say next.

Would asking some sort of question be suspicious? Or would trying to walk by and ignoring them be even worse?

Either way, you have to get to the elevator...

Before you have to decide, (or maybe after you already should've, considering the awkward silence,) Anne-Marie waves you over with a slight frown. "Leaving so early today?"

"Ah..." You nod at her with a strained smile as you walk up to her and the officers, making sure to smile and nod at them too in that weird, you're not really part of this conversation but you're standing here so I'll try to include you sort of way. "Yes, I have some errands to run this morning."

Anne-Marie doesn't question you, thank goodness, and just gestures towards the officers. "Well you should hear them out before you go," she says. "Apparently there's a feral hybrid on the loose."

"Feral hybrid?"

You don't have to fake the initial look of concern that appears on your face, but the way you deepen your frown at the flyer one of the officers hands you is definitely for show.

"Yes," he confirms, face stiff and almost bored from repeating the words so many times to all the residents in the building already. "He ran away from a hybrid clinic in the city and was last spotted in this neighbourhood."

Anne-Marie nods along as he speaks and shakes her head when he points out the area the hybrid was spotted last night on a small map included in the flyer. "So close to home..." she mutters, which he ignores.

Continuing after him, the female officer speaks up. "We're doing rounds to make sure everyone living in the area is aware of the risks of a feral hybrid, as well as inform everyone of the proper procedure."

"Which is...?"

"Do not approach," the man tells you as your eyes finally focus in on the two pictures of the feral hybrid, one from the front and another of his profile. In both photos, he's smiling, eyes bright. "It's dangerous for regular citizens to attempt to capture feral hybrids. Leave it to the professionals and call Hybrid Services upon encounter."

He doesn't look so dangerous.

His smile is wide and almost boyish, like someone told him he was posing for a photo op rather than the strange hybrid-version of a mug shot it actually is. He holds up his name placard like it's an award he's proud of. "V," it reads, then a bunch of numbers underneath. His animal ears are perked straight up, and you can't tell what kind of ears they are in the grainy black-and-white pictures, not to mention how small they look compared to Hoseok's. Still, the deepness of his smile, the happiness in his eyes and the scrunch of his nose -- you're not scared at all.

You don't say any of that, though.

"I'll keep an eye out, thank you," you say with a polite smile. "What kind of hybrid is he?"

The two share a look, the female officer grimacing before she turns back to you. "That's unfortunately classified information."

"What? Why? Wouldn't it help us be safer and more prepared if we know what he looks like?" You turn to make eye contact with Anne-Marie, who drinks in your words and nods with a slight frown towards the officers, a finger propped concernedly on her chin.

The man sighs. "As much as I agree with you, these pictures are the only images any of us have to go off of. Even Hybrid Services hasn't been informed of his sub-species. It's private information belonging to the clinic, and legally, we don't need to have it to apprehend the hybrid."

"I see..."

After thanking them again and giving your due goodbyes, you do your best not to turn around and watch the officers as you wait for the elevator. You step into the elevator, and as your finger finds the button for the ground floor, you peak down the hall and let out a breath of relief. The officers seem to have skipped your door because you already spoke to them.

It would probably be suspicious to re-enter your apartment so soon while they're still patrolling your floor, you think. The last thing you need right now is Hybrid Services finding a reason to look into you.

And, maybe, you need a minute to yourself. Just to breathe.

You hadn't meant to snap at Jimin like that, it just... So much doesn't make sense to you. You've barely had Hoseok around for a few days, but you feel as though your friendship is something already. Maybe not something to be proud of, exactly, but it's something.

Jimin... you've known him for even less time, if you could even call that "knowing" him at all. And yet, you felt this strange surge of protectiveness over him.

You really hope that isn't part of the saviour thing Hoseok spoke of before...

Sighing into the empty elevator, you try not to think about the fact that it probably is, and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Your car keys are still in your hand, the shape imprinted into your palm from how hard your nerves had made you grip them between your fingers while you talked to the officers.

You take the coward's route and run away.

Lee Minhyuk's office building isn't that far in terms of distance, but the traffic around it is pure hell. It gives you much too much time alone with only your thoughts. You try to drown them out with whatever is on the radio, but even that can't seem to calm the disquiet within you. The more you think about the things you said, the more regret builds in your gut. What right did you have to say those things to Jimin? Sure, you think it's a fool's dream to believe this Rayoung girl is out there searching for him, but to purposefully shut him down like that? To crush that dream just because you got offended by emotions he was completely valid in feeling? Just because he's been scarred by humans before and you happen to be one? It's not his fault that he thought you might've drugged him, it's a product of--

"Ah, you're here."

Blinking, you realize that your body went on autopilot and walked you up to Lee Minhyuk's office without you knowing, and you watch his back as he goes to sit at his desk.

"Yeah I... got your text," you say dazedly, unsure of anything else you could possibly say in the moment.

"Well, it's good that you came. I wouldn't want you to go without this." Minhyuk holds his hand out, and you step closer to his desk to let him drop whatever the thing he forgot is in your awaiting palm.

A single key stares up at you, attached by a small ring to a simple metal tag.

Silver Meadows Columbarium, it reads.

"Oh."

Moving the key to your fingers, you flip over the tag and read lot C 258 on the back. You'd never heard of Silver Meadows Columbarium before. Never needed to...

"I believe Mr Jung set up his..." Minhyuk pauses as he mulls over his word choice. "...accommodations before he passed."

You can't help but ask, "Just him? No family, or...?"

Your words trail off, both of you knowing that Mr Jung left you as his sole beneficiary. If he had family, he didn't leave them anything. Not even the location of his remains.

Minhyuk shakes his head, and you frown.

"He prepared for his own death all by himself?"

Your concern is met with a small, understanding smile on Minhyuk's face. "Well, he may have done the paperwork himself, but he wasn't alone. He had you."

"But I--" You hardly knew Mr Jung.

"He brought you up more than once," Minhyuk says, making you close your mouth and blink stupidly at him. At your silence, he continues. "He came to my office a few times to sign the papers and whatnot, and he mentioned you every time. Always said you're the only one who laughs at his jokes."

"They're funny!"

Your own response jars you a bit. The last time you said that, you thought Mr Jung was alive.

Minhyuk only smiles again, softly. "He was happy you thought so."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but I it wasn't hard to tell. Don't get too caught up in the fact that Jung didn't have blood relatives he wanted to include in his will. Evidently--" He gestures to you. "--he had a family of sorts."

Except that you weren't it. You couldn't be, right?

A seedling plants itself in the forefront of your mind.

A seedling named Hoseok.

That's must be it -- Mr Jung wanted to leave his estate to Hoseok, but couldn't figure out how to, legally. Hybrids probably can't even have bank accounts, much less accept inheritance, which is why Mr Jung defaulted to you. He trusted you to help Hoseok start up Heaven's Door as the legal owner of the land it's built on.

In his letter, he'd said it's that it's you, whatever that means.

You look down at the key in your hand, taking a deep breath in. It might not be the key to Heaven's Door Motel, but you clutch it in your fingers, and as you step out of Lee Minhyuk's office, you make a silent promise to Mr Jung.

You'll get Heaven's Door up and running.

And you'll do a damn good job of it too.

=

When you return to your apartment, you have a brown paper bag of fresh pastries in your hand and a heavy something in your chest. You tried to figure out what you want to say to the two hybrids in your place on your way home, but it's hard. You feel like all you keep doing is messing up. Now, you even ran off without a word after seeing the Hybrid Services officers, which had to have freaked Hoseok out.

You grimace as you twist the doorknob. Less than an hour ago, you'd resolved yourself to running Heaven's Door with everything you've got, but are you really the right person for the job?

When you enter, you go to call out for Hoseok, but you freeze with your mouth partially open. The guys stand ramrod straight in front of you, Hoseok with a slight smile and Jimin with a hesitant clench of his jaw, arms crossed. You gape at them for a couple seconds until Hoseok frowns at Jimin and jabs his elbow into his side.

"Ow! What the--"

"Don't you have something to say?" Hoseok prompts through his teeth, a harsh grit to the question.

Jimin huffs, his arms shifting in front of his chest, hands holding his own arms a little tighter. He meets your eyes. "I'm--"

"Wait." You hold up a hand to stop him, not missing the confusion that flashes across Hoseok's face. Something like panic reflects in Jimin's eyes when he sneaks a glance at Hoseok, but you don't acknowledge it. "Let's talk." With the hand still holding the paper bag, you gesture towards the couch. "Have a seat. Both of you."

Jimin doesn't move until Hoseok does, following silently while Hoseok watches you out of the corner of his eye as he sits down.

You set the pastries on the kitchen table before making your way to them, stopping in front of the couch and chewing over your thoughts. Jimin regards you with a half-frown, brows knitted in apparent distrust. You can't really blame him.

If your ears were better, you might've heard the slight gasp Hoseok let out when you dropped to your knees, bent down, and pressed your forehead to your hands, which are now flat on the floor. You bow in front of them, let out a breath, and raise your head once you gather your thoughts, putting your hands respectfully on your lap. "I'm sorry," you say. "I fucked up."

Hoseok's ears twitch, dipping, and he scoots forward on the cushion, about to say something, but you don't let him.

"Jimin, I want to apologize for this morning. I had no right to react the way I did." You look at Jimin, but you can't read his face. "It's not your fault if humans have hurt you enough to make you think we're all the same. People can be... horrible. I wish things were different, but... I want you to know that I will never intentionally hurt you--" Your eyes meet Hoseok's. "--either of you. I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to force or coerce you into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to be the kind of human you're afraid of."

Hoseok shakes his head. "I'm not afraid--"

"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," you say, wincing as you realize you've spoken over him, but when he doesn't speak up again, you continue. "I honestly feel like a walking disaster with how many times I've fucked up, and it's only been a couple days. Sometimes I speak before I think, and I really need to work on that. I'm sorry."

You don't know when you started staring into your lap, but you let out a long breath, and only after that do you slowly look up at the two hybrids. They both wear blank expressions, and it makes you want to shrink back in on yourself. "I just--"

"I lied," Jimin blurts out, and you face him, eyes slightly widening.

"...Lied? About what?"

Sighing, Jimin casts a glance at Hoseok, who nods determinedly. He fidgets with his hands, looking at them rather than meeting your eyes. "I guess, technically, Rayoung isn't looking for me right now," he mumbles. "But she will. As soon as she breaks up with her stupid tool boyfriend."

"Oh." You blink at Jimin. "Well, um... You're welcome to stay with us. Until then, I mean."

Jimin's lips form into a contemplative pout, but he says nothing.

You scratch the back of your neck. Is there a good way to approach this? "We could, um... let her know somehow? That you're with us."

You eye Hoseok, who's hopefully in the same boat for you to be saying we. He wasn't exactly Jimin's biggest fan last night, weird possessiveness over pyjama sets aside. Now, though, you see that even he can tell this Rayoung girl is bad news. Still, Jimin's ties to her seem to run deep, and you know it's nowhere near simple to tell someone a person they love isn't as great as they thought.

Jimin takes a deep breath in, his shoulders scrunching up as his body tenses and relaxes. "Can I... think about it?"

"Of course!" You perk up at the idea of him even considering your offer after the way you snapped this morning, and you point at the brown paper bag on the table. "Do you want to have breakfast while you think?"

While Jimin marks a straight line to the kitchen, Hoseok holds his hand out for you before you even move to get up. You take it, and he uses his other hand to gently grasp your elbow and lift you onto your feet. He doesn't let go right away, instead holding both your hands and whispering, "You shouldn't have gone out alone." He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. "You're still concussed."

The proximity combined with his concern for you causes heat to stir in your chest. It's uncomfortable and foreign, so you try to force it down, smiling and letting out a chuckle that screams casual. You hope. "I can hold my own. Besides, I think I'm all better; right as rain up here." You pull one of your hands out of his tender hold and curl it into a fist, knocking on your cranium like a door. Except, the impact makes your brain swish around in your skull like gargled fluoride. "Whoa-- shit."

You sway, tipping the direction you knocked your own head into. Hoseok keeps you standing, but he doesn't like it. "You just proved my point."

"Listen--"

"From now on, no going off on your own," he says, and from his tone, there's no point in a rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, and, whoa, does the room always spin when you do that? Still, even wooziness can't stopper your sarcasm. "Protective much?"

"Kind of my job description."

"I thought I was your bodyguard," you tease, and he chuckles, his seriousness evaporating with the sound.

"As if--"

"You're dumb."

You and Hoseok both turn towards the kitchen, where Jimin stands next to the table with a half eaten pastry in his mouth. Ignoring the glare he's under from Hoseok, which you don't notice, he speaks around the pastry. "Only a dumb person would go out on their own in your condition."

Even though you're pretty sure he should be on the same side as Jimin on this, Hoseok sneers at him, the slightest of growls rumbling in his throat.

Jimin holds up a hand, mockingly. "Easy, pup."

"I'm older than you, punk!"

You can't help it; you laugh. Jimin is all over the place, accusing you of atrocities one second and talking to you and Hoseok like you're long-time friends the next. The two hybrids cease their bickering at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay, okay." You take a breath to stop the giggles threatening to break past your lips. "New temporary house rule: no one should go off on their own unless they have to."

Jimin raises a brow. "No one?"

"Ideally." You nod. "Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. When the Hybrid Services officers were here before, they were telling everyone there's a feral hybrid in the area. The entire neighbourhood is going to be on alert-- I don't know how kindly they'll take to finding any unregistered or, uh, stray hybrids if they run into either of you alone."

Nodding along, Hoseok rubs his chin with his thumb. "Makes sense."

"They know what the hybrid looks like, but we don't know how much they actually care about the picture. Who knows if they'd just nab any male hybrid off the street," you say. "It's probably best to play it safe; at least while we're still in the neighbourhood."

"What do you mean, 'still in the neighbourhood'?" Jimin asks, curious.

You smack your own forehead and ignore the way Hoseok immediately brings his hands up like you're going to knock yourself over any second now. "Right, uh... We're kind of..." Bringing up a hand, you gesture between yourself and Hoseok. "...prospective business owners? Is that--? No, we're, uh...starting up a motel? But, like, for hybrids?"

Hoseok is decidedly unhelpful with explaining what Heaven's Door is meant to be, staying silent and just making a face as you botch it.

"Anyway, it might be safer if we head out there sooner rather than later if the neighbourhood is getting paranoid over stray hybrids. It's outside of the city, and Hybrid Services doesn't do patrols out there. I was thinking to move once I'd figured more shit out, but I didn't think the whole 'feral hybrid' thing would happen today, and I definitely didn't foresee meeting you." Not that anything that's happened to you in the last few days could've been foreseen, either. You smile at Jimin. "But hey, at least you were a pleasant surprise."

"Didn't I threaten to kill you?."

You shrug. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"And your guard dog attacked me."

"After you attacked her!" Hoseok argues.

Clicking his tongue, Jimin gives his head a nod. "Point taken."

"Anyhow," you continue on. "While you think about what you wanna do, I'd like you to come with us. Of course, you're free to refuse. I still have two-ish weeks of rent paid for this place, so you could stay here, but..." You share a look with Hoseok, then return your eyes to Jimin.

"...I'd be alone?" he finishes for you.

"I guess I'd just feel better if you're with us."

Jimin seems to absorb your words, but he stays silent for a few seconds. He tosses the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing quietly and brushing his hands together to get rid of the leftover crumbs. He takes a breath. "I guess I sort of owe you for the food and the bed I slept in last night... The least I can do is make you feel better."

Your cheeks make way for a beaming smile.

"Just while I think about it."

You school yourself. "Right! Right," you say, clearing your throat of any enthusiasm that might've gotten clogged in there. "Just while you're thinking about it. Nothing's set in stone."

=

Either Hoseok calls shotgun outside of your hearing range, or Jimin silently sits in the backseat of your car out of some unfounded sense of regularity. He doesn't speak a word as you drive, just watches the world pass by through the side window. You can't really see him in the rear view mirror, and most of your focus is on the road, but there are a few moments where you catch his fingers scratching at his arms before he flexes his hands and stops. You're reminded of the red, bumpy skin you saw on his arms. Now, it's covered by his shirt and jacket, both of which you convinced him to let you wash before you all left your apartment.

"I don't think this is the right way..." Hoseok says, squinting at the street signs as you drive out of the inner city.

"Yeah, uh." You'd looked up the address to Silver Meadows before you left, and it's practically on the other side of the city as Heaven's Door. "There's somewhere I wanted to go first. You know how I left this morning?"

Hoseok nods.

"Well, it wasn't just to throw a tantrum, if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought maybe you were trying to get those Hybrid Services officers to think you were going somewhere, so they'd think no one was in your apartment," Hoseok says, making your eyebrows rise on your forehead.

"Wow, you're pretty intuitive, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the backseat, but you can't see Jimin's face since he's sitting right behind you. "Were you guys able to hear that whole conversation in the hallway?"

Jimin scoffs, something sarcastic in the simple sound, while Hoseok nods again. "It's weird how even they don't know the species of the feral hybrid," he says. "Without that information, they'd go after any stray hybrid they encounter -- not that they weren't doing that already."

"But they might treat any stray like they're feral and dangerous," you finish the thought process for him, and when you meet his eyes, he sports a grim expression. You roll your shoulders back, sighing. "It's a good enough reason to stay on our toes, but hopefully we won't run into any trouble outside of my neighbourhood..."

And, hopefully, the feral hybrid doesn't get found by anyone less than civil. The cheerful face of that hybrid flashes across your mind, and you wonder about his circumstances. What makes a hybrid go feral, anyway? What made him run away from the hybrid clinic? How much of the information the officers gave you is a stretching of the truth?

"So where did you go?" Hoseok asks when you make another unfamiliar turn.

"Lee Minhyuk texted me -- he was Mr Jung's estate lawyer." You add that in to give Jimin some context, but you're not sure if he's even listening. "He forgot to give me the key for Mr Jung's niche."

Hoseok's brows furrow as he echoes you. "Niche?"

"It's what they call the individual sections in a columbarium," you explain, not too informed yourself, but you know enough. You take Hoseok's silence as him not filling the gaps quite yet. "Mr Jung's urn is being kept in one. Lot C, niche 258, at Silver Meadows Columbarium."

"Oh." Hoseok doesn't exactly slump in his seat, but you see the way his shoulders sag just the slightest. "He was cremated?"

You nod, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I hadn't thought about it much. I'd assumed his family was dealing with all the..." Breathing out a long exhale through your nose, you try to think of the right words. (And come up with nothing.) "...well, that kind of stuff. But apparently I'm the only one with the key."

"Mr Jung never talked about any family..." Hoseok mumbles.

A road sign ahead reads Silver Meadows, and you slow down to turn into the lot.

"You're not bringing flowers?"

You turn your head at Jimin's sudden question, surprised since he was quiet the whole drive. He meets your eyes.

"You're visiting a grave, and you didn't bring flowers?" he asks, arms crossed.

"Oh." You look downward. "I hadn't thought about that..."

Jimin doesn't say anything, and you've run out of words yourself. Does it make sense to go back to buy some? You think about Mr Jung, and far above wanting to go get flowers for him now, you wish you could've brought him one back then. When he could see it.

You find a parking spot and switch off the engine.

"It's okay," Hoseok says before any of you exit the car. He's not looking at you, though. "We can bring flowers next time."

You watch him step out of the car, and as he does, he pulls his collar out of his pocket and fastens it around his neck, clasping the metal ends together before he shuts the car door behind him. Before you'd left the apartment, you told him to bring it, but you forgot about it during the drive.

"Oh, right. Jimin." You twist in your seat and reach into your bag, finding the red velvet choker you'd stuffed in there earlier. You've never really worn it since someone gave it to you however long ago, and you just hastily grabbed it from your room before you all left the apartment. You hold it out for him. "Wear this for now. It's not technically a collar, but... no one will be looking too closely. I hope."

Jimin frowns, but he takes the choker. "Can't I just stay in the car?"

You don't want to pressure him, but you can't help the grimace that crosses your face. "I feel safer together..."

"Fine," he huffs, bringing his hands up to fasten the choker. "You're lucky this is cute."

By the time you both catch up to Hoseok, he's already found the directions to lot C. He walks silently, and when he finds niche 258, you and Jimin hang a bit back, giving him a moment.

This section of the columbarium is indoors, and the walls and niches seem to be white marble, or made to look like white marble. Whichever it is, it feels a bit... cold.

Mr Jung's niche is empty, save for the black urn inside. Jimin was probably right -- some flowers would at least bring some life to the space.

Hoseok stands in front of the niche, which is embedded in the wall at around the height of his chest. His arms hang limp at his sides. You step up beside him, and you take his hand, gently, bringing it up so you can push the key into his palm.

"I think he meant to give this to you." And everything else, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. That's a lot to put on someone all at once.

You would know.

Hoseok holds his hand in front of him, staring at the key. He looks up at you and meets your eyes with his watery ones. "You think so?"

"Of course I do." You put a hand on Hoseok's shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his coat. "You said Mr Jung never talked about any family, right? That's because you were his family."

Sniffling, Hoseok bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he breaks eye contact and returns to looking at Mr Jung's niche. "I... I wish he wasn't this far away. He made it so much harder to visit."

"Hey..." Gently, you use your hand on his shoulder to turn Hoseok toward you, then put both your hands on his arms and give him a reassuring squeeze. A tear threatens to roll down his cheek, but you reach up at thumb it away. "I know you probably knew Mr Jung better than I did, but... something in me thinks he'd want to say..." You turn your head to look at the niche, smile, and shake your head. "He's not in there." Bringing a hand up, you softly poke the pad of your pointer finger between Hoseok's eyebrows. "He's in here." You move to his chest and poke at where his heart should be. "And here." Finally, you take both his hands, a bit awkward with the one still holding the key, and hold them between you. "And that's what matters, right?"

Hoseok nods, but his face crumples up, and he tucks it into your neck. You wrap your arms around him just as his embrace you tight. Over his shoulder, you glance at Jimin, who quickly looks away, but you know he was watching. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, suddenly very interested in his worn out shoes.

"But we can still visit, right?" Hoseok mumbles into your skin, bringing your attention back to him.

"Of course. And next time, we'll bring flowers."

=

As you slide into one of the parking spots in front of Heaven's Door, it occurs to you that this is the first time you're seeing it in the daylight. All of its mediocre glory. The outer walls are a faded yellow, with supporting pillars and railings on the second floor landing which were once white. The doors to the individual rooms are a nice dark green that matches the roofing, but you have to admit they've seen better days. Still, you can feel the potential the old building blooms in your chest.

"Not too bad, hey?" you say to Jimin, who's leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats to peer out the windshield at the place.

He sniffs. "It's no Plaza Hotel."

"You've been?"

"No, I've seen Home Alone 2."

Chuckling, you pull your car key out of the ignition and exit the car. You put your hands on your hips, inhaling a big, exaggerated breath as you take in the motel. Hoseok walks over and stands next to you, arms crossed.

"Well," you say. "It might be a bit of a fixer-upper, but that's nothing a couple of fixer-uppers like us can't handle, right?" You bump your shoulder into Hoseok, who smiles at you and bumps back with his hip. You stumble a bit, but Jimin's hand on your back stops you from swaying too hard. When you take your eyes off your feet, he meets your eyes with a plain expression.

"You guys are disgustingly optimistic."

A hand on his shoulder, you grin. "You just named one of my best traits!"

=

The move into Heaven's Door is by no means smooth, but you can't say it's not something you expected.

The first thing you notice is the broken window in the convenience store under the motel lobby, which you'd missed that first night in the dark. Hoseok sheepishly admits that he'd had to break in to eat the snack food inside. You don't push it -- that void of time between losing Mr Jung and meeting you isn't a topic you think is worth diving into if it's going to bring Hoseok back to that time. The window won't be cheap, but if you don't put a custom decal on it like the shattered one on the ground, it might not be as expensive.

Secondly, Hoseok leads you and Jimin to the master room you remember Mr Jung mentioning in his letter, and you realize you'd only seen the motel from one side. Behind the lobby, which has a lot of that same forest green as the doors outside, Hoseok shows you the half of the building you had no idea about before. An entire branch extends behind the lobby, about the same length as the front, but instead of the entrances to each room facing outside like the ones you saw before, there are doors mirroring each other on both sides of a hallway. Immediately to the right is the master room, but at the end of the hallway seems to be a common area with couches and coffee tables, and two walls lined with a counter and cabinets. Hoseok tells you it's the same downstairs, except the end of the hall is a kitchen and dining area. It reminds you of a college dorm.

If anyone stayed in the rooms you saw out front, you don't think they'd even notice this half of the building.

The master room is smaller than your apartment, but it has its own half-kitchen and en suite bathroom with a pretty nice shower. Hoseok explains to you that most of Mr Jung's time and focus went into building and upgrading the interior of Heaven's Door, which is why it has its less than shiny exterior.

You can tell Hoseok was staying in the master room up until you... kidnapped(?) him.

"This is probably the nicest room in the motel, huh?" Jimin posits, walking inside with his hands in his pants pockets. He's wearing the clothes he met you in, now washed but no less worn down.

You nod. "Probably. We're a bit far from the city, so it would make sense for the owner to just live here."

"Dibs." Jimin flops down face first into the bed.

Hoseok crosses his arms. "Yah."

As you fail to hide your laughter behind your hand, Jimin squirms in the bed, twisting himself so he lies on his back. He stretches his arms and legs out like a sea star. "Smells too much like dog here, though."

While Hoseok sneers, you say, "Probably because this is Hoseok's room. You and I can take the rooms next door and across the hall."

"Why would I wanna be next door to you?" Jimin closes his eyes and interlocks is fingers behind his head, fully relaxing into the bed.

You let out an affronted scoff. Your hand goes up to your chest, right over your heart even though Jimin can't see it. "Um, my amazing company and charming personality?"

"Pass."

As you and Jimin go through this back-and-forth, you miss the way Hoseok's face fell when you said you'd be in a different room. His disheartened expression goes unnoticed, and when you stand up, proclaiming there's a lot of work to be done, he smiles at you with all the sunshine he can muster.

You're none the wiser.

=

Aside from the horrors (the mere idea of business management, the building maintenance, the absolute atrocity that is dealing with plumbing, the phone calls, etc, etc,) at least it's fun to print keys. Hoseok apparently never figured the system out because Mr Jung took care of getting it installed, but half an hour on the computer, and you manage to print a key for both yourself and Jimin. He chooses the room across from the master, while you're right next to it.

Hoseok insists on him and Jimin carrying all the food you'd brought inside, but to appease your need to take part, he lets you carry one item for each trip from your car to the common kitchen area. (You find this a little patronizing, but it is admittedly nice to be doted on by them both, even if Jimin's still pretending he doesn't care.)

((He takes a bag you were reaching for, despite already having both his hands full.))

Much of your things are still back at your apartment, but you have time to bring them over. The first day is mostly about getting Hoseok and Jimin out of dodge -- you can worry about your own problems later. You spend the afternoon sitting in the lobby, poring over the paperwork left there and googling motel business 4 dummies like your life depends on it. Hoseok, who'd been cleaning up his room and taking care of the broken glass outside (and inside, unfortunately) the convenience store, forces you to take a break in the form of helping him make dinner.

During dinner, unprompted, Jimin tells you he's still thinking.

It hasn't slipped by you, of course, that Jimin's stay with you is conditional and, lest you hope otherwise, temporary.

But when he says that, staring into his food rather than looking at you, a tiny smile makes it's way onto your face,

"Take all the time you need."

=

On the third night, you wake up to soft knocks on your door. You have no expectations because your brain is in the process of trying to dissect the dream you'd just been ripped out of, but seeing Hoseok on the other side of your door still isn't something you were prepared for. He's wearing the new, new pyjamas you'd bought for him in a sparse shopping trip you'd all gone on the second day, despite him saying he didn't care that much about Jimin wearing the other ones.

You go to say his name, but he just brings a finger up to his lips in a silent shush, and with his other hand, he gently takes your hand and leads you down the hall into the master room.

Nothing in your body wants to fight it, so you let him bring you right up to the bed. He practically pushes you onto it, but the way he pulls the warm comforter over you defies any ill intent. When he settles in on the other side of the bed, his breath puffs against your cheek. He hasn't really scented you since the day you met Jimin; you've been near each other almost constantly since, so there was really no reason to.

You remember him telling you it's about separation, but also not. He never did tell you more about it.

In your sleep-ridden haze, you shift to your side. Hoseok is on his side too, rather close, and his eyes are closed, but you know he can't have fallen asleep so fast. Gently, you bring a hand to the back of his head, careful, as always, not to touch his dingo ears. You pull him closer ever so slowly. If he resists at all, you'll let go.

Hoseok lets out a shaking breath. He wraps both arms around you and tugs you closer, his face pressing itself against your neck. Eyes still closed, he squeezes you close. It's warm.

That's right, you think.

He’s a strong little pup, but he hates being alone.

How did you manage to forget that?

=

If Jimin has anything to say about the fact that you've started to retire to the master room at the end of the day, he doesn't vocalize it. Hoseok never brings it up, either. He's hardly touchy during the daytime, keeping his hands to himself, especially in front of Jimin. Yet, when night comes, he pulls you to bed like he's done it his entire life and keeps his arms around you until you fall asleep and wake up to find him all tangled up in the sheets.

Jimin either hasn't noticed, or, as you suspect, he doesn't care.

He'll often say he's "still thinking about it". You're not quite sure how to respond to it every time, so now you just smile and nod, sometimes reminding him that the choice is still his.

One night, you find him in the common area, sitting on a couch and watching a muted cartoon on the tv you'd connected to your Netflix account the day before. The subtitles aren't even on, and when he turns at the sound of your footsteps, you see the red of his eyes, and the shining tracks on his cheeks.

There's still a lot you don't know about Jimin.

Rayoung. Her boyfriend. His red contacts and why he wore them.

"It's freezing in here," is all he says as he wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. "You should get the heating system checked."

You sit down next to him, neither of you looking at each other. "Feels normal to me."

The cartoon isn't one you recognize, but it looks like it could be fun if you knew what anyone was saying.

For a while, you and Jimin say nothing. He sits next to you, and you next to him. At some point, he shifts just the slightest bit closer so your shoulders brush against each other. That's as far as he goes for your body heat.

"Do you get cold easily?" you eventually whisper.

"Mhmm."

"Is that a snake thing?"

Jimin shakes his head, slowly, the late hour finally getting to him. "Some reptile hybrids are like that, some aren't. There aren't many of us, so people don't really know why. At least... that's what he told me."

He. You decide not to dig into that. Jimin will tell you if he wants to.

"Your scales... the skin around them seemed irritated."

"...Itchy..." Jimin's head falls to your shoulder. He doesn't snuggle in, but he rests there. "I had a cream for it..."

"We should buy some," you say.

"It's expensive... You shouldn't buy it if I'm going to leave soon..."

Though his words cause a muted ache in your heart, you don't stew on it. That was always the case.

"You can take it with you."

Jimin doesn't respond, asleep on your shoulder.

You're not sure how much time passes, but later, you hear light, shuffling footsteps behind you, and you turn your head towards the sound, careful not to jostle the slumbering Jimin on your shoulder. Hoseok stands there, eyes half closed but on you nonetheless.

"You left," he mumbles, swaying slightly like he's struggling to stay both awake and upright.

You give him a small smile, lit only by the tv that's still playing that cartoon you don't know the name of. "I didn't go very far."

"Come back to bed?"

Gently, you lift a hand and gesture at Jimin. "Can we bring him back to his, first?"

=

When you're sent the invoice for the window repair, you realize (not for the first time) this won't be easy.

You didn't think it'd be a walk in the park, of course not, but you've never really had to worry about the cost of running a business before. Now, you look at the numbers, and you just can't wrap your head around how it'll all work. Mr Jung left you a considerable amount, yes, but... will it be enough? You can't imagine the motel is in any high level of traffic area for travellers. There are quite a few campsites around in the surrounding forest, but that's about it. How many customers would it take monthly to support the motel? How much has to or even can be sacrificed before any income is made?

You've already spent so much on keeping you, Hoseok, and Jimin alive and warm for the past week. It's normal, you suppose, but you've never supported two dependants before, and the fact that you're currently unemployed doesn't settle the heavy feeling in your chest at all. You're draining your savings while not making any money in the meantime.

A safe haven for hybrids...

...who can't pay rent.

Maybe Mr Jung was older and more senile than you thought.

You shake your head and rub your hands over your face, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. First, you gotta apologize to Mr Jung for disrespecting the dead. You might be cynical, but he had a dream. A really good and nice dream. Secondly, you scold yourself for thinking what you did about hybrids. Of course they can't pay rent. They were born into a system that actively discourages their financial (and pretty much every other kind of) autonomy. They can't pay for anything because of humans.

Still, you don't know how long you can keep running Heaven's Door on your inheritance alone. You haven't even opened yet -- how much will it cost to run for a month? Three? A year?

"Do the numbers change if you sigh hard enough?"

You turn in your swivel chair to glare at Jimin, who's sitting in the chair next to you with one leg folded up to his chest, foot propped up on the seat. He doesn't return your gaze, enraptured by the match-three game he's playing on your phone, which he's been going at rather consistently for the past two days. You don't really have a job for him right now, and aside from the tv, he doesn't have much to take up his time. You'd offered to grab the contents of your bookshelf back at home for him, but he'd casually refused, telling you he'd take a look next time you make the trip, but not to go out of your way.

"Maybe they will," you taunt back, which goes just as ignored as your glare. "I better sigh harder to test it out."

You tilt your head, looking at your phone in his hand. "Should I get you guys phones...?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Jimin's eyes glance up, and he finally acknowledges you. He doesn't need to say it. He does anyway.

"I'm still thinking."

Curling your lips in, you nod, turning back to the computer and hovering your hands over the mouse and keyboard even though you have no plans on what to do with them. "Right. Right..."

Thankfully, Hoseok chooses that awkward moment to walk into the lobby. "You should take a break," he says. "How is your head feeling?"

"It's fine, doc." You roll your eyes, smiling. "Just as fine as I said it was yesterday."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

You shake your head. "The doctor said they're for headaches. They're just painkillers -- the few times my head has hurt, the pain went away by the time I remembered I could take them."

Jimin lowers your phone and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. It's not positive; you know that at least. "You're still getting headaches?"

"Only itty-bitty ones," you try to placate them.

"How long has it been since you fell?"

You almost forgot you lied to Jimin about how you got your concussion. By the looks of Hoseok's guilty expression, though, you're not sure if you regret it. You don't want him to feel responsible, but talking about it -- whether or not Jimin knows -- still seems to remind him of what he did. Where you put the blame doesn't matter to him. He still thinks it's his fault.

"Uhh... a little over a week?" you answer, keeping a careful eye on Hoseok. "Maybe eight or nine days."

Jimin frowns. "That can't be good, right?"

"The doctor said to go back to the hospital if the symptoms last over two weeks." Concern laced in his features, Hoseok crosses his arms.

You nod along. "I'll put the date on my calendar, okay? I'm sure I'll be fine by then."

"You better not play it down when the time comes," Hoseok warns.

"Yes sir," you joke.

Hoseok takes in a sharp breath, shoulders scrunching up for half a second before he forces them to relax. A small huff of a laugh escapes Jimin's nose, and you look at him in confusion, but his eyes are on Hoseok, something playful and teasing in them. Jimin mouths something to Hoseok, which you can't read.

Hoseok grumbles and tightens the arms crossed in front of him. "Shut up."

"No fair," you whine. "You guys already have inside jokes?"

Jimin just laughs harder while Hoseok gives him a death glare and says, "It doesn't count as an inside joke if I don't find it funny."

"Don't worry," Jimin teases through a smirk. "I find it funny enough for the both of us!"

You can't help but smile at the ever-growing amity between the two hybrids, which is admittedly playful in the biting way, but it still makes you happy that they're somewhat getting along.

=

"We should celebrate," you tell the boys one day.

"Celebrate what?" Jimin questions, hands stuffed in his coat pocket and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You'd gone around the back of the motel and found a paved, patio-like area, complete with five wooden picnic tables, propane patio heaters, and an old-looking but (probably) functional barbecue, but Jimin isn't exactly a fan of the cool breeze flowing through the air.

You lift the lid of the barbecue, examining the charred grates of the grill. "Well, I dunno, but it'd be a shame not to use this before it gets too cold out."

"Too late," Jimin mumbles. His lips are hidden behind the front of his coat, which he's ducked half his face into.

Hoseok ignores Jimin, nodding at your idea. "A barbecue night would be nice."

"How are you on the grill?" you ask him.

"I'm better at prepping."

You chuckle. "So basically, not good?"

"Not good," he echoes with a smile.

After sharing some giggles, you look at the barbecue again. "I'm sure I could figure this out."

"I'm going back inside," Jimin tells you both, already walking away.

"C'mon!" you call after him. "It'll be fun!"

=

Although you're in a different store now, near the edge of the city closer to the motel, the pet/hybrid aisle hosts a pretty similar collection to the store near your apartment. You pull another plain, black collar off the hook on the shelf, which matches the one currently sitting around Hoseok's neck.

He's not paying attention at all, as far as you know, instead hunched over the pushbar of the shopping cart he insisted on pushing for you, poring over the grocery list you'd written on a memo pad for tonight's "celebration".

In your mind, you've started calling it your "new friends party :D", emoticon included, but you haven't worded that out loud to either of the boys. Hoseok would surely laugh at the childishness of the name, even if he'd politely try to stifle it, and you know Jimin would only remind you that his relationship to you and Hoseok is temporary.

Mood killer, you think to Jimin, although it's the hypothetical version of him.

The real Jimin is looking at the array of collars on the shelf like you asked him to, and you step up next to him.

"What do you think?"

Jimin frowns, deep in thought. "They're all ugly."

Okay, maybe not that deep.

"Ouch," you chuckle, fingers toying with the black silk in your hand. "You don't have to wear one all the time -- just while we're in public spaces like this."

Grumbling, Jimin stuffs both his hands in his coat pockets. "In public... that's when I wanna look good."

"Okay, okay." You pat a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we can find one you like online, or something."

"Doesn't this one work?" Jimin points at his neck, fingers ghosting over the soft velvet of your red choker.

You tilt your head. "I guess... Probably."

The tags for collars have to be bought and customized separately anyway. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to put Jimin's on your choker, though attaching the tag might not be as simple as the store-bought collars. Manageable, though, you're sure.

"If you're done being picky, we should get going. The frozen meat will be rotten by the time we get to the car," Hoseok says, making Jimin roll his eyes and stick his tongue out at him.

You clap your hands together. "Ooh! We should get ice cream!"

When you bring all the groceries to the counter, you notice that Jimin keeps his head down, avoiding the eyes of the person ringing everything up. This isn't new -- Jimin seems to not like making eye contact with anyone but you or Hoseok.

He'd tossed the red contacts after one of them had an intimate meet and greet with your bedroom floor, but you can tell he doesn't like being without them. It's awful, you think, how long he wore those fake red eyes just because his owner... what, enjoyed the idea of owning a deadly hybrid?

The... exoticism?

You shiver.

On the cusp of winter time, with Jimin in a couple layers, you wouldn't even know he's a hybrid if you weren't paying attention. As far as you know, his only hybrid-defining trait is his scales, and the only ones you can see right now are on his neck. They'd easily go unnoticed to the everyday passerby.

"Your total is--"

The cashier's voice startles you, and all you can do is shake your head when they ask if you have their points reward card.

Before heading back to the motel, you make a quick stop at your apartment, telling the boys that you're just grabbing some more of your clothes and that they can wait in the car. You do grab some clothes, but you also pick up a few of your favourite books. Hopefully the boys will be able to find some entertainment in them. Recently, you discovered a recreation room in the motel, complete with a couple of exercise machines and a pool table. With how preoccupied you are with all this motel business stuff, though, you haven't had the time to play a round of pool or even think about exercising. Maybe the boys have been in there, but it seems like Hoseok is almost always somewhere around you, still weary of your condition.

It's sort of fair, you think. Dizzy spells still hit you sometimes.

Jimin, too, often sticks around somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because he likes scrolling through your phone and doesn't want to just take it and leave whatever room you're in.

Which brings you to the real reason you stopped by your apartment. You walk up to the mailboxes and pull out your key, smiling when you open your locker and find the packages you were expecting.

It's a bit of a pricey expense -- at least, for how you used to budget your life before it flipped on its head -- but you think it's worth the money. A simple phone for each of the boys, a new family plan to save on the phone bills, and a specialty reptilian hybrid eczema cream. You hope it's the right one for Jimin. You haven't seen his irritated skin since that shower due to the chilly weather, but you still catch him scratching his arms over his clothes from time to time.

You're sure if you told Jimin you wanted to buy the cream for him, he would've refused. The phone, too.

"Took you long enough," Jimin says when you dip back into the driver's seat of your car.

You chuckle. "I missed you too, Mochi."

He huffs at the nickname and crosses his arms, then turns his head to stare out the window. You don't see his faint smile.

=

"It's freezing," Jimin complains through chattering teeth, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders scrunched up practically to his ears.

You can't hold back a little laugh. "I told you, you could either help me out here with the grill, help Hoseok with prepping everything inside, or run the raw food from the kitchen to out here." Raising an eyebrow at him, you gesture towards your gloved hands and the food you're flipping on the grill with metal tongs. It is chilly out, especially since the sun set, but you're wrapped up in your own jacket, and the fire from the grill is keeping your cheeks warm. It probably feels colder to Jimin, though. "You wanna trade with me?"

He gives you a flat look. "You're kidding."

"Thought so. You wanna trade with Hoseok?"

Cringing, Jimin shakes his head. "I hate touching raw meat."

"Well, there's our answer then," you say. "Was that the last of it?"

He nods, another shiver rippling through him. It's almost endearing how red his cheeks are turning, but you know he really can't stand the cold.

"Okay, go inside and warm up. I should be done cooking everything in ten or fifteen minutes. Bring this plate in--" You point at a foil-wrapped plate of the food you've already cooked. "I can bring the rest inside once I'm finished."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly. "I thought you wanted to eat out here?" He looks at one of the picnic tables.

"Nah." You shrug. "It's way too cold for me, and the food will cool down too fast."

Elated by this news, Jimin smiles and bounces on his feet when he grabs the plate and runs it inside.

"And help Hoseok clean up the kitchen!" you yell out right before the door shuts behind him.

Truthfully, you did want to eat outside for the celebration, but it's more important to you that Jimin is comfortable and happy. After all, he's one of your new friends, and that's the whole point of tonight. You smile at the thought, excited to gift the boys their new cell phones after dinner.

Flipping some of the last pieces of meat on the grill, you hum to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand reach for the plate you have set to the side for the cooked food. It tentatively grabs one of the slices of meat and pulls it off the plate, which you let out a chuckle at.

"What, you couldn't wait a couple more minute--"

You choke to a stop, though, when you look up and see neither Hoseok nor Jimin.

Dark eyes meet yours for less than a moment before swiftly turning downward. The man stumbles back a step, but he freezes in almost the same way you do. Except, instead of his jaw dropping open like yours does, he pauses mid-chew, the frisked meat still in between his teeth.

That's not what makes your breath hitch, though.

Even under the blackened sky, you can see the bruises.

A dark, deep purple sits boldly under is left eye, the surrounding skin a sickening blend of yellow and green that winds up all the way to his brow. His chin sports another bruise in a similar state, like the blows had been a couple days ago and the skin has gone through only the first stages of healing. Although his face is grimy with sweat and dirt, you can see crusted blood just at his hairline before his black hair hides anything else. You can tell his lip was completely busted at some point, marred with dark, dried blood that's been split over and over again and given no chance to heal.

Even his stance looks like he's in pain. Like he's trying to make himself look smaller.

You swallow the shock down, the words not coming out. "I..."

He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice. Both of his hands shoot up, palms flat and facing you. "Sorry-- I'm sorry," he mumbles and winces, like it hurts to speak. His voice is scratchy and rasping.

He backs up further while you try to find something to say, something to do, but before you can do anything, he runs off the patio and disappears into the treeline, a clear limp in his movement.

"Wait!" you call out, but he's gone.

Maybe it was the injuries that made you want to go after him. Maybe it was the way he held himself, like he didn't want to be in his own body. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled, or the fact that he definitely wasn't wearing enough for the temperature outside.

Maybe it was all that combined, but most of all, it was the pointed black ears you saw on top of his head.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

[llondonfog]

twst (horror) tober — day 1 (listen)

and we're back for round 2!! to keep my sanity this year, i'm going to do my best to keep prompts to ~500 words. if some go longer, then more delight for us all, but this is to keep my expectations manageable and who knows? perhaps i might come back to some of these prompts the way that i still am so very fond of 2022's twstober drabbles :) anyways, i do hope you enjoy the first day's piece! (fun fact: this is a snippet from a fic idea i have buried away....) and of course, these will eventually go up on ao3 when i have the time<3

➤ Day 1: Listen | "Listen to me!"

Sebek is haunted.

Not in the way that his family and friends and neighbors who pass him by on the street and cast him pitying, sorrowful glances think— but oh, how he wishes that he was.

He hears their whispers and murmured commiseration, the hushed voices that speak of a lonely boy lost to the clutches of the unforgiving woods. They shake their heads weighed with grief like the cattails by the river, unable to imagine the gruesome sight that one of their own had stumbled upon— ah, but it was the nature of the world they bargained to live in. A true shame, a tragic reminder, that the youngest Zigvolt was fated to learn such realities from the death of his dearest friend.

Sebek does not correct them.

It is better to let them believe that his drained expression was on account of having found Silver's body mauled in the woods by the animals they are familiar with, rather than the true ones that lurk deep within those ancient glades. It is better to let them cling to their ignorance, to think that the madness of paranoia scratching at his spine is only too understandable by having to discover one's best friend at the scene of his death and the ensuring nightmares that would follow— not that he doesn't have nightmares, that is to say, only that the contents contain horrific figures very much among the living.

Either way, his family knows no better when they find him tangled within his bedsheets, trembling and choking on Silver's name.

No, Sebek is haunted by a presence far too real than the ghost of memory, and his unnerved fingers twitch in the curtains of his bedroom window as his sleep-deprived gaze blinks out to the forest's edge where he can see them.

Three figures where there had once been only two, weaving in and out of the tree line like fish in the stream beneath the call of the moonlight. If he squints, he can make out the lethal curl of dark ivory spouting from the top of one of the figures, and the way that the smaller of the trio does not touch the ground as it tugs their newest member along in a macabre vision of a dance that Sebek cannot pull his gaze away from no matter how hard he tries. There is no mistaking the gleam of familiar silver hair in the beguiling welcome of the night— and even from a mile away, Sebek can all too clearly hear the words that smiling, laughing mouth is speaking, as if Silver himself stood directly behind him in the stillness of his bedroom.

(He wonders if he turns to look, if the boy will surely be there as Sebek remembers him last; blood-stained and smiling so sweetly even in death as Sebek had found him, reaching in the dirt as if to take the hand of one who had led him to his doom.)

"Malleus begs of you to join us, he misses you terribly," Silver's voice all but sings against his strained thoughts, tremors anew bursting down his spine like shrapnel. "Please, Sebek— don't you remember the promises we made? Father came back for me, just as he said he would."

That thing is NOT your father, Sebek wishes to shout and scream in spite of how it would wake his entire family to the horrors lurking outside, the entities cursed to wander the woods and tempt those desperate enough to find solace in their gleaming smiles. But Silver is right, as he often is; Sebek does remember— he remembers a childhood of playing in the woods with Silver, an orphan his family had come to foster and adore. He remembers two imaginary friends who could breathe fire and fly, who could coax butterflies to dance along the breeze and flowers to bloom into the prettiest of crowns. He remembers how much Silver would cling to the affections of a figure with burning crimson eyes, and how much he would the same for a being that smiled down at him with crinkled emeralds older than time itself.

As he had grown older, such strange fantasies had become just that: the result of lonely and imaginative children left to their own devices, spinning stories in the fertile soil of an enchanting landscape. Sebek did not question the time Silver continued to spend within the shadowed trees, for the other boy always did have a unique aptitude for the local wildlife, nor did he find himself with time to spare to wonder about the dreamy smile Silver would often return with, or the odd snatches of unfamiliar songs he'd hear the boy humming tunelessly to himself.

In hindsight, he'd have grabbed a torch and burnt the whole fucking forest down.

Sebek's fingers force themselves to move with a herculean effort that he did not know himself to possess, yanking the curtains shut and blocking out the terrifying sight as Silver's voice rises and fades like radio static, a nauseating sickness pitching forward in his stomach.

"We're supposed to be a family now, Sebek, aren't you listening? Can you not hear them call for you too? I won't let them leave here without you, I promise we'll stay and wait—"

They'd already waited forty-five days. Sebek rocks forward on his heels, squeezing his eyes shut and swallows a hoarse, empty sob.

How many more remained until he found himself walking out to join them?

[celestial-grls]

Full Moon Salon / Robin Buckley x fem!reader

summary: You decide to give yourself bangs in the middle of the night. Robin comes to the rescue. Fluffy blurb because I believe everyone should give themselves bangs at least once and have someone you love fix them for you. word count: 1k a/n: it’s been foreverrrr since I posted anything but I hope you all like this ok mwah mwah until next time

It’s nothing short of a miracle when Robin can fall asleep soundly and stay asleep for a long time. It’s gotten better since you two have been together. Now, she has someone to listen to her little musings and a breathing pattern more soothing than her own to fall asleep to. You make it a point to climb into bed first so that she’ll actually want to come in, otherwise she’d try to move things around in your bedroom or find a task to do that would keep her from sleeping. 

So when Robin stirs from her sleep and blindly reaches for you in bed and doesn’t find you there, she thinks you must’ve gotten up for a glass of water. She faintly hears a snipping sound, followed by the light coming from the bathroom and affronting her bleary eyes. 

The bathroom door is left a few inches ajar, and she watches you for a few moments while her sleepy state catches up to what’s happening. Even with her eyes barely open, she can spot that furrow you get in between your eyebrows when you concentrate. 

“Baby?” Robin rasps, gently opening the door a little wider. 

You startle, not expecting her to be awake let alone watching you give yourself bangs. She could not look any more endearing, standing in her socks with sandy hair in a million cowlicks. “Oh my god! Sorry, you scared me Rob,” your tone is affected with concern, upset that you woke her up. 

Robin leans against the doorframe, rubbing at her eye and trying to disguise a yawn. “You’re cutting your hair,” she says it like she’s finally found the answer to a crossword. 

“Just some bangs. Or, I was just cutting my hair. You can go back to bed, baby. I’ll be there in two seconds, I just need to get the sides even,” You maneuver the scissors so that they’re on an angle and cautiously snip, watching the strands collect on the towel you laid down over the bathroom sink. 

Robin shuffles to stand directly in front of you, and she reaches out to rub your arm like she always does. She looks at you, still tired but the corners of her mouth are turning up into a smile and asks, “Do you…want help?” 

“Rob—”, you start but she gently cuts you off. 

“You don’t remember that my mom has cut my hair for like a million years? I’ve learned a thing or two from watching her do it,” Robin runs her fingers through the pieces of hair resting against your forehead now, tilting her head to see what your new haircut might need. 

You look at her and fondly sigh, “Your mom does do a good job. Are you sure you don’t wanna go to bed, though?” 

Robin shakes her head, “We’ll be back in bed and sleeping faster if you let me help,” 

You don’t need anymore convincing. With a little nod, you hand the scissors to Robin and allow her to take over. It should be foreign and strange to trust her so easily, but right now you don’t think about that at all. You’re just thinking about Robin’s slight pout of concentration, the soft sounds of her snipping, and the light brush of her fingertips playing with the strands until they lay right. 

You start smiling and try to hide a laugh that escapes. Robin stops snipping for a second and jokingly warns, “Very unprofessional customer in my salon today. If you laugh too hard, I might have to botch this bang job.” 

“No, baby, I promise I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because your mom only likes to cut your hair during a full moon and there’s definitely a full moon tonight.” you explain to her, remembering that little fact you’ve collected about Robin. 

“Oh, well thank god. Otherwise we’d have to really think of an explanation for your sudden urge for a haircut,” she chides. You give her a quick eyeroll and close them again so she can resume the snipping. 

It’s quiet for a few moments while she takes the scissors at an upward angle to feather the bottoms to look wispy rather than blunt. It turns out she has learned a thing or two from a lifetime of full moon haircuts given to her by her mom in the living room. At least enough to give you nicer bangs than the slightly choppier version that you has given yourself prior to Robin intervening. 

She shakes out the sides by your ears to make sure all of it blends together before saying, “You’ve been officially banged by one Robin Buckley,” 

You laugh at her, “It’s gonna be like a good week or two of those jokes before you give up, huh?” 

“That’s a promise, baby” Robin steps back so you can take a real look at yourself in the mirror. The results are almost infuriatingly better than you could’ve hoped for. You take a second to run your fingers over your bangs, adjusting to the look of them on your face before beaming at Robin and throwing your arms around her. 

“I hate you. Why are you so good at everything?” The sarcastic scolding is followed by you kissing her silly until she’s flushed and tucking her bedhead behind her ears, her shy little habit that she’s had no matter how long you’ve been together. 

“So you like them, then?” Robin softly pinches your chin between her pointer finger and thumb and just looks at you looking back at her with this look in your eye that melts her into a puddle. 

“I love them, Rob, thankyouthankyouthankyou” you say in quick succession and then decide, “Let’s go to bed, huh?” 

Despite Robin’s still tired state she can’t help but quip, “Woah, baby, it’s just a haircut. Don’t tell me your regular hairdresser gets that from you!” 

[charaznablescanontoyota]

ticket + al ?

[this is an au just go with it trust the process]

al doesn't always get on the train in the morning. sometimes he sleeps in and skips class, sometimes he goes and has a long breakfast at the diner around the corner. sometimes he borrows the keys to winry's car and drives out to the lake to fish until the sun sets. but more times than not, he wakes up, makes coffee, and takes the train into the city. even if he does still skip class when he gets there.

today is one of those times. the commuter line is always two minutes late, and always crowded, so al gets to the platform ten minutes early and waits. he doesn't always do this. but he's feeling a window seat today, and he's also feeling...maybe getting to campus and then fucking off to the library. there's a reference book on quantum physics he's slogging his way through at the pace of about one chapter a week.

he gets a window seat in the same car he always sits in, and slides his walkman headphones over his ears. this is the least populated car on the train, which means that no one will talk to him. he's tried the other cars before; someone always does, whether it's a stranger or someone who knows him from class. sometimes it's nice. sometimes al gets starved for social interaction. but mostly, he wants to be left alone for the journey, and he knows no one will sit anywhere near him in this car.

except - well, except for the fact that a girl he doesn't recognize does exactly that, and sits down in the seat directly across from his.

"um," al says.

"shut up," the girl says. she's dressed all in black, probably his age if not a little younger, and her short hair is all on end like she's been running her hands through it. "you - you know something, don't you?"

he takes his headphones off slowly. "something about what?"

"you're not always on the train," she says.

"well," he says, and stretches the word out, stalling. he's beginning to get a sense for what this is about, but he doesn't want to believe it yet. "sure, i don't take it every day."

"not what i mean. you know what i mean."

"should i?"

"the guy is about to come in and ask for tickets," the girl says, exactly as the door to the car slides open and it begins to happen. "the two high school boys right near the door don't have theirs, but he'll let them go one stop before they have to get off. the lady one down from them is going to spill her whole purse out trying to find hers, and lose a tin of mints, a thing of chapstick, and -"

"stop, stop," al says, and waves her off, feeling vaguely nauseous. "i get it, okay?"

it happens the way she says it will. the way al knows it will. he and the girl both get their tickets punched, and don't talk again until the train is moving.

"what's your name?" the girl demands.

"al," he says.

"audrey," she says, in reciprocation. "do you have one of these? a number?"

she shows him her palm - the number 9 is printed there, etched on her skin in bright, unnatural green. only a little over a week. it's impressive that she's already picked up some of the patterns on the train, in that short a time. al realizes he's been reflexively curling his own right hand up into the sleeve of his coat, and grimaces.

"yeah, here," he says, and shows audrey his number.

her eyes go wide. "two-fifty? that's -"

"- almost a calendar year." he takes his hand back, tugs his sleeve down over it. "i'm aware."

"well," audrey says. she sinks back into her seat looking horribly perturbed, folding her arms over her chest. "fuck. have you tried learning the piano yet?"

"you think that would help?" al raises his eyebrows. he's not thought of that one before. "i could try it."

audrey opens her mouth, shuts it again. squints at him like she's trying to gauge if he's fucking with her.

"it's from a movie," she says.

"oh. i don't really watch movies," he says cheerfully.

"je-sus," audrey exhales. she runs a hand from her hair, pushing it so it sticks up in the other direction. "alright. well, what have you tried?"

[clovermarigold]

One Piece and a Sweet Tooth Reader

Luffy

Luffy learned of your particular obsession with all things sweet when he bumped into you in the middle of the night in his own kitchen raid, scooping Spoonfuls of sugar directly into your mouth. Luffy doesn't judge, as a matter of fact he's excited that he finally has someone to raid the kitchen with. Just keep in mind to let each of you have your own half of the kitchen because you have and will start fighting over food.

One night the two of you were playing tug of war with a pastry when Zoro, visibly upset, bed head and all, threw the two of you onto the crow's nest and didn't let you come down till the next day. To make things worse, he had Sanji start locking up at night, marking the end of you and Luffy's night raids.

Sanji

Sanji didn't realize the extent of your obsessive sweet tooth until he found out about yours and Luffy's nightly escapades. You had made a point to gush and praise nearly everything he made, though looking back on it, you were particularly adamant on the desert side of things.

After taking away your unsupervised kitchen access, it was apparent to the rest of the crew you were going through withdrawal symptoms. Sanji once found you passed out on the front of the deck from a particularly strong sugar crash.

Sanji makes sure to add sweet fruits and healthy alternatives so that you can enjoy your food and still eat healthy.

Nami

Nami is pretty concerned about the amount of sugar you put into your body on the daily. She has and will continue to police your diet. Once for dinner Sanji made a vegetable casserole. You of course were having none of it claiming to not be hungry. Nami pulled the ultimate mom move, not letting you leave the table until you ate your food.

Easy to say you were having none of it and acted like a child the entire time. Eventually you caved, eating a third of it, begrudgingly finding it delicious, 'damn you Sanji and your amazing ability to make garbage taste like heaven'.

Through a bit more gentle approaches and teamwork with Sanji, the two were able to get you on a more sustainable diet.

Usopp

Usopp the absolute bane of the crew's existence when it comes to fixing your eating habits. He can't help it! Just give him a small pout and he'll cave and either sneak you one of Sanji's baked goods or conveniently forget to lock the kitchen door.

Zorro has repeatedly had to scold him for being the 'weakest link'. In his defense, you never take too much advantage of him. Making sure to keep Luffy out of the kitchen when he leaves it open for you, and only ever asking when you can tell you're going to have a sugar crash.

With the exception of Sanji, who makes your delicious sweets, Usopp is your favorite person in the world.

Zoro

Zorro was fine with your unhealthy habits until it started to affect his sleep schedule. You and Luffy were not as sneaky as you thought you were, knocking pots and pans against each other in your quest for midnight munchies. Zorro slept closest to the kitchen, the only one close enough to hear your antics. It annoyed him, yes, but he put up with it, knowing in a few minutes the two of you would leave.

That was until the two of you started to argue and fight over some food. Finally losing his patients he threw the two of you in the crow's nest and slept leant up against the mast. The next morning, he told the others about your nightly ritual.

Having now explained his dwindling sugar rations, Sanji banned you and Luffy from the kitchen without Supervision. While Nami took it upon herself to fix your diet. You're still salty with Zoro about it to this day.

Shanks

Shanks has experience dealing with people with insatiable appetites. cough cough, Luffy. So, what's the difference besides a change in taste.

He doesn't police your eating habits like the others. Instead, making sure you consistently brush your teeth and eat the occasional fruit and drink lots of milk. That being said he doesn't always let you eat what you want.

"No that's quite enough" he says sliding the bowl of chocolates out of your reach. Cue, a five-hour long span of being passive aggressive. He's used to it though. And he knows the second he gives you a new treat you'll act like nothing ever happened.

Mihawk

Mihawk was never really one for candies and pestries. He prefers bitter chocolates and the occasional sweet wine, but not anywhere close to the extent of you. He isn't the biggest fan of your eating habits and will often chastise you for it. But it's never from spite or to be cruel, he just doesn't want you to get tooth rot. And considering how much you eat, it's a miracle you haven't yet.

Similarly, to Nami and Sanji, he will push you to eat healthier, but he does it differently. The other two find a middle ground in making healthy foods taste sweeter. Mihawk, for lack of a better way of saying it, dog trains you. Using sweets as a reward for eating healthy.

He will also use them to reward you in training. Hit your target dead on? Thats a sweet. He doesn't do it to be demeaning or condescending, it's just genuinely the only thing that works short of forcing the greens down your throat.

Buggy

There aren't many things capable of freaking out Buggy or catching him off guard. But the day he found out the extent of your sweet tooth was one of them.

You had a habit of eating the crew's caramel corn and cotton candy, which initially he had no problem with. All of the freaks skimmed off the top. But after a while he was running out of things to feed his audience... or, well... throw at. All he had left were peanuts and no one actually got the peanuts from the circus.

So, he took away your concession privileges.... This didn't end well. The term gremlin is best used to describe you when deprived of sugar.

Buggy's trying to enjoy peace and quiet? BAM you're there, leering at him from the shadows. Buggy's painting his makeup? BAM, you're in the mirrors reflection judging him.

Safe to say his circus is now renowned for their salted peanuts.... Someone send this man help.

[shenglingyuan]

title: words of wisdom and whatnots (ao3) pairing: togame jo/sakura haruka summary: sakura asks advice about his new bf from a certain senpai. his friends also tease him a lot (and tried to give him advice) if you were following my previous two togasaku fics, this happens in between them ;3;

The recent days have been quite a revelation for Sakura.

Even more so than friendship, dating someone is a completely new realm for him. Not that things have drastically changed between him and Togame ever since the festival. Instead, every single interaction they share now makes Sakura feel even more fuzzy all over. He can’t quite put a word on it, but it is a good feeling.

“Remember the bread Umemiya gave last time? It’s really good.” Togame’s leisurely pace in talking is a perfect company for walking. “I’m planning to go to your side of town later so I can buy a freshly baked version.”

He figured out early on that the guy isn’t too big on messages, which honestly is something he agrees with. Their phone calls even got more frequent, especially in the mornings when Sakura walks to school. It’s a welcome addition to his daily routine.

“Do it after my class, I’ll go with you. Call me when you’re on the way.”

“Afraid I’ll get lost?”

“The bakery’s literally along the same street as the entrance to the pub street.”

“You don’t have to come with me, then. I should be fine.”

“People will get worried if they see someone new roaming around in a different team’s jacket. I’ll go with you so you they know you’re not a troublemaker.”

“Almost thought you were worried for my safety.”

“Hah! As if someone here can actually endanger you.”

“Then I’ll take you up on that date. It is a date, yeah?”

“‘Course it is!” The words almost effortlessly come out from Sakura’s mouth, except that his cheeks started to warm up and his lips twisted into a pout, probably jumbling up his syllables. “What else would it be?”

Togame chuckles on the other end of the phone. “Can’t wait for it. Well, Choji’s calling for me. I’ll talk to you later, Sakura.”

The call drops just as Sakura turned to the street that directly leads to Furin. He’s learned from Togame that not everyone in Shishitoren actually goes to school. In fact, only a minority does, and Togame isn’t a part of that minority.

Must be nice to not have any extra responsibilities. He personally feels like Bofurin can still protect the town without having to attend school, but then most people would probably lose a reason to join Bofurin if they didn’t have to go.

Maybe he can afford to skip school one day and check how Shishitoren go about their daily life? Of course, it’s not just an excuse to see Togame. If he wants to be on Bofurin’s top one day, learning about other teams seems like an invaluable piece of knowledge. Right?

Togame Jo…how should he even treat him differently now that they’re actually dating?

With his mind circling back to Togame, he recalls their moment underneath the fireworks and the warmth of his hand as it tightly held his own, and the heat on his cheeks raises a degree warmer.

“—ning, Sakura-san!”

“AAH!” Sakura instinctively jumps a few steps back with a loud yelp. It’s Suo and Nirei, waiting for him by the gates of Furin. “How are you two always creeping up on me?!”

“We weren’t,” Nirei looks particularly offended, “We saw you from afar so we decided to wait for you here.”

“Ugh. Let’s go.” Sakura briskly walks ahead of them, slightly aware of his burning ears.

“What are you smiling about, though?” Suo asks as he catches up with Sakura’s steps. Of course, he’d be quick to notice and tease him about it.

“I ain’t smiling.”

“It’s actually a rather wide smile, Sakura-kun.”

“If it’s making you that happy, I don’t know why you have to hide it,” Nirei unhelpfully adds.

Sakura decides to ignore them until they finally reach the classroom and settle down on their chairs.

“You’re always like this, Sakura-kun.” Yet Suo is still not done pestering him. “I remember you were also like this last time after Umemiya-san talked with you about our fight with Shishitoren.”

“Oh yeah, we were calling you so many times across the street but you didn’t notice us until we were right in front of your face.”

“Sakura-kun blushing and feeling happy…by any chance, have you started dating someone?”

“Huh?! Who told you that?”

His outburst overpowers the buzzing noise in their classroom, resulting in a sudden silence all around them. Some even throw pointed quizzical stares towards their direction. Eventually, everybody returns to their own conversations, a bit used to Sakura yelling at the most random things.

“Nire-kun, he did not deny it.” Suo quietly notes when the attention on them finally dissipates.

“Whoa, you’re actually right.” Nirei is already pulling up his notebook to record this one-of-a-kind scoop on Sakura.

“Don’t write that! It’s none of your business.”

“Aha! So, you really are seeing someone. How impressive.”

“But, Sakura-san, you’re always blushing whenever there’s anything remotely romantic within your sight. I can’t imagine you being functional in a romantic situation yourself.”

“Is that a dig on me?” Sakura forms a fist in front of his face, his eyes throwing daggers towards Nirei’s direction, “Fight me outside, you little punk.”

“Let me guess who, Sakura-kun,” Suo smiles at him leisurely, carefully putting his raised fist down as Nirei uses his back to shield himself, “If I don’t get it right on the third try, I’ll grant you one fight where I go all out.”

“And what if you guess it right?”

“Hm, well, knowing this kind of information is prize enough. I’m not so cruel that I’d ask for more out of this.”

Now this is a deal that’s worth his while. Suo has always been avoiding a fight with him, not even for a sparring. He leans forward in excitement, a smug grin forming on his lips. “You have a deal.”

“Great!” Suo clasps his hand together, “Then, my first guess…”

He can’t wait to beat the shit out of Suo for all the times he teased him.

“…is Togame-san.”

…What the hell!

“You knew!”

“Oh? I was right?” Suo looks sincerely shocked, and behind him, Nirei looks like he has forgotten how to breathe. “I was just guessing, especially after he helped us a lot. You could have denied it, you know. But well, you’re still too young to know trade secrets. I told you gathering information is my specialty.”

“You—!” Got him played for a fool!

Just as he’s about to give Suo a beating right there and then, the teacher finally arrives, foiling his plan of revenge.

By break time, Sakura immediately escapes from further interrogation by running out of their classroom before Suo could make another remark. He contemplates skipping the rest of his class for the day, but Tamon 1-1 has patrol duty after class and he probably wouldn’t hear the end of it from Hiiragi if he missed that.

With nothing to do in the next thirty minutes, he finds himself heading down to the second year floor. There’s a lingering question in his mind which he knows that asking either Nirei or Suo about will lead him nowhere, they’re probably just as inexperienced. And besides, even if he does ask Takanashi who always talks about his girlfriend, his relationship with Togame will probably spread like wildfire if he talked about it to someone outside his closest circle.

Not that he wants to hide it, it’s just that he has enough teasing from Suo already. He can imagine that the whole class will pile on him if they knew and it will definitely bring him endless teasing. His classmates can be so rowdy, after all.

He arrives in front of the 2-1 classroom and peeks through their door. Kusumi sees him and understands at once, getting Kaji’s attention.

In the end, Sakura decides he should go to someone who seems wise enough to give him insight but will not tattle about the matter just to anybody.

That certain someone steps out of the classroom as he pulls down his headphones to his neck, “What is it?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Is it gonna take a while?”

“Not really, but...” He looks behind him where Kaji’s classmates just noticed that their treasured grade captain has been called for again.

Kaji nods in understanding, “Alright. To the rooftop we go.”

They both leave before Kaji’s classmates could even begin to horde around them like before. Upon arriving at the rooftop, Kaji raises an arm to stop him. “Wait here, let me check.”

He quickly surveys the vicinity, and upon seeing that the coast is clear, waves for Sakura to follow him. “Lock the door behind you. Don’t want anybody eavesdropping on us again.”

Then they settled right under the cherry blossom tree with the view of the city before them. The summer wind blows steadily, much warmer compared to the last time they talked on this rooftop. The matter back then was more serious, of course.

“Well, what is it that you wanted to talk about? Got a problem in class again?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Now that Sakura’s in this position, he suddenly feels that it’s too silly to ask Kaji something so personal. “I wanted to ask if…if you were newly dating someone, how would you treat them?”

“Ha? Why are you asking me that kind of question?”

“You seemed the type to know.”

“Relationships aren’t part of grade captain duties; I don’t understand how you came to think that I can advise you on this.” Kaji bites at the last of his lollipop, feeling a bit annoyed to have been brought up here for such trivial matters.

“It’s not just because we’re grade captains.”

Kaji pauses at these words.

So, Sakura seems to see him as a senior, after all. Not only for matters related to Bofurin, but also in general aspects of his life. Sakura could have gone to the third years for advice as they seem to be more attached to Sakura compared to him, but Sakura chose to seek his advice.

Not that he’s any good but, being recognized like this, who wouldn’t feel a bit moved? He knows that Sakura has been alone for almost all of his life before coming to Furin. He’s also aware that Furin itself has reliable seniors from whom everyone, even he himself, rely on. But now, the role of a reliable senior is being placed onto him.

Last time, he had Hiiragi’s wisdom to share. This time around, he is on his own.

“Kimura from our class has a girlfriend, he’s always talking about picking her up after school and walking home together. Asami had one before, I know he loved cooking for his ex before they broke up. I don’t have personal experience, so I can only share what I know from others,” He scratches the tip of his nose, feeling a bit embarrassed for what he is about to say, but he reckons making it more personal will give his words meaning. “But if it was me, I’d spend a lot of time with that special person. Doesn’t matter what we’re doing. Being in the same space would already mean a lot to me.”

“But…they don’t go to school with me. And I’m still bad at cooking.”

“You don’t have to do that same things that I mentioned. What I’m trying to say is, each person will have a different way to express their affection, and their own way to receive affection, as well. You just have to figure it out on your own, just like with everything else.”

Sakura cranes his neck, confusion still on his face.

“You fought with the deputy leadership of Shishitoren, didn’t you?”

“H-huh? Yeah. Why?” For some reason, Sakura suddenly looks flustered, a touch of pink shading his cheeks. What doesn’t fluster this guy, really?

“I’m sure the seniors told you something about having the desire to know your opponent and wanting to know more about them. Umemiya-san loves that piece a lot. I guess relationships are just like that: get to know the other person, let the other person know you. But this time, the other person is not an opponent.”

Finally, some semblance of clarity settles on Sakura’s face. Kaji realizes he should have framed his dilemma in the context of fighting from the get-go. This guy is too simple-minded, in the end.

“Well, make sure your dating woes don’t get in the way of your duties.” Kaji opens up another lollipop and turns on his heel, “But since that person is now important to you, then they’re important to Bofurin, as well. If you need help, make sure to let us know.”

His talk with Kaji was surprisingly productive. It’s just amusing how Kaji implied he can ask Bofurin’s help to protect his important person. Togame’s the last person who needs protection.

But if I grow even stronger, then I can be someone who protects him? Seems like a sound plan for Sakura.

The rest of the day ends without a hitch, what with exams coming up and their teachers trying their best to get the whole class be able to receive at least a passing mark. Unfortunately, they still had after-school patrol duties.

He can’t avoid Suo and Nirei forever. And for some reason who must definitely be Suo, Kiryu and Tsugeura found out about him dating someone and have been pestering him about it all the time they are doing their patrol at the other end of town.

“But the most important thing is,” Tsugeura hooks an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close, spectacularly failing to whisper his next question, “Have you kissed yet, though?”

“K-k-k-what!” Sakura sputters, the image of himself kissing Togame forming inside his mind and the tips of his ears burning up. He shoves Tsugeura away from him. “Of course not!”

“Why not?” Kiryu asks with an almost disappointed tone.

“Have you kissed anybody yourself?” Sakura says defensively.

“Well, I would have, but I really haven’t gotten a girlfriend. A gentleman’s lips are only for his beloved, you know.”

“Oh, Kiryu-kun that’s so romantic of you.” Tsugeura says with an enthusiastic nod, “That’s a great virtue.”

“Of course~ Ladies love romantics.”

On the side, Nirei writes everything down in his handy notebook. “Never been kissed. A true romantic.”

“It’s not like it’s important,” Sakura finally says when he has felt the warmth from his cheeks finally dissipate, “We just started going out.”

“Well, it’s expected of our Sakura-kun. He’s a very pure boy, after all,” Suo smiles innocently at them.

“You’re really asking for a beating, aren’t you?”

“Since when have you been going out, Sakura-san?”

“…Since the summer festiv— Don’t write that down!”

“A festival confession!” Kiryu claps his hand in delight, “Wowee, Sakura-chan, you’re even cooler than expected. Then, I’ll teach you something important. If you’re too shy to go for an actual kiss, you can try an indirect kiss.”

“W-what’s that?”

“It’s when you drink from the same cup or bottle that your girlfriend is drinking from, so technically, your lips indirectly touched each other because you drank from the same spot. It’s very common in romantic media, but I guess you don’t watch many of those, Sakura-chan.”

“It’s not…,” Sakura speaks up, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Despite his reservations, he’s determined to clear up the confusion. “Not a girl.”

“Oh,” Kiryu gasps, but there’s no judgment nor malice behind it at all. “Sorry for assuming. Should have realized someone of Sakura-chan’s charms would attract attention from everyone.”

“Is he from Furin?” Tsugeura, on his part, is suddenly even more curious. “It’s probably not anybody from our class, so is it our senior? Didn’t think your type would be someone older.”

To their credit, Suo and Nirei remain mum about what they knew…which is kind of inconvenient for Sakura because now, the decision to disclose this information relies solely on him. They usually handle information-related tasks as vice captains. But for Sakura’s personal matters…Kiryu and Tsugeura look at him expectantly.

“Sakura-kun, you don’t have to tell it to them if you’re not comfortable, you know,” Suo suddenly says, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

“No, it’s not like I want to hide it,” Sakura scratches the back of his neck and looks away, “I just…didn’t think it’d be this soon.”

“Then it’s okay. You don’t have to tell us who it is now.” Kiryu smiles, then turns to Tsugeura, “Right, Tsuge-chan?”

“Of course! Forcing information out of a friend is not one of my virtues. You can tell us when you finally want to share.” Tsugeura adds with a thumbs-up.

Sakura finally relaxes, thankful that the two other guys aren’t as sharp or as forceful as Suo when it comes to extracting information.

The rest of their patrol was filled with unsolicited words of advice from four inexperienced first years to an even more inexperienced classmate. If someone was listening on to their conversations, they’d definitely think that they are a bunch of hopeless romantics. Sakura thinks of running away from them from being overloaded with “dating” tips, it’s too much. Just too much.

As he is one advice away from actually bolting away, he sees a familiar set of monk’s clothes heading towards their direction.

It’s Togame, walking casually along the shopping street with his orange Shishitoren jacket hanging folded on the crook of his arm. He raises a hand when he saw that Sakura has noticed him. The other four notice him at the same time.

“Isn’t that Togame Jo of Shishitoren?” Tsugeura asks, “What’s he doing here?”

“Oh, Sakura-san, didn’t you have some matters to discuss with him?” Nirei suddenly says, an overly bright and obviously nervous smile painted on his face.

“Yeah, we should go ahead,” Suo interjects before Sakura can reply. “We’re almost done with our patrol anyway.”

It takes Sakura a moment to realize that his vice captains are helping in dragging Kiryu and Tsugeura away so he can go to Togame in peace. Turns out, the two of them knowing the truth early on can come in handy like this.

“Then I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

With a final farewell, Sakura parts ways with the rest of his group and strides towards Togame’s direction.

“I told you to call me when you’re on the way.”

“Was going to but I saw you from far away with your friends. You’re so easy to spot, you know.” Togame smiles as he ruffles Sakura’s hair. “Did I disturb your time with them?”

“Nah, just finished up patrol duty. Why aren’t you wearing your jacket?”

“You did tell me it will cause people to worry if I did. I don’t look like a troublemaker now, do I?”

Sakura shakes his head, smiling despite himself. Over three months ago, he had no one. Now, he has trustworthy friends and reliable seniors. There’s even someone he can call his special person. And yet, nothing feels out of place. He realizes that he has been worrying for nothing.

Just a moment with Togame and he knows, everything after will come naturally.

“You still do, but I’ll keep you in check.”

“Right. To the bakery, then?”

“Let’s go.”

[dailycharacteroption]

Malice Binder (Investigator Archetype)

(art by raynnerGIL on DeviantArt)

When one thinks of “witch hunter” in relation to Pathfinder, one typically thinks of some variant of the inquisitor class. I mean, it does have at least 3 anti-mage themed archetypes, among other things.

However, inquisitors, with all the baggage that comes with the concept, are not the only ones who may have beef with malicious practitioners of the arcane arts (or any, depending on their disposition). Indeed, some folk steeped in ancient traditions but with a keen mind, such as those living in rural communities, may learn enough of the old ways to fight back against those that would use them against them.

These so-called “Malice Binders” utilize old folk magic and the power of sympathetic magic as a weapon against magically-inclined foes, and if that sounds familiar, you’ve probably read about the 2E thaumaturge class, which sort of grew out of the inquisitor and occultist classes while managing to have magical folk power without ever casting a spell.

This archetype taps into two related concepts of the expert who deals with evil witches and mages, but also the “inquisition’s pet witch”, which can range in relationship from one of respect to one of abuse, these mage hunters (or perhaps a true mage in their company) being treated little better than a reviled but useful animal. Again, it really depends on the disposition of those involved.

Regardless, however, these hedge mages have what it takes to recognize the signs of magecraft and hitting mages where it hurts, so let’s take a look, shall we?

Rather than focus purely on knowledges, these investigators can apply their inspiration for free on skills associated with witch hunting, from recognizing magic and spells, tracking, and, most relevant to their skillset, the ability to steal from others with ease.

Indeed, the core ability of these hunters lies in their ability to acquire and recognize trinkets from their mark. Locks of hair, small baubles, scraps of cloth, and the like. Whether they steal it directly or find them in places where their prey has been, they can use these tokens in their own form of sympathetic magic.

Such effects include using an opposing holy symbol to instill dread, placing it between coins in the mouth to ward against the mage, soot to deafen or silence, rotten meat to repel them, literal salt in the wound to ward against further attacks, shackles to restrain, incense to fascinate, a compass to locate them, and an iron nail to inflict pain, all of which they must choose as they grow in skill.

Eventually, their skill at stealing such tokens from their marks becomes faster and easier, often leaving them shocked when they are missing even important items.

Alternatively, rather than learn a new fetter, these investigators can learn more traditional mundane or magical traps to help them literally ensnare their prey, not just ensorcell them.

This archetype is a clever idea for how to do a relatively nonmagical anti-mage, though the fact that these abilities don’t work on non-casters can be sometimes limiting, which is why the traps are a good alternate option. The fetters offer good defensive and offensive options for bringing down mages, and if you plan on taking traps too, I’d recommend those that deal continuous damage or inflict distracting conditions to help prevent spellcasting whenever possible. Beyond that, I recommend options to help disrupt in combat as well as better observe their environment.

I mentioned it earlier, but this archetype does remind me a bit of some things I’ve seen in fantasy fiction which toe the line between dark and even erotic, which might be inappropriate for some tables, so be careful where you draw inspiration from here. I imagine most characters will be simple witch hunters seeking to stop evil magic wherever they can, but even still, keep that in mind.

By inflaming anti-mage sentiment, the renegade chapter of the Sun God’s Faith known as the Unforgiving Eye has been gaining a lot of power and influence in recent years, and now they’re seeking to recruit malice binders from the hag-haunted lands of Ligos. However, there are plenty in Ligos that recognize the difference between good and evil practitioners, leading to something of a polarization among the populace.

Her family slain and her soul marked by a div cult, Vikari began learning all she could about the various weaknesses of magic and witchcraft so that she could destroy it wherever she found it. The young kasatha never expected, however, that she would find love among those she swore to destroy, however.

War is horror, and perhaps no war is more horrible than those where mages choose sides, leading to terrible destruction and survivors bearing curses worse than death. Seeking an edge, the party is sent to escort a malice binder seeking whatever scraps they can to cripple the enemy’s magical regiments… However, while scouring the battlefield, the party runs afoul a memitim psychopomp, who mistakes the occult arts of the binder as necromancy.

[russilton]

Maybe you'll give a sane response to this because twitter surely isn't lol

If someone likes Lewis for everything he does outside of the sport like his advocacy for the wrong in the world but can't stand him on track and the way he answers F1 questions is that underlying racism?

Okay I’ll start this off with a big disclaimer- I am white, I am not the primary voice you should be seeking about racism, and if a POC person gives their opinion about a matter of racial bias- you should be considering that ahead of mine because it comes from a primary perspective, I can only repeat what I’ve learned.

That said, what I would say is while TECHNICALLY it could be entirely possible to have genuinely divorced opinions on off vs on track behaviour— in all likelihood, yes it is underlying racism, at least on some level.

Not all racism comes in the form of active and direct bigotry, sometimes it’s about the biases it builds up in you.

I would encourage you to consider that if you only support Lewis in the off track actions he does you approve of and agree with, but don’t give him the dignity of being human and not answering things in a way that benefits you or other drivers you like- are you supporting or Lewis, or just what he does for you?

Lewis was a driver before he was an activist, he was a person before he spoke out, if anything it was his isolation as the only black driver in the sport that forced him into a position of advocating - because he had to advocate for himself above all else. All drivers speak from a place of ego but as the most successful driver to ever touch the sport, he’s arguably speaking more from a position of knowledge than most.

Lewis faces a level of pressure and scrutiny that goes above and beyond what other drivers get, both because he dominated for so long, AND because he is POC and faces questions no other driver does.

When he says something out of turn he is often punished for it far louder than others too. Notice how an emphasis is always placed on Lewis to apologise for incidents where other drivers are usually let off. The argument is not “should he apologise” as some take it to be. It’s the fact that max or other drivers can push and shove, but are never expected to own up to it (and when they do, they are are held up high for being ‘good sports’) but if Lewis is involved in a regular on track incident, the daggers are turned on him if he doesn’t publicly go out of his way to say sorry (such as the Oscar incidents).

This is even applied on a sporting level, such as the jaywalking incident in 2023 where the FIA directly stated they wanted to hand out a worse punishment to him as a “role model”

What you need to ask yourself is- why don’t you like Lewis on track/how he answers questions, what specifically don’t you like about it. Did you like him before when he was winning and less controversial to listen to? And is it only now when he is in a position of understandable turmoil and frustration that you’ve started to dislike him? If so, why is he not allowed space to express regret and frustration with what’s happening even if it’s not tactful?

If you never liked him at all, what drivers DO you like, and are you treating their on track behaviour the same as his? Lewis is not crash happy, he’s far from the most radio vocal, he’s aggressive and non passive like all drivers but he is not particularly dangerous on track. I can name multiple drivers who are fan favourites with far worse behaviour- if you don’t like Lewis, do you dislike them too, or are you at least acknowledging that behaviour.

I’d also point out that a lot of our beliefs about sports come from not just our own observations but from the mouths of pundits and journalists we then internalise- it’s why when the head of alpine spoke discouragingly of ocon in public, abuse of him skyrocketed, people put words to feelings you might have already had or not have thought about at all.

So if you dislike something about lewis’ driving- is that because someone told you that’s how they felt, and you followed it? A lot of pundits around f1 have had almost no training around racial bias, they might have barely heard of the concept. I’ve heard some of the most rancid, biased takes come out of the mouths of paid sky presenters without a single thought to the impact, even presenters I traditionally LIKE, such as Ted Kravitz, have been guilty of asking Lewis alone about political issues and no other drivers.

Like I said earlier, racism is not always an overt act of bigotry, but singling out one driver to ask certain different questions without considering why you aren’t asking the others, IS racist. Many pundits also know about as much about the inside of the garages as you do, but they are given more credibility because fame carries their voice further. Lewis has also been in the sport a long time, and has his past brought up constantly despite his efforts to move on and do better - and it doesn’t help that he often has to compete with voices of people he hasn’t spoken to in close to a decade or more coming back to act as if they can see inside his brain.

Now, you don’t have to like everything he says, I have 3 drivers I like, and I’d say I only like about 70% of what comes out of their mouths surrounding their attitude to sport. But they are independent people who are in massive positions of pressure. They also make mistakes, have flaws, and will react to things based on their own experiences. I don’t have to always agree with them to like who they are at their core, or believe they are doing the right thing.

I also don’t have to agree with everything they choose, to still like them. I adore Yuki and he’s a Redbull driver, sportspeople exist as humans beyond their job no matter what many “not political” drivers may try to act like.

But additionally If you’re going to say you like what Lewis does off the track- examine what that is, because despite what a lot of people say, even some fans, Lewis will ALWAYS be a racer. He will tell you himself that racing is his blood and bone, it made him who he is, it’s what he revolves his life around, it links and sticks to the core of his being. People can’t be easily split into things you like and don’t like, their experiences and occupations make them. It’s pretty impossible to separate Lewis into two distinct beings and say you like one or the other.

If people can break down every aspect of why they dislike him and comfortably come away with a genuine belief it’s just how he acts as a driver entirely divorced form any form of bias, then they’re welcome to continue to hold that belief, but I’d say people should consider why they feel the need to talk about their dislike rather than just doing their best to ignore him. There are drivers I don’t like for vibes alone, but I don’t exactly spend much time thinking about them, I couldn’t care less what they’re up to, or justifying why I don’t like them but I’m still an alright person.

I can’t imagine I’m the first person to say all this, and if there were poc folk saying this on twitter (I don’t use twitter, I have no idea what’s been said) and I’m the voice you chose to ask, I’d also encourage you to to examine that. Self examination isn’t a one time thing, it’s a life long process, and I’ve had to do it myself plenty of times and will continue to. Just because you don’t like the WAY someone says something, doesn’t mean they’re wrong.

It shouldn’t take a white guy mainsplaining a topic to make you comfy with it, there’s far, far too many of those already. Listen to primary voices

[chronicparagon]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄,    his  dark  eyes  rest  with  her  alone.  his  shining  light.  his  little  dahlia.  miss. harmony  halcyon  who  now  stands  against  the  snow-white  pillar  &  with  a  weary  smile  attempts  to  dismiss  yet  another  contender,  only  to  fail;   the  man  is  much  too  persistent,  much  too  audacious  &  forward.  ohh..  she  really  is  a  handful,  the  young  serial  killer thinks  while  approaching  them  slowly,  weaving  like  a  black  mamba  among  the  carefree  masses.  he  never  even  sees  him  coming.  not  until  envy  pauses  right  beside  &  preening  over  the  man’s  shoulder,  proceeds  to  stare  right  into  his  bright  blue  eyes.

          ❝    . . . . .    ❞

the  sheer  proximity  makes  the  male  stumble,  spilling  his  drink.  he  instantly  opens  his  mouth  to  bite  back  but  as  soon  as  their  eyes  lock  together,  all  those  fearless  &  fiery  words  just  die  in  his  throat.  envy  doesn’t  even  blink  in  turn.  in  fact,  he  didn’t  even  straighten  up  as  the   '  last  christmas  ’  song  plays  on,  painting  quite  a  stark  contrast  between  the  dancing  crowd  &  his  very  own,  motionless  frame  ──  so  incredibly  tall,  dark  &  charming,  yet  strangely disturbing all the same  ──  looking  just  like  a  pale-faced  demon  beneath  all  the  neon  lights.

the  man  throws  harmony  a  confused  glance  but  as soon as he does, envy  suddenly reaches  out  &  shoves  him,  most  nonchalantly straightening up to take   the  empty  spot  for  himself.  now,  looking  back,  those  dead  black  eyes  land  on  harmony  again  &  along  their  wicked gaze  comes  a  wide,  boyish  smile.  after  all,  she  must  have  noticed  it  by  now...   right?  they  are  standing  directly  beneath  a  mistletoe  &  while  the  young  serial  killer  isn’t  much  of  a  believer,  he  still  steps  closer  &  wrapping  own  arms  around  her  waist,  proceeds  to  worship  her  without  words;

      a  most  slow, devouring  kiss. 

Harmony didn't mean to stay away for too long. She came to this party with Envy, mainly because she asked him to go with her. They parted ways when she admits that she needed to go to the women's room, but promised to come back. Unfortunately, this man made a beeline for her while she was returning to the corner of the room where she left Envy. He stopped her and the girl quickly learned that he wasn't there just to say hello. He wanted something more.

The man is certainly handsome with his blue eyes and charming smile, but she doesn’t want him. She wants her Envy, the moon of her life.

"No. I came here with my boyfriend and I need to go back to him." Though she's tired of his persistence, Harmony smiles just to be polite. Her answers to the man's advances were rehashing the same things: "I'm sorry, but no. I don't want to leave with you." He didn't seem willing to accept that she was not single. As much as Harmony wants to push him away, she doesn't as she's sure that Envy is seeing this.

“May you please let me go?”

There was no doubt in her mind that he wouldn't let the other man get away with this. Her eyes would turn away from the man before her, searching for any sign of him. Even when she searches for him, Harmony fails to find the Little Killer. He is a master of sneaking in the shadows, silently weaving through the crowd that continue to celebrate over drinks and music. They are unaware that danger lurks among them. 

Silver eyes widen and a soft gasp follows to see the tall figure in black suddenly appear from the festive scene. Harmony didn’t know her dark knight was approaching until just now. It seems the stranger had no idea until he notices Envy peering over his shoulder.  

Harmony watches on, though she’s relieved that Envy put an end to the other man’s flirting, she fears Envy would inflict that worst punishment for trying to steal her. Not that he had any chance to do so in the first place. She’s not interested in the newcomer. Not one bit. 

Still, she fears that this date will end with blood spilled and she silently pleads that Envy will not go that far. Harmony flinches when Envy finally moves, shoving the man away before moving into his place. Relief washed over her to see that Envy won’t escalate the situation further.

He should consider himself lucky. Envy could have done far worse than that. He seems far too scared to challenge Envy. That would certainly be the best choice.

The girl tilts her head back, smiling back at Envy, but her eyes widen in surprise to see what’s above them. How could she not notice the mistletoe hanging above them? Thank heavens the other man didn’t notice! She would still refused if that was the case. But when it comes to Envy...

Well, how can she deny him? That wouldn’t be fair, would it?

Arms wrap loosely around Envy’s neck as he pulls her close.  Lips meet his in a slow kiss. Surely, he must taste the vanilla bean lip gloss she put on before leaving the restroom. It would be a nice little surprise for him and him alone. 

@s-talking

[taechnological]

sae why are people trying to jump to conclusions about jk's tattoos... like can't the man cover his old tattoos without an ulterior motive to it like damn let the man live 😐

i'm just.... not here for ppl just assuming his or any member's feelings and then acting like it's a fact :/

[rayshippouuchiha]

I read “[Naruto] made budgeting and math his bitch” and all I want to say, to ask, is to consider the possibility that he’s the one in charge of Team 7’s budget? Please and thank you for your time.

It takes Naruto a bit to notice it. Takes a while for all the pieces to line up just right for him to see it.

His team, as talented as they all are, are absolute shit with money.

They're up north, huddled together on the roadside just inside of Tomi, the capital city of the midsized island that makes up Gold Country, when the truth comes out.

Their mission had been long and draining and they're all looking forward to a ship back to the mainland and a stop at an Inn for a night before they start the trek back to Konoha.

The only problem with that plan is the fact that everyone is flat broke.

Everyone, that is, except for Naruto. Which the other three would know if they'd bothered to ask him instead of assuming he was just as broke as they are.

Because Naruto's wallet is basically still as fat as ever despite the length of time they've been gone and the fact that he's done his definition of splurging at the shops in Tomi. He'd put the few hours where they'd split up before meeting again to start looking for a ship back to very very good use.

Supplies were always cheaper for him outside of Konoha proper where the shopkeepers don't know him and he's actually allowed to haggle. Plus their contractor, an ancient silk merchant named Kaede, had taken enough of a liking to Naruto to put in a good word for him at the local shops.

A courtesy that she, apparently, hadn't offered to the rest of the team or maybe just one they hadn't bothered to take her up on. Naruto isn't sure which it is exactly.

But if it's the second option then Naruto's not sure what to think. He'd never turn a discount or chance to haggle down, no matter how small it is. He knows better.

"Well," Kakashi-sensei says brightly. "Looks like we'll be running to the mainland and camping until we're back home. Let that be a lesson to all of us to bring more money next time."

Sakura looks like she's on the verge of either tears or a tantrum and Sasuke looks as blank as always except for the slightly displeased curl of his mouth.

Naruto finds himself a mix of both of their reactions because what?

Bring more money? That was Kakashi-sensei's solution? Just bring more? Like what Naruto knows was in each of their wallets before they left Konoha wasn't a good six months of Naruto's regular budget?

And they've got relatively little to show for the fact that they spent it all?

How??

It's in that moment that the truth hits Naruto directly in the face.

He's the only poor person on this Team. He's the only one of them who has ever had to actually worry about money.

Sakura has parents who actually love and house her, all her mission earnings are pure profit. Kakashi-sensei is probably the shinobi version of rich with his rank and all the high-level missions he's taken. And Sasuke is absolutely the shinobi version of rich with the wealth of an entire Clan at his disposal.

When they run out of money they just ... go get more.

Naruto, with his crumbling apartment and trap-wire thin budget, lives an entirely different kind of life.

They can probably just walk right into the Konoha bank he's sure they all use, the same one Naruto's never been allowed into, and just withdraw more money.

Not Naruto. All of his money, whatever he's scrimped and saved for, has always either been on his person or hidden away in a hollowed space beneath his bed.

For a long moment, Naruto debates with himself. Considers not saying anything and just following along with Kakashi's plan.

But, well, he does have the money and they are his Team.

So ...

"I got this," Naruto huffs out as he holds up his still bulging wallet. "But we're doing it my way and you'd all better pay me back if I spend anything."

He doesn't bother to listen to their protests or whatever they might say or do. Instead he turns on his heel and stalks off towards the docks, intent on finding them a ride to the mainland that doesn't make him want to gouge his eyes out at the price.

Half an hour later finds them settled on the deck of a small fishing vessel, warm pork buns in hand, and Naruto not missing a single yen.

The hoard of shadow clones he has practically crawling over the ship ended up being payment enough for the weathered-looking woman who'd given them passage.

He ignores the way the others stare at him and focuses on eating his lunch, mind already ticking over what Inns he remembers them passing and what he could do to get them a night's stay for the lowest cost possible.

With him in the lead, they manage to make it all the way back to Fire Country without having to pay for much of anything at all. Naruto had bartered everything from his shadow clones to Kakashi-sensei kissing the back of some woman's hand to his own help modeling a kimono while waitressing in his female form at a restaurant in Blouder City for food and lodging.

He'd actually like that last job the most since Tsubame-san had not only let him keep the kimono but he'd made a small fortune in tips as well.

It's not until they stop at the Black River Inn, the last waypoint before they reach Konoha proper, that Naruto finally steps back. Much to the puzzlement of the rest of the team, he lets Kakashi-sensei step up and rent them a room instead.

Tatsuyomi, the man who runs the inn, is the brother-in-law of the woman who runs the Tree Bud in Konoha.

He knows Naruto on sight.

It's not until they're settled into their shared room that night, the others eating a hot meal from the kitchen and Naruto eating the last of meat buns the cook Akira had slipped him before Naruto left the restaurant in Boulder, that someone finally asks.

"How'd you get so good with money, Naruto?" Sakura is the one to break the ice. "Figured you'd blow it all on ramen or something by now."

"He didn't actually pay for much," Sasuke points out quietly. "And nothing full price. He traded and haggled for everything instead."

"Still," Sakura presses. "He's the only one of us who isn't broke and he managed to get us a stay in every Inn we came across on the way home. Kind of weird."

Naruto stops, stares down that the cold meat bun in his hand, eyes squinted almost closed and shoulders tight.

He forces himself to breathe, to let the tension flow off and away.

He takes a bite of his bun.

Chews.

"I've never had parents," Naruto finds himself saying.

Around him the room goes absolutely silent.

"Don't have a Clan or a guardian or anything either," Naruto's shoulders shift restlessly, nails biting into the soft flesh of the bun in his hand. "Been living off the orphan's stipend since I was four. The pay from that is ... there's never been a lot to go around. There's always bills and supplies so I had to learn to make what I had really count. Being hungry for a long time sucks you know? Never want to do that again, not after the first few times. Not unless I have to."

"Y-You get mission pay now though right?" Sakura says, voice low and eyes wide.

"Don't get the stipend anymore though, that stopped when I got my headband," Naruto shrugs again, uncomfortable in his skin for a reason he can't properly name. "And mission pay gets split so ..."

The quiet is thick around them. Sasuke is practically glaring at his bowl and Kakashi-sensei's knuckles are white around the edges of his book.

"But yeah," Naruto finally says as he pushes himself up onto his feet, half eaten bun in hand, and turns to hop up onto the windowsill, "I learned money stuff real young. Probably the only school thing I was ever really good at."

A flex of muscle has him out the window and sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling and conversation officially over.

The rest of the night and the journey back to Konoha proper is quiet.

The next time they go on an extended mission outside of the village it's Naruto who's in charge of any and everything even remotely money-related as soon as they pass the border.

And if their mission pay starts getting split three ways instead of four, well, Kakashi-sensei doesn't say anything so Naruto doesn't either.

[love-toxin]

mahito manipulating u nd junpei,,threesome,,,hhh a fearsome if u will,,hhhhhh

hm.....i will dare to take this in a different direction...bc i think mahito manipulating from the sidelines is my preferred outcome....picture this....

cw: fem reader, noncon, canon character death mention, manipulation, misogyny, mahito manipulates junpei into thinking he's owed sex, and other such messed up concepts. read with caution!

Junpei has been manipulated to side with Mahito and his curses. And with a few years of practice, he learns not only how to use his powers, but how to turn his back on the world completely and disregard human life, just like Mahito. He's almost like a little puppet, except for the fact that there's one thing he can't let go of--and it's a human, much to his own dismay.

He already had the thought of you in the back of his mind for all this time, despite it growing smaller and smaller gradually as he spent more time apart from you, and steadily worked on convincing himself that you were just like all the others. You probably don't even remember him, and if you do, it's probably just with contempt. That is, until on his yearly pilgrimage to visit his mother's grave, he finds you standing there. You're grown, soft-looking, mature, and you're just as pretty as he remembered you being. You were the only one who ever dared to stand up for him in school, you even got detention a couple times because of him--and despite you only having talked on occasion, and never really getting to the realm of friendship on account of his shyness, when you turn to look at him as he approaches your eyes glimmer with recognition.

"Junpei?"

Shock turns to joy, much to his surprise, and for the first time in years he actually gets to talk to you. He learns that you knew his mother better than he realized, that you used to bring her food from your own mother and have a chat now and then. It starts to make sense why his mom always used to make comments about you, egging him on in that playful way of hers to ask you out on a date. But that's neither here nor there--for awhile you share memories of her, talking quietly amongst the gravestones and meandering through them once you've lingered long enough, and you part by exchanging phone numbers and with you promising you'll find some time to talk again.

And despite being ecstatic to see you again, to brush against you like he always dreamed of doing, Junpei is terrified. He feels things for you, and not only does that directly go against everything Mahito has taught him, but it means that you're now a target for danger just like his mom was. He's stressed and anxious and doesn't know what to do, but in the end, Mahito finds out about his little encounter. And much to his surprise, he starts to encourage him to pursue you....but in the worst way possible. All manner of awful, filthy things spew from Mahito's mouth, his suggestions wildly inappropriate and on the cusp of illegal (not that that really matters for him, though) and eventually Junpei just has to insist that he do nothing, and try to forget you even exist so they can continue with their plans. That's the most important thing, right?

Wrong. That's so boring--Mahito can't believe he's such a prude, though he should've expected it. So he does the only sensible thing and tracks you down, finds out where you live, and stalks you for a couple days. You're cuter than he expected, if humans can be considered cute, and when he's got enough information to wrap you around his little finger, he breaks into your home while you're gone and waits for you to come back. Cue some aggression and threats to call the police when you arrive, followed by his own promise to murder Junpei and everyone else you love in front of you if you don't do what he says, and he's got himself a pretty little thing to bounce on his cock and whimper pleas for mercy for an hour or two. And like a good friend, he doesn't speak a word of it to Junpei after he leaves you dripping and teary-eyed on your bedroom floor. What good would that do? It's much more fun to watch him pine over you, wondering why you're ignoring his texts and calls, until he gets so frustrated and feels so rejected that Mahito's suggestions suddenly seem a lot more palatable.

"She's just stringing you along, isn't she, Junpei? All girls are like that, you'll realize."

"I thought she was different..."

"Maybe she is. You just have to show her her place."

It's a long journey to your home, or at least it feels like it when so many thoughts are running through Junpei's mind, but when the two of them slip in through the front door he can already tell his mind is made up. The vast array of locks he finds inside it don't bother him, nor does the dishes piled up in the sink or the quiet sniffling that comes through the door slightly ajar to your bedroom. He enters first, quietly, his shoes already having been toed off at the front door, and when you look up at him beneath the covers that hide your body from the world, your eyes widen at the man that stands so close he could touch you. This time, when his name escapes you, it's laced with fear--and only then does he relent completely, and kneels at your side with open arms for you to throw yourself into them. It's a new experience to hold you in such a way, to feel you melt into his embrace as you sob out your gratitude that nothing has happened to him, peppered with apologies for shutting yourself off from him. He's the only one you feel safe with anymore, the only one you can trust, and when he swears he'll take responsibility for you you just can't stop yourself from completely falling in love, no matter how misguided it is in your desperation for comfort. You'll do anything to keep this feeling of safety that he gives you, even when it means letting your tears melt into sweat and your sniffles into moans, his desire for you to give yourself up to him seeming completely reasonable in the heat of the moment.

It changes when Junpei's head nestles into the crook of your neck, his body pressed against you like a wall as he keeps you pinned to your bed, and his hips move at a pace you can only brace yourself for, and not even attempt to keep up with. It feels right, like you've waited for it for a long time--but the glimpse you catch of that gray-haired man watching you through your bedroom door, his grin so chilling as he takes a sip from the cup you left on the counter, reassures you that you will never find peace again as long as you live.

[somnambulants]

hi!! i was just wondering if i could request more yelena where yelena introduces her gf to natasha and her family and she’s uncharacteristically nervous so nat finds it amusing? thank you :)

a bit of minor surgery

summary: Yelena tries to keep you to herself but her family has other ideas word count: 1.7K notes: so this is a little different to what you asked for but i hope you still like it! for the sake of this, nat, yelena, alexei and melina are just one happy family 

“But if we –"

Natasha holds up a hand and Yelena stops talking. “Do you hear that?”

It’s faint but there’s the sound of someone moving around on her apartment floor. Being the only person who lives on this floor and one of the few in this building is enough for this to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

Survival for them has always meant constant vigilance.

Both of their heads swivel towards the front door as the footsteps become louder, very clearly approaching her apartment.

Yelena doesn’t have to look to know Natasha is mirroring her, pulling out her gun and scanning every entry-way for possible intruders.

On edge, Yelena presses herself against the door, readying herself until she listens properly and realises the approaching footsteps sound familiar. 

Somehow, she feels herself relax and become even more tense at the same time.

“Stop,” she says as Natasha moves towards the door as well, holding an arm out to stop her. “It’s okay. I know who it is.”

At her words Natasha relaxes, putting her gun away but she watches her face carefully as she does so.

The panic Yelena can feel building inside her must not be as well hidden as she thought because a slow grin spreads across her face as the sound of a gentle knock echoes through Yelena’s apartment.

“Is it..?”

“Yes,” Yelena replies curtly. “And no. You can’t meet them.”

Natasha gives her a wicked look, clicking her teeth together teasingly. “What? Scared I’ll…eat them?”

She snickers as Yelena reaches out and shoves her hard enough to knock the air out of her while also giving her a firm and clear: im going to kill you if you don't listen to me look as she goes to open the door.

Not that it's ever stopped Natasha before.

“Just stay there,” Yelena hisses and then wrenches the door open, finding you behind it with your hand still mid-air, prepared to knock a second time.

“Y/N!”

“Hi,” you say, looking a little startled but smiling at her none the less as you drop your hand.

Beside her and thankfully, just out of your view, Natasha, to her credit, is silent but Yelena can feel her gaze glued to her face and can especially feel the amusement radiating off her in waves.

She grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Your own fades a little as you take her in. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Yelena says quickly. Still out of sight, Natasha lets out a huff of laughter just quiet enough that she hopes she’s the only one that hears her.

“Not at all,” she adds, and since the door covers most of her body, it’s safe for her to reach out and pinch Natasha on the arm. Which is what she does. Hard. “Just --give me a second?”

Clearly still puzzled, you nod and Yelena closes the door, giving you a smile that she has a feeling looks more like a grimace.

Next she grabs Natasha by the arm and starts walking her forcibly towards the window. “Out.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow as she pulls them to an abrupt stop, looking at her then looking out the window. “You seriously want me to scale ten stories because you’re an idiot?”

As an answer, Yelena unlocks the latch and lets the window sweep open, giving her a pointed look that says: Yes. Obviously. 

Natasha rolls her eyes but to Yelena’s relief, she slides out the window.

“неудачник,” is all she says in parting before she disappears, dropping down the stairwell and vanishing from sight completely.

The word lingers in the air after her: Loser.

Yelena scowls after her for a second before she rushes back to the door and opens it, letting out a sigh of relief when she sees you’re still there, standing in the same spot.

“Sorry,” she apologises, swinging the door open. “There was just a uh, complication....a spider. I caught it and put it outside. I know you hate them.”

As she speaks, you slowly raise one eyebrow at her. The other quickly follows and it's then that she notices the narrowed look in your eyes.

When you start speaking, your voice is low and scarily calm. “So it has nothing to do with the woman I just made eye contact with as she was climbing down your fire escape?”

Something Yelena is proud to say is that in her life there have been very few times she’s been at a loss for words. 

This however is one of them.

She stares at you, blankly, knowing her panic must be showing on her face by the way your expression progressively becomes darker and darker as seconds pass and she fumbles frantically for something to say.

“I, uh, she is, she, uh –”

“—Natasha Romanoff. Nice to meet you.”

To her credit, Natasha has always been the stealthier of the two of them. Ignoring that fact, Yelena chooses to believe that her being distracted by you is why she doesn’t hear her coming back up the stairwell.

She also chooses to believe that she didn’t visibly jump at the sound of her voice and that the cough Natasha lets out is genuine and not covering up a laugh that says she’s going to mock her mercilessly for this entire thing later.

Of course, Yelena can’t fool herself but she tries anyway.

You look even more unimpressed as Natasha comes to a stop beside her and it clicks in Yelena’s head that you think her and Natasha – her and Natasha. She can’t even finish the thought.

As funny as it is, she doesn’t let herself laugh, knowing instinctively that it’s not a good idea. The flinty look in your eyes just confirms how much of a not good idea that is.

Just because you weren’t raised like her doesn’t mean that you couldn’t pack a punch; something she learned early on in your relationship when she’d accidentally snuck up on you once. She’d had a black eye for weeks after that.

“Natasha is my --” she isn’t sure how to say: ‘this is the woman I was trained to kill people with while we grew up being tortured and experimented on, remember I told you?’ In a way that won’t make you go running for the hills.

As she trails off, Natasha, sensing her panic, jumps in. Yelena knows that internally, she must be laughing hysterically though to her merit, she keeps it to herself. “I’m her… sister. Of sorts.”

You know about her past – all of what she was willing to repeat of it anyway – so comprehension quickly dawns on your face.

“Then why…?”

She watches as Natasha’s mouth twitches, sounding amused as she directly addresses you: “Well... my sister is an idiot. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Yelena tenses as you give her a once over, raking your eyes over her consideringly, before you turn back to Natasha.  “I may have noticed that. Yes.”

"Hey," Yelena protests, weakly. "That's not fair."

You give her a pointed look and she falls silent. Resigned to her fate, she lets out a sigh.

She can tell from the matching scheming looks brewing in both your own and Natasha’s eyes that this is only going to be the start of her own personal torment.

--

The one thing she really, really hates about her family is that they have this habit of showing up unannounced – you’d think that the whole being assassins and consequently, a little trigger happy as a result would make someone call ahead but no.

Never.

For this reason, it comes as no surprise when there’s the familiar three tap repetitive secret knock knock knock they had all come up with years ago on her front door early the following morning.

Silently, Yelena prays you don’t hear it and stay asleep as she drags herself out of bed and prepares herself for what she’s about to deal with.

Truthfully, she’s a little surprised that they’d had enough tact to wait until morning. She’d half expected them to be knocking her door down the second Natasha relayed last nights events to them. 

Yanking the door open, she comes face-to-face with Alexei and Melina. Taking them both in and cataloguing mentally that they look alive and uninjured, she lets herself glare at both of them.

“Is something wrong?”

They both frown. “No?”

“Okay I’m closing the door then.”

She starts to swing it shut but it’s quickly caught as Alexei shoves a foot in between it and the doorframe, giving her a reproachful look.

“Is your –”

“Yes,” Yelena interrupts, scowling harder than before, if that was even possible. “Now, leave.”

The look on Alexei’s face shifts, now suddenly a little too much on the wrong side of sneaky. “Can we—”

“No.”

“But–"

“I don’t care. You can’t meet them,” she barks, probably too loudly, as she shoves him back out into the hallway. If she has to throw them bodily out of here, she will. It just would likely attract your attention, which is the opposite of what she wants. “They’re asleep.”

“We can wake them,” he suggests, unhelpfully.

Yelena glares at him harder. “No.”

It’s faint but all of a sudden, she can hear the sound of a door squeaking as it opens. Her bedroom door to be more exact. Your voice calling out to her quickly follows.

“Okay,” she says. “I’m closing the door now.”

“Hey, no wait –” Alexei starts to protest. Yelena closes the door firmly in their faces and is working on dead-bolting it just as you appear in her line of sight.

You blink at her blearily, wearing just one of her T-shirts and nothing else. Thank god she hadn’t let them in. “Who was that?”

“Neighbours,” Yelena lies. “Looking for their …cat.”

Still half asleep, you don’t think to question her and she sags against the door in relief as you venture into the kitchen in search of coffee.

To her relief, there are no subsequent persistent knocks or calls through the door and after a second, she can hear the quiet sound of footsteps and Alexei’s grumbling as they retreat.

Natasha is one thing – their parents or pseudo-parents or whatever they are – are another thing entirely. She’d save that one for another day.

Or never, preferably.

[hollandsmushroom]

Okay well this is me requesting the bench press fix blurb whatever it is lol, I don’t mind if there’s no smut, up to you and how you feel while writing it, thanks!

Both Fucking Bench Press || T.H.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, 69, filthy, cum eating(obvi), oral both fem and masc receiving

Word Count: 1650

A/n: Third installment of my accidental series about Y/n and readers at home gym debauchery, I don't know how this came to be but you guys seemed to love it so I hope you like this one just as well. It isn't necessary to read these but this is part 1 and 2: Mouth Fucking Pushups Mother Fucking Squats

give feedback here and read more here

At this point you and Tom should have learned that you are incapable of working out together, it was always gonna end up with pants on the floor and cum smeared faces but you let that slip your mind as you both made your way down to the in home gym, preparing for your respective workout routines. You knew it wasn’t going to end with you both having completed your planned activities but you also knew that it was going to end with you having had some form of work out, a much more pleasurable one than you had mapped out.

You wished that you could have held out longer than you did, laying on the floor trying to focus more on the burn in your abs than the soft grunts of exertion that were leaving Tom’s perfect lips but your attempts were useless, back falling onto the padded floor one final time and bending your neck backwards, catching a glimpse of Tom over your shoulder, your eyes able to see directly up the leg of his loose fitting workout shorts. You could see all the way to the swell of his peachy bum and where the hair on his legs got thicker as it hit around the base of his dick. Your mind wandered as you noted this, why wasn’t he wearing boxers?

You pushed up from where you had lain, standing up and moving towards Tom, swinging one leg over his waist and bracketing Tom’s hips with your knees, your cunt hovering just above his apparently already hard cock. Tom’s eyes widened at your sudden presence but didn’t question it, racking up the bar and eyeing your finger as it scratched its way down his chest tantalizingly slow. His sore hand grabbed your wrist gently, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss to the flesh just over where he could feel your heartbeat.

“What are you doing, love?” Tom muttered, eyes you through the shade of his interwoven lashes.

“Wondering” your response was short, prompting a raised eyebrow and a nip at your skin.

“What are you wondering?” you shook your hand free of Tom’s gentle grip, going to squeeze his flexed muscle as you leaned forward, lips dancing like a flame near his own as you uttered your inquiry.

“Could my superhero boyfriend bench press me?” your eyes were locked with his as you spoke but flickered downwards as finished, watching how his lip became entrapped between his teeth, a wicked grin over taking his face as his hands trailed down your sides, gripping into your hips and picking you up. Tom’s biceps flexed deliciously as he hoisted you up above him, pressing you up so your abdomen was above his face, shirt loosening and exposing the sweaty skin to his eager eyes. He had been watching you, you just didn’t realize, like before when he had placed himself between your legs and the moment devolved in your cunt smearing across his face.

“He most definitely can” Tom growled, unlocking the joint of his elbow and letting you lower towards his face, your legs straightened out so you didn’t fall off of his flattened palms as he pressed you back up again.

“Holy fuck” the words slipped past you lips on instinct, in pure awe of your partners strength, the exhibition of his power sending a heat to the plush between your legs, hieghtening the sensation of your heartbeat in you finger tips as you held them out, head ducked down to be able to witness the strain and tensing of Tom’s bicep, loving how if moved under his taught tan skin.

“Holy fuck is right” Tom uttered and you heard the swish of his unfitted workout shorts, drawing your eyes to the prominent bulge that laid beneath the breathable fabric, bringing your mind back to the glimpse of him that you saw earlier from your position of the floor.

“You’re hard” you didn’t realize the words were coming out of your mouth until you heard Tom chuckle, legs shifting with anticipation and need.

“Uh, yeah, I um, yeah” Tom choked on his words, the rare spark of anxiety burning in his chest as if you hadn’t rode his face and he hadn’t fucked your mouth in the last month.

“I’m soaking” you muttered in assurance, an appeal to help douse the flame of insecurity that your boyfriend seemed to be fueling and it seemed to snap him right out of it, his eyes widening immediately.

“Yeah?” the tone of his voice had completely changed, and shred of doubt dissipating entirely as he twisted your body above his, spinning you like a baton as if it was the easiest thing in the world ceasing as your bodies laid parallel, pointing in opposite directions. “Let me see” the sly syllables trailed past his lips as he brought you down, your knees instinctively bending and resting on the work out bench so that your knees bracketed Tom’s face.

Tom’s cock was in your face, trapped beneath the constraining fabric of his shorts, an alluring sight that had your mouth watering instantly. You pressed one hand into the cushioned bench, using your other hand to cup his cock, his length practically jumped at your touch. A shiver etched its way down your spine as Tom’s fingers curled into the hem of your pants, tugging down at the tight fabric, your panties coming with, as he exposed your core to himself, and your description was apt, you were soaking.

“Fuck, baby, you’re not just soaking your dripping” his hands massaged yoru ass cheeks as he pulled you down close to his facd, close enough that his tongue was able to swipe through your folds and gather your arousal in his tongue, the taste earning a hum from the depths of his chest. A strangled moan escaped your mouth and Tom joined in, the sensation forcing your hand to tighten around his hard on.

“Tommy, are we-” you stopped, choking on the fact that Tom’s lips were now wrapped around your bundle of nerves, sucking as he let kitten licks press through his pout. “Are we going to do this?” you were finally able to get out, your hand shaking as pleasure coursed through your veins, fingers slipping underneath the fabric and near Tom’s heated cock, pulling down the waistband till it was resting beneath Tom’s balls.

“I thought we already were,” he mumbled, his face still buried in your cunt as he traced your folds with the flexed tip of his tongue. You smiled widely as you listened to Tom’s words, leaning down and taking Tom’s leaking tip into your mouth, the salty taste of precum blooming across your taste buds as you began to suck intently. Your actions made Tom moan loudly into your cunt, jaw opening wide and sending the humming sensation through your cunt. His cock was heavy on your tongue, the weightiness of emboldened and libido flushed flesh. You were both devolving into moaning messes, spit and arousal dripping mouth and cunt alike, an exchange of the most animalistic kind, and it was burning its way through you. The fact that when you bent your head just right, licking at the side of his cock with intensity, you could watch Tom eat you from between your bodies was exciting and intensifying every freeling your body was experiencing.

Tom dragged his tongue from your clits, swirling the taught muscle downwards till it drew circles of your spasming entrance, teasing the hole as he dipped into it slowly. He rocked his head as he did so, pressing the crook of his nose to your clit but it wasn’t enough to satiate him, he needed more, yearning to drown between your thighs. His hands snaked their way around your thighs, pulling you down towards him as he pressed down on the rounds of your ass. The pressure on your clit eased the pain of desire and fed the flames of your orgasm that were dancing in your lower abdomen.

“Tommy!” you whimpered, pulling off of his cock just enough to be able to moan out his name, a warning that you were close and you knew that he was as well purely by the way he was humming into your cunt and how his cock was twitching in front of your face.

“Me too baby, let go” he assured, as you took his cock back into your mouth you felt the world shatter around you, the only real feeling was that of Tom’s tongue and his dick in your mouth, sliding in and out as you somehow managed to maintain the movement even through the mind bending pleasure. You both came hard, your juices being lapped up as Tom continued to relentlessly lick, your mouth filling with cum as hot white strings painted the inside of your mouth, the salty tang grounding you from slipping off into a pleasure induced haze.

Eventually you had both drained yourselves, no energy left in your euphoric bodies as you somehow ended up on the floor of the room. Your chin pressed into Tom’s pec as you looked up at him with largely dilated pupils and he looked back at you with the same.

“I don’t think we can work out together anymore, Tommy” you muttered, your fingers tracing indiscernible patterns across his heaving chest.

“What? Why?” Tom asked, his arms wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

“Well it never really ends up with us working out” you tried to remind him.

“But doesn’t it though? Cause I feel like I worked out and your legs are still shaking like you squatted 1000 pounds, so I actually think we should work out together more” Tom chuckled, pinching your side and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You are insatiable” you poked him back.

“And you like it”

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