#my other neighbor keeps his dog away and his dog is so well trained…sigh

[actualnymph]

got bit by a dog which is incredibly annoying

[pokedawriter]

The stairs creek under the weight of me and my suitcase as I struggle to haul the thing up the third flight of stairs. Curses leave my mouth faster than an extremely upset 'Karen', but I try to keep it at least somewhat under my breath in respect to my new neighbors. I finally manage to get the damn thing onto the next floor, as it and I fall over (me from exhaustion and my suitcase because it's missing a wheel).

"Fucking finally," I huff. "That's the last of them." After catching my breath, I kick the suitcase a few feet before just grabbing and dragging it. "Why doesn't this fuckin place have an elevator?"

A key turn later and I'm in my new place. I glance around. The wallpaper is stained and peeling in some places and dust covers the ground. "I'm gonna name this place the shit shack," I mumble. "But that's what you get for $355 a month." I move to the window and slide it open, the cool autumn air immediately pushing its way inside and blowing dust into my face.

*cough cough* "Fuck!" *cough* I back away until my cough goes away. "I should probably unpack," I sigh.

And then I didn't.

Instead, I opted to clean the shit shack. I had opened my duffle bag, intending to unpack, but I happened to see the feather duster, and I figured a bit of cleaning would hurt. Just a bit here, and a bit there in the living room. And I gotta get the kitchen clean, or else all my eating stuff will be dirty and thats gross. And is that some mold in the bathroom? Hell nah bro, get that outta here.

Only a knocking on the door finally broke me out of my focus mode. I stepped over my bags then kicked them backward to give the door room to open. A tall, pale, lanky man with sleaked hair stood there, a polite smile on his face. "Hello there, miss," he said.

"Hi?"

"I'm your neighbor. In 302," he stated, continuing to smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, uh," fuck, my brain is not ready to be social. "Cool. Nice to, uh, meet you too." A pause. "What brings you over?"

"Nothing really," he replied. Something was off about him. "I saw you moving in earlier this afternoon. Figured I'd give you a few hours before I'd come over and introduce myself."

What was is it? Oh! His smile! It didn't reach his eyes- wait... few hours? I looked at my watch. 8:34pm.

I had successfully not unpacked for 5 hours.

"Miss?"

"Huh? Oh, right. What did you say?"

"I was hoping I could come in for a bit and brew you some tea?"

In? Into my not unpacked apartment where all my stuff is still only 1 foot behind me? Fuck no. "Uh, sorry. I'm waking up early tomorrow so I don't have time for guests right now. Thanks, though. Have a nice night!" I close the door quickly, then slowly sink down against it. Fuuuuuuck."

At this point, I'm too tired to bother actually unpacking so I just shuffle through my bags until I find my blanket, bed sheets, and pj's. However, I remember as I open the door to my room, that it was the one place I hadn't finished yet. Double fuck. The couch it is.

The living room fan provided the only sound, a gentle whirring. I scrolled on my phone for a bit trying to remember my class schedule tomorrow. My mind drifted to the apartment. The outdoor handrails need to be secured more and paint could use a touch up. The outside walls could go for a power wash to get rid of the algae and some of the wood stairs are severely warped and need to be replaced. And-

A dog howling interrupted my thoughts. On one hand: excuse you, I'm trying and failing to sleep here. On the other hand: Pupper. I don't wanna be that guy, especially since I just moved in, so I try to ignore it. I'll talk to the landlord about stairs tomorrow. This place might be cheap, but I'm sure he'll at least fix the stairs.

…

"I ain't 'fixing' shit, cuz nothin needs fixing," the man huffed.

"But the stairs could be a potential hazard-"

"Enough of that," he glared at me. "What would you know about fixing anything anyways?"

"Well, I'm training to be a engineer-"

He laughed. "A woman like you? An engineer? Now that's funny."

His face sure does look punchable right now.

"If you really wanna 'fix' this place so much, passcode to the shed is 1582," he sneered. "You'll give up soon enough. You ain't able to handle a man's job."

Remember. Violence is not the answer. I wish it was right now though.

I gave my customer service smile and left, flipping him the bird in my head. I'll show that prick. This place might be a shit shack, but it's my shit shack now and I'm gonna prove him wrong.

I stomp towards the shed, enter the code and slam open the door… which promptly falls off. Fuck. Guess the door is first.

A quick check shows the hinges had rusted then snapped. It wasn't going to be long until this door fell anyways it seems. The door itself seems alright though. A quick fix then. I peruse the shed and eventually find a box full of hinges. Weird, but convenient. Soon the door is up once again.

Now that I think about it, the mail room door looks to be on its last legs too. Maybe it's hinges need to be replaced too, or they just need tightened. I take a tool box and the box of hinges and head over.

As I open the mailroom door, a voice shrieks.

"WHAT THE FUUUuuuuuuuudge," I nearly cuss. "Dude, what was that for?"

A little girl stares at me blankly. She's dressed up like one of those old creepy dolls, and she has too much blush on. She tilts her head. "Hello, are you my mummy?"

"Nope," I set the tool kit down and begin examining the door. This one is not as bad. Just tightening the screws will be enough then some WD-40 for any sounds that might have happened but I didn't hear cuz some little girl screamed.

"Are you my mummy?"

"Still nope," I begin fixing the door. I see her stare at me from the corner of my eyes.

"Would you like to be my dolly?"

"Nah, too many strings attached," I snicker at my own joke. I swing the door back and forth a bit. Yup, quite the squeak it's got. I start shaking the can.

"I want you to be my dolly," the little girl says. Has she blinked yet? Like damn. She could be the next Guinness World Record holder.

"Pass, but thanks," I yawn a bit. I'm so tired. Classes took a lot out of me today despite it only being day 1. I attach the tube to the can then spray the hinges.

"Let's play a game, dolly," the girl stares at me, her voice steady and monotonous. The room seems to be getting longer, but its probably a trick of the eyes since I'm not paying much attention. "I'll-"

I move the door back and forth. Silent as a sleeping baby. "Nice," I smile, then turn to the kid. "Sorry, what did you say?"

She looked at me awestruck. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make the door stop screaming?" She looked between me and the door.

"Oh, I just put some lubriiiiiii- greasy stuff on the hinges so that it moves easier," I explain, crouching to meet her at eye level. Her mom probably doesn't want her to know the word 'lubricant' just yet. "How old are you, kid?"

She stated at the door hinges. "I'm 276 this year."

This kid must have just learned her big numbers. I laugh. "You must be very old and wise then." I poke her forehead and she looks at me now. "Kiddo, you gotta blink. It's not good for your eyes if you don't."

She stares at me. I blink at her. She blinks back. "Good!" I smile. "Are you here getting mail for your parents?"

The girl blinks again.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Anna," she mumbles.

"Nice name," I smile at her. "Do you want me to walk you back to your apartment?"

Anna stares at me and I sigh. "I'll be right back. Stay here." I run back to the shed and drop off the boxes, then rush back. Luckily, she's still there. I extend my hand to her. "Come on. Let's get you home."

"It was nice meeting you, Anna," I give her a wave. She waves back then closes the door.

She takes my hand and we eventually make it to (what I'm guessing) is her apartment, 203. Anna stands on her tiptoes to unlock the door then quickly enters and hides behind it.

Guess kids can be cute sometimes.

(I'll add more later)

… wait, have I eaten today?

You move into a suspiciously low rent apartment, that’s in some disrepair but not enough to account for the price. It turns out the other occupants are all evil supernatural beings. They set out to torment you, but then discover that you have done more to repair the building than the landlords.

[bubbleteaimagines]

Calling him by his last name prank (HQ Boys)

Haikyuu Boys Headcanon

KUROO TETSURO

“Did you have fun at your practice match today, Kuroo-San?”

He’s petty. He’s straight up petty when you call him by his last name, pretending not hear you even though you clearly asked him a question. Kuroo sits and looks out the train window for a while as you try again, trying desperately to hold in your laugh due to your boyfriend’s cold demeanor.

“...Kuroo? Did you hear me?”

Silence, again. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as he bites his lip, twitching in annoyance as you try again.

“Kuroo-”

“I don’t know any ‘Kuroo.’ All I know is baby or Tetsu,” He finally snaps, scoffing and looking at you as if to say ‘unbelievable.’ You can tell he’s playing it cool, but his eyes give away the fact that he’s actually quite hurt- and so does the subtle pout on his lips.

You almost coo as you see your boyfriend acting all grumpy at the use of his last name, immediately giggling and leaning in to hug him despite his protests.

“Y/N, don’t-”

“Awe baby, I was just messing around with you! No need to get all pouty and sassy Tetsu,” You laugh, snuggling into his side.

Kuroo finally stops resisting whenever you say these words, his shoulders instantly relaxing knowing you weren’t mad at him or anything. However, he can’t help but feel slightly even more upset because he genuinely fell for it.

“Yeah, well,” He pretends to wave you off, acting all tough as he looks out the window again. “I knew that.”

“Oh Tetsu-” You grin at his obviously pouting figure and shake your head, “I’m sure you did honey. I’m sure you did.”

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

BOKUTO KOUTARO

“Bokuto, can you come help me move this please?”

At the sound of his last name, Bokuto instantly deflates and starts pouting the minute it sets in. I mean, he doesn’t even give you time to correct your mistake before he’s storming into your room, arms crossed and lips jutted out.

“What did you just say?”

“I said: Bokuto can you come help me move this? It’s really heavy,” You pout up at him only to find your boyfriend is doing the same, his nose scrunched up as his shoulders sagged.

So, it wasn’t a mistake. You actually meant to call him that.

“...Okay.”

There’s an obvious sadness in his voice as he slowly moves to help you, uncharacteristically quiet. The entire time he keeps glancing at you with those big eyes, pleading for you to call him something else. But no- you stick to it and once he’s done helping you, you lean up and give him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Bokuto. You’re always so helpful,” You praise him, but it seems to do nothing for his sudden sour mood. Grumbling, he hastily nods and then walks out of the room, a smile appearing on your face as you hear him muttering to himself.

“...Bokuto? Did I do something? Is that why Y/N’s calling me that?”

You follow him a few minutes later and find him on the couch, hugging his knees as he barely pays attention to the TV. He tenses up when you sit beside him, eyes hesitantly glancing at you. He figures that now is when you’re gonna confront him- tell him what he’s done wrong for you to call him Bokuto and not Kou or baby, but instead-

You’re smiling.

“What’s gotten you in such pouty mood, Bokuto?” You ask him, as if you didn’t already know. But you’re waiting for him to break, which looks like it’s gonna be any second if you call him that once more time.

“Baby,” He looks at you as if to say ‘seriously?’ and then hugs his knees closer. “We’ve been dating for too long for you to keep calling me that.”

“What- Bokuto?” You act shocked and Bokuto flinches but sighs.

“Yes. That.”

“But- it’s your name, is it not?”

“Yeah but not the one you should be using,” He suddenly whines, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. “I mean... what happened to Kou? I thought you said I was your baby owl.”

He looks away with all small blush on his cheeks and you decide you can’t take it anymore. Walking over to him, you gently sat down in his lap and pulled him in for hug, planting a loving kiss on his lips before confessing.

“Kou, baby, it was just prank,” You grin, reassuring him, and you feel his mood shift instantly. Bokuto lifts his head up and searches your face for any lies, but once he sees your grin he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

“You mean it?” He asks seriously and you nod frantically.

“Of course baby. I’m sorry I upset you,” You apologize, and you swear that you can actually see his hair start to stand up again. While you’re hugging him and apologizing with an endless amount of kisses, Bokuto is chuckling and then he’s back to himself once again.

“I have to admit, you had me pretty good there,” He told you, impressed. You smiled.

“Really? You know usually my pranks don’t work but-”

Bokuto narrowed his eyes. “Ahem. You didn’t let me finish, sweetheart,” He smirked, adjusting you on his lap. “You got me pretty good, yes, but now that just means...I’m gonna get you back even better.”

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

“Sakusa have you read that book I lent you? How did you like it?”

At first, your boyfriend isn’t really sure if you’re talking to him, even though you called his name. But after a few seconds, your words settle in and Sakusa looks over at you to see that you’re staring at him expectantly from the other end of the couch, not at all phased over what you just said.

“It was...good?” It comes out more of a question as he shifts a little uncomfortably, sitting up a little straighter while he continues to stare at you.

“Oh? Just good huh?” You raise an eyebrow and decide to bait him a little more, since his initial reaction didn’t really show anything. “Maybe I should show you some of my notes, Sakusa. You could dig a little deeper- there’s a lot to uncover in those books.”

“...Yeah.”

So it wasn’t an accident. Once again, Sakusa looks over at you but you’re showing no signs of being mad or irritated at him. So then- why did you call his last name- twice?

“Sakusa?” You notice he’s staring and do everything you can to hide your smirk, feigning curiosity as you tilt your head. “Something wrong? Why do you keep staring at me like that?”

It takes a few seconds for him to respond, a small scoff leaving his lips as he does so, but nevertheless Sakusa sits back on the couch and gives you a quiet, “It’s Omi,” while not being able to look you in the eyes.

“...I’m sorry? What was that?”

“I said it’s Omi,” He clears his throat and speaks a little louder, lifting his head just enough to see the little blush on his face. You nearly melt. “You just...you called me Sakusa three times in a row. That’s not my name. To you...it’s Omi. You always call me that.”

You feel like literally awing as your boyfriend shifts shyly, finally admitting that he does like being called that. Not being able to contain your excitement, you squeal and quickly crawl your way over to him, planting yourself in his lap and giving him a sweet kiss.

“Awe, you mean it Omi? I thought you said you didn’t like it when I called you that.”

“Yeah, well,” His cheeks go a shade darker and you can’t stop yourself from grinning at his adorableness. You can tell it took a lot for him to admit it so you decide not to tease him, instead peppering his face with kisses and giggling.

“Well, if it bothers you that much then I’ll stick to calling you Omi. I promise,” You beam at him and Sakusa reluctantly takes your outstretched pinky, intertwining it with his own before brining your hands up and kissing yours.

“Good. You better,” He chuckles. “And...”

“I know, I know. Not a single word to the boys about this.”

“Correct.”

“....”

- “Not even Hinata?”

“Y/N!”

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

MIYA ATSUMU

“Miya-”

“Oh shit.”

The word isn’t even fully out of your lips before Atsumu is freezing up, pausing the movie to look at your surprised face frantically. He instantly turns his body towards you, an apologetic look on his face before you can even blink.

“Babe- whatever yer about to say, I can explain.”

“Miya, what the hell are you talking about?”

You sit up straight and face his panicking figure, genuinely confused by his behavior. “All I said was-”

“Miya. Ya never call me that unless I’m in trouble,” Atsumu says, and while he’s not wrong you’re beginning to wonder why exactly he was freaking out so much.

“Okay...but if I just said it as a prank...and you’re acting this way...” You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “Atsumu, is there anything you wanna tell me?”

He’s visibly nervous as he looks at you, sweat beginning to break on his face. He darts his eyes from you, to his phone, and then back to you, silently contemplating on whether or not he should tell the truth.

“Okay,” Atsumu decides to clear his conscious and finally come clean, hesitantly picking up his phone and unlocking it. “So...ya remember that um, stuff, ya had like three weeks ago? That went missing?”

You paused. “...You mean all of my Yakisoba that you swore you had nothing to do with?”

Atsumu gulped. “Look- babe- I’m not trying to make excuses, okay? But ya gotta understand that I’m a big guy and sometimes when I come home from practice I’m just so hungry that I- AH!”

“You asshat!”

Atsumu is cut off from his confession when you suddenly lunge at him, grabbing a pillow to smack his face as you straddle him and pin him down. “You told me that the damn neighbors dog ate it, Atsumu! Had me all worried at the vet, wondering if they were gonna sue us-”

“Okay, that is an exaggeration, they didn’t even find anythin’-”

“Well yeah! That’s cause you ate it asshole!” Atsumu yelps as you land a practically good blow and quickly grabs your waist to flip you over and reverse the roles.

Now, you’re the one under him, glaring at his sheepish face as he pins your wrists.

“Alright alright! ‘M sorry, okay?! But I was really hungry and yer were bein stingy with yer food-!”

“Stingy-?!” You gasped at his audacity. “Tsumu, I damn near gave you half before you devoured the rest!”

“Well I was a hungry, okay?! Yer can’t blame a man for eatin,” He said, and you huffed as you stared into his clearly non-regretful eyes.

“Oh, I sure can!” You narrow your eyes at him, “You’re gonna replace my Yakisoba as soon as you let me go! And, you’re gonna bake me some brownies, too!”

“I- what- brownies?!”

“Yes! With sprinkles on top!” You shout.

“Sprinkles?! That doesn’t even go together!” Atsumu cried.

“So? You ate my food, Atsumu! And if you want this relationship to survive, you’ll listen carefully and do exactly as I say.”

Later that night, you munched happily on your sprinkle-covered brownies while Atsumu stared bitterly at the finished Yakisoba in front of you. His ramen noodles sat unfinished and cold in front of him, a punishment and a reminder that you never, ever ever steal food from Y/N.

And he definitely learned his lesson.

[cayofdreams]

12 Nights of XXXMAS | Day 1: Breeding

Fit for a Princess

Pro-Hero!Deku x Reader

Summary: Upset at your fiance for not being able to come home on time for Christmas Eve, he makes it up to you with a gift only the likes of you could adorn. But now it’s time to fill your princess duties...

Words: 4.6k

Warnings/Tags: mirror sex, breeding, overstimulation, a dash of dumbification

Notes: uhh this was supposed to be like 2k words but then libido existed. Tagging @butterscotchbaku​ because their dom deku supremacy rhetoric has corrupted into my brain cells.

The view of the wintery outside was marvelous from your window. The snow painted the scenery a shimmering white, the various Christmas decorations adorning neighbor’s homes could place you directly into a wonderland, and the kids giggling and playing as they made snow angels under the street lights created the perfect picture of innocence.

Inside your home wasn’t bad either. The fire cracking at the fireplace sounded tranquil for your auditory senses, the Christmas tree in the living room gave you peaceful nostalgia from your childhood, and the smell of the sugar cookies baking in the oven was comparable to a candle from the most luxurious of department stores.

And yet, you were upset.

Or perhaps anger is the more fitting emotion dwelling over you currently. Your lover and recent fiancé, Midoriya Izuku was currently not treating you like the winter princess you deserved to be treated as. At this moment he was out doing patrols and other related hero work instead of tending to your very important needs.

What was even the point of doing all that work if his so-called ‘love of his life’ was sad, frustrated, and alone? It was easy for you to take the holidays off, granted you weren’t the #1 hero, but even still, your fiancé being in such high stature should make it easier to take days like this off, right? Surely, he was doing this to get back at you for something. After-all, he said he’d definitely be home by 4 p.m., and yet here it is closing in at 8:25 p.m, and you’ve yet to see even a text message from the man.

You even went out to get his specially crafted gift this morning so that he’d have something to look forward to on Christmas. And now you were regretting that.  He didn’t deserve anything special from you after pulling a no-show on his own fiancé on Christmas Eve.

*brrrring!* *brrrring!*

“Arf! Arf! Arf!”

The sound of the timer going off alerted you of the cookies being done and temporarily brought you out of your pity session. It also alerted you and Midoriya’s one-year old puppy who was always so excited to hear when it seemed food was ready.

“Calm down, Mighty. You can’t have sugar cookies, remember? They aren’t good for you.”

Quickly wrapping an apron around your waist, you tucked on the oven mitt and carefully placed the cookies from the oven to the kitchen counter.

“Arf! Arf!”

“You are so needy, aren’t you? You look like Izu but you have my personality.” You reached into the cabinet above you to grab the dog treats you stored away. Grabbing two of the biscuits, you bent down to hand them to your puppy. “Here baby, you can have these.”

Satisfied with how happily little Mighty was chopping on the treats, you decided to wait for your own treats to cool before decorating them. Going to sit down on the couch, you grabbed the remote to flick on the television, an attempt at distracting yourself from current frustrations.

A bad decision considering everything broadcasted now seemed to deal with lovers and families coming together for the holidays. The cheery smiles and rosy cheeks on the actors’ faces made you burn with jealousy as you sat fiancé-less in your home.

“Jake! You actually…you actually came back to me for the holidays!”

“Of course, I did Katherine. I wouldn’t miss spending Christmas with you for the world.”

You sucked your teeth at the overly-dramatic displays of affection, deciding to turn off the T.V. all together. Rubbing your fingers along the bridge of your nose, it seemed even Mighty took pity on you, as he jumped on the couch to snuggle his little body into yours. Picking him up and cuddling him into your chest, you fantasized about your fiancé walking through those doors. How he’d pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, peppering kissing along your face and telling you how-

*clink!*

The sound of the door unlocking made your heart jump and Mighty to jump from your arms to run to the door, barking in excitement at who’d soon walk through.

“Heheh~ Hello little Mighty. Did you take care of Y/N while I was gone?”

“Arf! Arf! Arf!”

His tail wagged enthusiastically as Midoriya bent down to rub all around his ears. “You did? Such a good boy.” Standing back up, he looked at your figure still sitting on the couch, arms folded and lips formed into a pout. “I’m sorry I’m late, baby. Some things came up on the way home.” Putting down his gear by the door, he walked into the kitchen, immediately in amazement at the cookies you seemed to bake for him. “You made cookies? They smell so good, can we eat them now?”

Standing up, you hastily walked to the kitchen, grabbing away the pan of cookies before Midoriya could grab one. “No. They aren’t for you.” You placed the pan on the farther end on the kitchen counter, further symbolizing your statement.

Midoriya let out a small giggle, finding a bit of amusement in your bratty displays. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you into him before squeezing you into a tight hug from behind. “That’s okay, you look and smell much better than those cookies anyways.” He attempted to kiss you on the cheek, but you moved your head away with a click of the tongue. “Plus, you look so delicious in that apron. I never get to see you look so much like a little housewife.”

You forcefully pulled yourself away from Midoriya’s embrace before placing folded arms once again under your breasts. “Well I’m not a housewife. Or a wife, it seems.”

Finding your comment to hit a bit below the waist, he furrowed his eyebrows at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You huffed out a puff of air, standing there briefly before brushing past him out of the kitchen. “Y/N!” Ignoring his calls, you entered the bedroom and Midoriya heard the loud shut of the door.

Deciding to give you time to calm down, Midoriya let you be as he stripped down to hop in the shower. As the hot water beat down his back, he thought about how to best analyze his current dilemma with you. He was no stranger to your more rebellious attitudes, but it seemed today you were actually pissed at him. And he could admit that you had reason to be.

This was the first holiday that the two of you were to spend together since becoming engaged. You even baked cookies for him. Wearing an apron at that. Given the amount of work you had piled up yourself throughout the year, you never really had the time to show such cute displays of love. You were probably even excited to have a couple days to play a cute housewife for him, and to you, he probably ruined that by not being home for half the day.

But you needed to understand as well. That given his position in society he couldn’t just take days off no matter how special the occasion. It didn’t matter how much previous overtime he worked, or how many villains he’d catch. It didn’t matter how badly he wanted to be home with you. How badly he wanted to have you curled up in his arms, sitting by the fireplace while munching on cookies very much outside the both of yours’ diet. He wanted that just as much as you did, but what he wanted even more was to be a hero. To be your hero. And it’d take sacrifices from the both of you to continue to be that.

As Midoriya stepped out of the shower, he dried himself off with one of the fancy towels you must have recently decorated the bathroom with for the holidays. Chuckling to himself, he put on a pair of pajama pants and went to retrieve a bag that he left under his gear. As he opened the door to the master bedroom, he was met with your curled up back, the light of the phone screen illuminating your side profile.

“You know…it’s still just Christmas Eve, babe.” Midoriya approached the side of the bed, placing the small gift bag on the dresser. “We still have Christmas to spend with each other.”

Continuing to face away from him, you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. “Christmas Eve has the word ‘Christmas’ in it. So that makes it Christmas. Which means you missed Christmas, Izuku.”

“Don’t be like that, Y/N. You’re a hero yourself, so you know how demanding this life is.”

“I-…I know. I just- I just wore something so special today and it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Wore?

“Doesn’t matter anymore? There’s still a couple hours of Christmas Eve, Y/N.” His words seemed to fall on deafened ears as you stayed silently scrolling on your phone. Sighing, Midoriya pulled out a long black box from the gift bag and held it in his hand. “So, you don’t want your Christmas present?”

His lips curled into a smile at how your head perked up from the mention of a gift. “I was going to wait until the Christmas that is tomorrow but since you’re so upset, I’ll give it to you tonight.” Despite a stern exterior, Midoriya truly thought you were like a puppy. So whiney and mean until you got the treat you felt like you earned. Well today was training day.

“You got me a gift, Izu?” You straightened up to sit on the edge of the bed, curious eyes falling from his shirtless physique to the long black box in his hand. The velvety material informed you that this was no ordinary gift. “What is it?”

“Something only fit for a princess.” Your lips started to match Midoriya’s curled ones as you jumped up and got closer to him. Your hand started to reach for the box before he held away from your reach.

“I said only fit for a princess.���

“I- I am a princess! C’mon let me see it~!”

“I don’t know, Y/N. You didn’t even share any cookies with me…”

“They’re your cookies! All of them! Lemme see, lemme see!”

Midoriya continued to keep the box from your reach, finding your switching between excitement and pouting to be cute. “You said you wore something special, right? And as beautiful as you look in those pajamas, I’m sure that’s not what you were referring to.”

You fiddled with the first button on your top, your facial expression becoming more flustered. “But…I’ve been wearing it for some hours now. I probably wore out that new feel to it…”

“Good. It probably matches your smell now.”

After hesitating for a brief period, you finally undid the first button, slowly continuing to undress yourself. Midoriya watched with a quiet gaze, still clutching onto the box in hand. After unbuttoning the top, you slipped off your pajama pants before sliding off the top, fully revealing your gift to him.

“Wow…” You were wearing a dark green lingerie, specially made in order to hug you in all the right areas. Midoriya could tell by the side cut-outs on your stomach that it was designed to mimic his hero-costume. The lacy garter and its belt accentuated your waist and thighs even more than they naturally did on their own.

But the perfect icing on the cookie was simply your face. The way that even the dim bedroom light seemed to make your e/c eyes glimmer in illumination. How your pouty lips formed the perfect bow. And best of all, how despite that pout, you still seemed to look innocent to him. Most days you looked more sexy or daring. But tonight, despite such erotic attire, to Midoriya you never looked more cute.

“Do you like it…?”

Midoriya put the box down on the vanity, meeting your reply with rough hands that massaged all around your body. The little whimpers that left your lips as he squeezed softly at your laced breasts sounded like carols in his ears. “You really are a princess,… princess.”

“T-That’s what I said. Can I have my gift now…my green-haired prince?”

Midoriya chuckled as he guided you by the waist to stand directly in front of the vanity’s mirror. He hands continued to roam and squeeze around your body as he looked at your reflection. “My princess can have whatever she wants. Just let me see all of you, baby.”

You slowly took the box in your hand, firstly inspecting the exterior. The velvet felt so soft in your hands, a savory compliment with the rough caresses from your fiancé. Carefully opening it, the shimmering of the contents greeted your eyes as Midoriya’s lips greeted the tenderness of your neck.

It was a headband. But not just any headband. An elegant one; fully decorated in the most precious of diamonds. You even recognized the rare diamond cut as being the same kind as the one adorning your ring finger currently. The shine of its beauty bouncing off the dim lamp’s light brought a tear to your eye.

“I figured since you’re my princess, you deserved the finest of crowns.” Midoriya’s hands slipped down your arms to cradle your hands that were clutching tightly on the velvet box. “Should I crown you?”

You silently nodded, wiping a stray tear that streamed down your cheek. Looking into the mirror, you saw your fiancé once again embellish you with diamonds. The bejeweled headband seated snuggly around your head, you couldn’t help but feel like you were truly wearing a crown. “It’s so beautiful, Izuku…” Your eyes shifted to Midoriya’s, who was looking at your reflection with the merriest of smiles.

He pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder before looking back at you. “Only because you’re wearing it, princess.” His hands slid down to your waist, squeezing at your laced flesh. “I think it’s only right for you to do your princess duties now, Y/N.”

You shifted your head sideways to side-eye your fiancé quizzingly. “What do you mean? What duties?”

Midoriya kissed your neck once more as he slid one hand over your lacy garter, into your panties. He slowly rolled his fingers around your folds, pleased with how you were already a little wet for him. He could thank your materialism for that. “It’s only right for you to make an heir.”

“N-No way…”

“You don’t want children with me, Y/N?”

Midoriya’s question rang through your ear as his fingers slickly circled your clit. “You want children with me?”

You felt a puff of air hit your skin as Midoriya softly chuckled at your question. “Well…It’d be a lie to say I haven’t thought of filling you up with puppies. And tonight-“ Midoriya slipped a finger inside your pussy, curving it to graze right against your g-spot. “You looked so damn cute in that apron. If I were home to see you baking cookies in that, you’d already be plump with my future children.”

Midoriya slipped another finger inside, using the pad of his hand to continue stimulating your throbbed clit. “Izu~!” His other hand slithered up to your breast, squeezing and twisting at your nipple from outside its lacy barrier.

“Look at yourself, princess.” Your eyes that had drifted to the vanity’s surface aligned back at their reflection. The headband atop your head shimmered beautifully through the mirror. “Imagine how stretched out that garter will get when your tummy swells with my kid.”

A sinful moan escaped you, the thought of having Midoriya’s children starting to lustily plague your mind. As he continued playing with your sponge like an instrument, you felt your stomach bulge with an oncoming orgasm. “I-Izuku~ ! Gonna cum!” And right on queue it seemed, Midoriya had quickly slipped his fingers out of you, your whine sounding as beautiful as your crown.

“Not yet, Y/N. I researched that its better to cum closer to when a person’s semen is ejaculating inside the womb. It increases chances of impregnation.”

Catching your breath from your failed orgasm, you bent down so your face hovered over the vanity’s surface. With your back elegantly arched, your ass pressed against the hardness of Midoriya’s cock that stood proudly inside his pajama pants. Reaching your hand behind you, you slipped your fingers under the crotch of your panties, pulling them to the side. Your puffy lips looked so soft, and your drenched hole seemed to wait achingly for your fiancé to fill it. “T-Then ejaculate, you nerd~”.  

Licking his lips, Midoriya freed his cock from his pants, giving it a couple jerks as he admired the view of your pussy. Noticing some of your juices were drooling onto the floor, he placed the head of his cock under you, collecting your leaking before rubbing along your folds. He teased you by poking the tip at your clit, relishing in your whine-filled moans that reverberated in his ears. “My princess is so fucking gorgeous.” He slipped the tip in, your entrance now hugging him tightly around the head. “Gonna look even more gorgeous with my child taking up all the room in that tummy.”

As he sunk his cock in, the stinging stretch of it made you impulsively tighten your walls even more around him. “Oh my god- Izuku~!” There was never a time where the thickness of Midoriya’s cock didn’t take you by a slightly painful surprise. When he was half-way in, he paused to check in after your thighs started to quiver. He noticed your lull in breathing as you held your breath in.

“Breathe, baby.” He reached his hand around your thigh to twiddle with your clit. “You need a little help? Don’t worry.” You nodded, succumbing to the onslaught of pleasure brought on by Midoriya’s fingers. “You always struggle to take my cock at first.” The sounds of your moans filled the bedroom as your stretched pussy relaxed around his cock. “But then you end up taking me- “. Feeling you grow slicker with each flick at your clit, Midoriya slowly sunk the entirety of his cock inside you. “-All the way to the hilt.”

His balls softly slapped against your clit and your walls twitched around him. With fingernails scratching against the surface, you looked behind you to meet his lustful green eyes. “You- You’re all the way in?”

He replied with a chuckle before bringing his hand toward your face, squishing your cheeks tenderly between his fingers. “That’s right. Look-“ Guiding your face to look back into the mirror, he started to gently thrust inside you. “Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. My cock fits so snug inside my princess.”

“Ohh shit~ Izuku-!” Midoriya’s increased his pace, his cock seeming to grow even more at how your silky pussy hugged around him. “You’re getting biggerrr~! Feels good!” You started to jerk your hips back to meet his thrusts, now balancing yourself on your forearms that rested on the vanity.

“Are you going to cum? Going to get your womb nice and ready for me?” Midoriya wrapped his scarred hands around the sides of your waist, squishing hard enough for your fat to plunge through his fingers. “Keep looking at your beautiful face in the mirror, Y/N. I want to see and hear you call my name when you cum.”

Midoriya pumped his cock vigilantly inside you while your pussy fluttered pleasingly around him. You looked at yourself in the mirror, in awe at how drunkenly you had become for him. The elegant band that was fit on your head was practically a juxtaposition against your lecherous facial expressions. Your mouth gaped open for delirious moans to pour out, while saliva drooled down your chin onto the vanity. Certainly no proper look for a princess you thought.

As the head of Midoriya’s cock plunged against your spongy sweet spot, your hands gripped at the edge of the vanity, desperate for stability. “Izukuuu…~”

“Go ahead, princess. Please cum for me.”

You tried to keep looking at your reflection but your eyes drifted to the back of your head as the pressure of your orgasm swelled inside your core. “I’m cumming~! Izuku! I’m cumming~!”

The feeling of your pussy convulsing around Midoriya’s cock made him grunt as he reached his own orgasm. His fingernails dug into your flesh, almost breaking skin while his thrusts became more jerky and erratic. “Fuck! Y/N- You feel so good-! Gonna cum inside you-!”

You felt the warm thickness of his cum filling you inside, his cock pulsating with every spurt. He slowly slid in and out of you as he calmed down and his grip around your waist softened. Regaining his breath, he slipped completely out of you, a bit of his cum dripping out as well. He slipped his hands under your chest to stand you up before gently gripping you behind the neck to pull you into a kiss.

The kiss was sloppy and wet as you were too in-the-clouds to pay attention where you moved your tongue. You simply whined as he sucked on the pink muscle, gripping on his bicep to maintain your balance. Midoriya lapped up the drool from your chin before licking at the inside of your mouth again.

Finally separating his lips from yours, he gave a squeeze to your ass before pushing you down on the bed. “Are you ready to be bred, princess?” He cradled his hands under your knees, pushing them up to be positioned by your breasts.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused at his question. “B-But you just came. You came inside…”

He chuckled as he rubbed the tip of cock along your folds, gathering up the drooly mix of your juices and his seeped cum. “You didn’t think one time would be enough, did you? We have to make sure you get completely filled up, Y/N. Otherwise the chances of you getting pregnant won’t be so high.”

He sunk his cock inside of you again, the new mating-like position making it so his cock aimed directly against your now tender g-spot. The oversensitivity of it make you whine loudly as your hands reactively came up to press against his abs, attempting to slow him down. “Its-! Its too sensitive right now-! Wait a second~”

Midoriya shushed you as he took one of your hands in his, placing it beside your head as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Ssshh…You’re not supposed to be bratty anymore, remember?” His balls pressed against your ass as he filled you once more all the way to the hilt. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix made a high-pitched moan leave your lips. “You took it so well before, so just do it one more time, okay?”

His hips grinded against yours as he took slow and deep thrusts inside your pussy. The feeling would have been sensual if it wasn’t for your current high levels of sensitivity. You could feel the head of his cock glide against each rib of your pussy’s walls before softly poking your cervix. The fingers that were entangled with your fiancé’s tightened with each thrust. “M-My cervix~ Too fucking big~”

Midoriya leaned down to press delicate kisses around your face, admiring how your moans were now sent directly into his ear. “I’ll be careful, okay? I can move how I want as long as I don’t hit it, right?” You nodded, a bit nervous at the foreshadowing question.

Midoriya straightened his torso, his hands finding their place back on your thighs as he put all nearly all his weight on you. Taking his cock almost entirely out of you, he quickly submerged it back inside, making sure to stop before he hit your wall. Although not reaching your cervix, he still made sure to properly grind against your g-spot, making your pussy even soppier than before.

His cock plummeting in and out of your pussy made squelching noises as the creamy mixture of your fluids spurt out on your thighs. Your hands wrapped around his forearms, fingernails scratching against the flesh. Your breathing became harsh pants as your tongue lolled out from between your lips. You feel yourself about to reach another orgasm and the throbbing of Midoriya’s cock told you he was at the same state.

“You-You’re gonna make me cum again~!”

“Me too, Princess. Are you going to take more of my cum?”

Nodding profusely, you focused on the growing bulge inside your stomach. “Y-Yeahh~!!” Bringing your hands up to his muscled shoulders, you looked euphorically into his green eyes. “Kiss me! Please~!”

Without any hesitation, Midoriya leaned down chest-to-chest, sloshing his tongue with yours. Saliva trailed down your cheeks as you mingled your fingers in his curly locks. His cock now hitting you in deeper places, your pleasure would override the kissing at your cervix. As you came around his cock, you felt once again the hot spills of Midoriya’s semen filling your womb. You moaned whinefully into his mouth as he continued to slowly thrust into you. The lubrication of his cum making his strokes slicker.

Ending the kiss, Midoriya wrapped his arms around your back, cupping your body into him as he started to pound into your pussy once more. The pleasurable feeling was too intense, making you barely able to think anymore. “F-Fuughh~!! Ijhuku!!”

“Just one more time, princess. Okay?” His thrusts now shallow and deep, you became lost in delirium as his cock relentlessly plundered into your pussy. “Wow, look- You’re feeling good even when I’m hitting your cervix, aren’t you? Taking me this deep- You’re going to be so full of my kids.”  

“I-Ijhukuz babieess~!!”

“Heh~ If only we were still by the mirror, you could see how you look right now, all drunk from my cum.” He reached his thumb down circle at your clit, making your pussy clench around him in reaction. “Gosh, can you hear how mushy you are, princess? You’re so fucking soft inside. So perfect for me.”

“Guh-Guhmming~!!” Desperate to seek a break from the continuous pounding against your overstimulated sponge, you squirmed your hips around, pushing your hands against Midoriya’s shoulders in attempt to escape his grasp.

“Just hold still, okay? I’m- I’m almost there-“ Grunting behind gritted teeth, he wrapped his powerful arms around your head to further lock you in place.

“Haaahh~! Ijhuuu-!” Your thighs quaked intensively at Midoriya’s more rapid and deep thrusts as he chased his final orgasm. Pitchy and incoherent babbles filled his ears, further gratifying his desires. “Y-Yur cumm~ Sho full-! Sho full of- Ijhukuz cum~! Sho muchh~!”

“Oh fuck, princess. Your pussy and voice- Fuck! So cute-!” Midoriya’s pants became erratic and gaspy as his cock throbbed inside you. With a couple of longer and harsher strokes he finally released the last of his load inside your womb, a bit of it seeping out onto the bed from there not being much room for more.  

Without slipping out of you, Midoriya straightened his back, smiling while he looked at your blissed-out face. He maneuvered your leg to the other side of his hip so that you’d be rested on your side. Laying down with his chest against your back, his hands caressed the area below your stomach, admiring how plump it became with his cum.

“I can’t wait to see how you beautiful you look in the next few months…” Peering at your side profile, he noticed you were deep in slumber. Pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, he gave a couple of gentle strokes, as if verifying that his cum was properly preserved inside you. Satisfied, he cradled his arm under your head, continuing to stroke your stomach lovingly as he closed his eyes.

“But we’ll have fun until then won’t we, princess?”

Taglist (if your name is unlinked, I was unable to tag): @bnha-free-writing​ @amelietheslut @waifutiddies

[btsrunmylife]

In The Dog House (a one shot)

Word Count: 4,628

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Smut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Seokjin x f!Reader

Summary: You truly, truly hate your neighbor. He’s loud, distracting, and he spoils your dog. What will happen when you finally confront him???

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex (be safe, friends), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, slight degradation (maybe?), and hints of voyeurism if you squint.

Cross-posted to AO3.

It’s happening again. 

You groan and roll off the couch, heading toward the backdoor of your little, rented townhouse. You push aside the curtain to peer out at the backyard, where you have a small fence set up for your Lhasa Apso Pomeranian mix to run around. At the moment, she’s yipping and hopping at the edge of the fence, tail wagging and body wiggling with all her might to get your neighbor’s attention.

Your neighbor.

Truly, your dog’s behavior is all his fault. Normally so quiet and well-behaved after years of training, Nari’s good manners fly out the window the second she sees him.

You wish you could say it’s because your dog is overly friendly, but while that’s true, it’s not the reason she gets so excited. No, that would be because of the bag of treats your neighbor keeps hidden on his back porch.

He doesn’t even own a dog.

Your eyes narrow when you see the man loping toward your yard, said bag of treats in hand. A part of you was touched the first few times he’d given your little angel a treat. You fully believe, as any pet owner would, that she deserves the world. However, this little thing has become a routine. One that has spoiled your little pup into thinking every stranger is going to poof a bag of treats out of thin air for her.

To be frank, it completely ruined her training, and her incessant barking every time she goes outside is grating on your nerves

So, you do the only logical thing there is -- you stare broodingly out the window every time he feeds them to her, hoping he can feel the hatred you have for him prickling at his skin. 

Of course, that never happens. As powerful as you’d like to believe you are, you can’t shoot daggers out of your eyes or breathe fire out your nostrils. 

And he certainly can’t read your mind.

If he could, he would have stopped giving your dog treats after the seventh time it’d happened.

He also probably would have been blushing profusely every time you imagined his handsome face between your thighs.

You wonder if he would act on it if he knew, but you banish the thought as it comes. He’s your neighbor. An annoying one at that.

You sigh in relief when he finally turns to leave -- but not before giving Nari a final scratch between the ears.

Your first mistake is opening the door to call for your dog before your neighbor’s safely in his house. The second is freezing when he turns around to smile at you and wave.

You don’t respond for a good few moments, continuing to stare even as Nari’s soft fur is brushing past your ankles on her way inside. When your neighbor’s eyebrows start to furrow in confusion, you clear your throat and lift a hand in greeting before adamantly slamming your door shut.

Like you said.

So annoying.

*~*~*

Annoying and stupid, that’s what your neighbor is.

A few days later, you open the back door to let Nari out and, suddenly, she’s going absolutely crazy. You peer outside, wondering what the hell has gotten into her, when you notice what’s got her so hyped up.

There’s a whole bag of treats in your sweet, little baby’s pen.

A whole bag.

Why?

Scowling, you stomp over to the far side of the fence, closest to your neighbor’s yard, and snatch the bag off the ground before Nari can successfully tear into it. You glare at the back door of his home, which is clearly dark and empty.

Of course, you know this is probably some sort of kind gesture, but seriously? Who throws an entire bag of treats into someone’s yard? Not only would it be catastrophic if Nari ate the entire thing in one go, but what if some sort of animal had gotten into the fence?

What if the smell attracted other dogs?

The possibilities are endless and you really can’t help but wonder what goes on in your neighbor’s ridiculously (and admittedly attractive) thick head.

And what did he think? That you couldn’t afford to buy your dog treats?

With Nari jumping at the bag in your arms, you stomp your way back into your house and slam the door behind you, adamant about giving your neighbor a piece of your mind the next time you see him.

This shit has got to stop.

*~*~*

It stops. The treat giving gloriously, gloriously stops.

The spoiling of your little baby, however, does not.

A few days later, when you walk outside to let your little Nari in, you spot not one, but six tennis balls of various sizes in her pen.

And, of course, she’s going right to town on one of them

It squeaks.

And when you let Nari inside, the ball she brings in with her and refuses to put down continues to squeak.

All. Night. Long.

You’re going to kill your neighbor.

You’ve, quite honestly, had enough! Why is he so hellbent on spoiling your dog anyway? If he loves dogs so much, he should get one of his own! Clearly he knows what they like!

Groaning after your very long, very sleepless night, you trudge over toward the coffee pot and get it going before letting Nari outside. Your eyes widen when you see your neighbor in his yard, doing some sort of yoga routine that he’s supremely bad at. 

You quirk your head, eyes trained on his uncoordinated movements. His sense of balance isn’t terrible, but…yeah, that’s not how you do a downward dog…or a warrior pose. He’s very likely to hurt himself at this rate.

You’re still staring when Nari spots him, yipping and bouncing excitedly at the edge of the fence. A broad grin spreads across your neighbor’s lips, his sharp laugh bursting into the quiet morning. He rights himself, pulling himself out of whatever pose he’d been trying to do, and stretches his back while waving at the small dog.

“Good morning! How’s my princess doing?”

Wait, did you just hear him right?

His princess?

Nari is most certainly not his anything.

She’s yours, and you’re seconds away from opening your mouth to tell him so when his attention drifts to you in the doorway. It’s not until his eyes are traveling over you that you remember you haven’t quite…well, gotten dressed yet.

You clear your throat and tug at the long sweater you’re wearing, pulling it further down your thighs in a meager attempt to hide the fact you’re only in your underwear.

Damn it. You haven’t even had your coffee yet. It’s too early and you’re too tired for this.

His gaze moves back to your face and you could swear his ears redden when his eyes meet yours. He grins. “Good morning, neighbor!”

So, your dog is his princess and you’re just…neighbor. You see how it is. Favoritism at its finest.

Not that you can blame him. One look into Nari’s perfectly round eyes and your heart melts too.

So, maybe you shouldn’t be too hard on him for spoiling her.

No, wait! You lost sleep because of him! You should be hard on him!

As your eyes move over the baggy, white t-shirt falling down around his tightly fitting athletic pants, you start to wish he’d be a little hard on you instead.

Yeah, you need more sleep.

“Morning,” you squeak, cringing at the way your voice sounds after uttering your first words of the day. Too frustrated by Nari’s incessant noise throughout the night, you hadn’t even praised her for being the cutest dog in the world this morning

Safe to say, your silent treatment went completely unnoticed by Nari. Typical.

“Rough night?” he questions with a lift of his eyebrow

You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if he knows just how rough it was…and wondering if he’d like to help make tonight a little rougher.

Good god, your mind is horrible in the mornings.

“Yeah, seems like Nari got a hold of some new toys yesterday,” you say bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest. Doing this results in the bottom of the sweatshirt inching up your thighs, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your neighbor.

He huffs out a breathless, guilt-ridden laugh and scratches at the back of his neck. “Oh? Wonder where she could’ve gotten them?”

You roll your eyes, really wishing you remembered his name. “Look, neighbor—“

“Seokjin.”

You stop short at the interruption, eyebrows pinching. “What?”

“My name’s Seokjin,” he clarifies with a small, friendly smile.

You see what he’s doing, trying to ease the tension, and of course it’s working because the asshole knows how handsome his stupid face is when he smiles.

“I didn’t ask,” you grumble, but it doesn’t carry any heat because it’s actually good to know.

Seokjin’s grin widens. “No, but I figured you forgot since we first met.” 

He then rattles off your name as if he could never forget, which makes you feel great, obviously.

Your smile is thin when you say, “Right.”

He reaches into the pocket of his athletic pants and your eyes can’t help but follow the movements, watching as he pulls out a single treat to hand over to your little baby.

You frown. She hasn’t even had her breakfast yet.

“Can I ask you something?” you question when he’s scratching your pup’s ears. He glances up at you and nods for you to go ahead. You eye Nari as her tongue lolls out of her mouth, eyes blinking happily at the handsome man who's lavishing her with attention.

Bitch.

“Why don’t you have a dog of your own?” you voice the question that’s been at the forefront of your mind since the very first time he’d given your dog a treat. At first, you’d thought he was just being neighborly, now you know it’s more than that.

A soft smile curls the corners of his lips and he looks at Nari affectionately. 

“They’re a lot of work, aren’t they?” He shrugs. “I don’t have much time for one.”

And, yet, he has plenty of time to spoil yours...

You hum, heart softening just a little at the sight of Nari softly lapping his hand.

Seokjin’s fond smile widens as he wiggles his fingers, cooing at her. “And who could ever compete with this little angel, hmm?”

You would hope that you could compete…….and now you feel ridiculous because you’re starting to feel jealous of a dog.

Your sweet, little, angelic and beautiful dog, but still.

“Sometimes I have to wonder though,” Seokjin begins, peeking up at you from beneath his lashes. He chuckles a little. “Do you even feed her? She’s always so excited.”

Yeah, nope, this is no longer cute. How dare he!

“You’re feeding her treats!” you explode, throwing your hands up in the air. “Of course she’s going to be excited! Dogs are known for being food motivated!” 

He raises his eyebrows at your outburst, hand slowly withdrawing from Nari’s head as you continue. 

“And furthermore, every time you feed her one of your treats, she never eats her food! I give it to her and she just looks at it because you’re spoiling her meals! So, yes, I feed her, but no, most of the time she hasn’t eaten yet so she’s overly excited for you to feed her something that’s in no way nutritious at all! It’s completely throwing off her routine!”

Seokjin’s lips press into a firm line, eyes creasing in silent laughter that eventually bubbles over, pouring from his lips in squeaks. “You’ve been holding that in for a while, haven’t you?”

Heat floods the apples of your cheek and you try not to appear too put-off by his observation. Clearly, you’re not subtle at all. You huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest and averting your gaze. You’re not even sure how to respond to that or what to say after your outburst. You feel a little silly for losing your composure, honestly.

Sobering slightly, Seokjin chuckles. “You could’ve asked me to stop, you know?”

Yeah, that probably would have made more sense than glaring from your back window. More heat floods your cheeks and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at yourself. How many times have you, yourself, said that communication goes a long way?

You glance at Nari, who’s settled down on the grass with her head on her paws, looking between the two of you like she’s watching some kind of show.

Yeah, must be so amusing to watch your owner make an idiot out of herself like this.

“But Nari loves you,” you sigh, rubbing your arm a little sheepishly.

“Yeah, she does.” He says it like it’s obvious, like everyone should love him, and you scoff.

“Bribery,” you grumble.

He throws his head back in a laugh, crinkled eyes sparkling as they move over you. “And is there any way to bribe her owner?”

Your eyes widen, all the thoughts you’ve had of his mouth coming to mind, and you don’t even realize your hands have moved to tug at the bottom of your sweater until his eyes shift to follow the movement.

His eyes darken, plump lips curving into a smirk that you would gladly drool over if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. “I interrupted your morning...have you had coffee yet?”

You take a step back, glancing over your shoulder into the kitchen, where the freshly brewed pot of coffee sits. You quirk an eyebrow. “I just...made a pot, actually?”

His lips twitch. “And has Nari had her breakfast yet?”

Your other eyebrow rises and you can’t help but wonder where this is going. “Not yet…”

He grips the top of the fence. “Should we change that then?”

A surprised laugh slips past your lips before you can stop it. “Are you inviting yourself into my home?”

He blinks a couple of times. “Maybe...am I being too forward?”

In your opinion, he’s not being forward enough. You whistle for Nari to come in and she jumps up instantly, skittering into the house. You shrug. “Since you’re the one that’s ruining her meals, it’s only fair that you’re the one that tries to make her eat.”

His smirk spreads into a wide grin and he eyes the ground in front of him before hopping the fence. You’re tempted to tell him about the gate you installed, but bite your lip, a little impressed he managed to make it over the fence without issue.

He’s taller than you’re expecting and your eyes widen a little as he climbs the steps, his smile a little smug as he motions toward the door. “After you, neighbor.”

Neighbor. So, you’re back to this again.

You roll your eyes and turn around, leading him into your home before you can overthink it.

*~*~*

Of course, your dog loves to make you look like a fool. She wiggles excitedly as Seokjin pours her dry food into her bowl, sitting back on her haunches and raising her front paws in a beg when he moves to set it on the floor. She eats so quickly, you’d think she’d never eaten before.

You want to wipe the smug smirk off Seokjin’s lips when he turns to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You set your jaw and pour coffee into two mugs before offering one to him, motioning toward the cream and sugar for him to do as he pleases. He follows you to the table, a little too closely, and your breath catches in your throat when he trips and catches himself with a hand to your waist.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but doesn’t bother to remove his hand. Instead, he steps a bit closer, a pleasant warmth settling against your back. You swallow, fingers fiddling with the bottom of your oversized sweater. “Nari must have been starving.”

Your eyes flutter as he shifts behind you and you struggle to turn your attention to your dog’s empty bowl. She’s a traitor, but you’re kind of grateful for it at the moment, especially as Seokjin’s grip tightens around your waist.

“I’m kind of hungry too,” he murmurs, and you vaguely hear him set down his mug before he’s moving your hair from over your shoulder. His lips don’t touch you, not the way you’re craving, but he does nuzzle into your neck, hands following the curve of your waist, down to your thighs. You press back against him at the feel of his palms against your bare skin and you feel him smile against your shoulder.

“You didn’t even bother to get dressed before ogling me this morning,” he teases, fingertips flirting over the inside of your thighs, prying your legs further apart. You feel deliciously exposed in a way that leaves you breathless, your anticipation making your hands shake. You let out a sigh when he presses himself against you, feeling his hardening length against your backside. He chuckles at the way you gasp when he subtly rolls his hips, highly aware of how needy you are. “You think I don’t notice you watching me.”

His lips finally settle over your pulse-point, teeth gently grazing and nipping at your skin. “You think I don’t know how flustered I make you, how crazy I drive you when I pay more attention to Nari than you.”

Your entire body flushes, wishing you could take back all the things you’d thought and the feelings you’d felt just this morning. Especially now that you’re so sure he’d been doing it on purpose.

He laughs lightly, squeezing your thighs. “You’re jealous of a dog, but I definitely wouldn’t be doing this--” He inches a hand higher, pinching the sensitive flesh of your thigh and making you jolt in his arms. “--to your dog.”

Yeah, that’s...a very good thing?

You manage a small, strained laugh that turns into a gasp as he spins the two of you around. You’re quick to slam your coffee down on the kitchen counter, just before he’s bending you over it. He grinds himself against your clothed core, but doesn’t let you relish in the feeling for long before he’s sinking to his knees. He plants wet, open-mouthed kisses to the back of your thighs, enjoying the way you squirm at how close he is to where you want him. To where you need him.

“Fuck,” you pant, and a saccharin chuckle slips past his lips.

His fingers flirt over the material of your underwear, dipping a finger in to swipe over your core. He hums. “So wet already and I’ve barely touched you.”

He nips at your skin, shocking you. “I bet you were imagining me between your legs this morning, weren’t you? Is that why you couldn’t look me in the eyes when I said good morning?”

Well, technically, you were fully imagining his cock, not his mouth, but…

You yelp when he suddenly moves your underwear aside, moaning at the sight of you. The pad of his finger grazes you, swiping between your folds, up to your clit and back again. “Look at you.”

God, his voice sounds wrecked already. He sounds like a man starved, like a man ready to devour you. And fuck, you want him to.

“Please,” you whimper, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get more of his fingers.

He chuckles, running his teeth along the curve of your ass. “Tell me, what have you been imagining? My fingers or my mouth?”

That’s honestly such a hard choice to make. While his lips are divine and you’ve been wondering what he could do with his head buried between your thighs, you’ve also had various fantasies about his long, slender fingers. You know he could destroy you with either and you’d be more than happy to take whatever he gives you.

He sinks his teeth into you and you jolt forward with a yelp. Panting, you mutter, “Both! Either! Please!”

“So greedy,” he laughs, but presses a kiss to your backside as his fingers find your clit. He smirks when you spread your legs wider for him and when he finally buries his face between your legs, he moans at the taste of you on his tongue. “God, you taste fucking delicious.”

You rock back against his face, desperate to feel more of his tongue. He doesn’t disappoint, prying your folds apart and pressing into you, adding a finger for good measure. He hums, the sound coming out as a growl, as he starts to finger you and suck on your clit.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So good for me. So accepting of my fingers and my tongue.”

He sucks and slurps at you like a man eating his last meal, hands moving to grip your hips as you start to tremble and thrash against him.

“That’s right,” he growls, brushing his teeth against your clit. “Cum for me, gorgeous. I wanna taste more of you.”

He sucks harshly at your clit, fingers sinking deep into your cunt as you start to tighten and then pulse around him. He’s quick to remove himself from your clit, continuing to pump his fingers into you as he slurps at your juices.

“So fucking good,” he groans, pulling you back against his face until he can barely breathe. He licks you clean, sucking at you until you’re a trembling mess in his hands and whimpering in overstimulation.

When he finally pulls away from you, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk that looks far too vulgar and far too sexy with your arousal dripping from his chin. You don’t care though, quickly pulling him to his feet and mashing your mouth to his. You taste yourself on his lips and the two of you moan, tongues tangling as you quickly hook your legs around him.

He catches you easily, setting you on the countertop and reaching for the waistband of his pants. You wiggle out of your underwear, letting them drop to the floor as he drops his pants, boxer briefs following along.

You glance down between you to get a good look at him, hand moving at its own accord and wrapping around him in a few quick pumps. He moans under the touch of your fingers, gripping your hips and pulling you toward the edge of the countertop.

“I don’t have a condom,” he groans, burying his face in your neck as you squeeze him. “I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You snort, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You were so confident that I’d been fantasizing about you, but didn’t think I’d actually let you fuck me?”

He grunts, teeth scraping along your neck. “I mean...a guy can hope.”

You sigh, dropping your hand away in favor of wrapping your legs around his ass to pull him toward you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders with a smirk. “It’s a good thing I’m on the pill then...and clean.”

His eyes widen, lush lips parting. “I’m clean too...you’d really let me fuck you raw?”

You bite your lip and nod, causing him to tip his head back in a moan.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he praises, taking himself in his hand and lining himself up. He lets the tip nudge against your folds, dragging it up to your clit and back down again. He glances up at you as you bite your lip. “You sure?”

Your grip around him tightens and you pull him closer. “Yes! Please, fuck me!”

His cocky smirk melts away as he sinks into you, slipping in easily with how wet you are. He holds himself there for a moment, adjusting to the warmth of you wrapped around him. Your walls flutter, still sensitive from the way he’d fucked you with his fingers moments before, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“You feel so good,” he groans, slowly pulling out to slowly push back in. The movement feels good -- so blissfully good -- but it’s not enough. It’s not what you’re craving.

You fingers sink into his shoulders and your legs tighten around him. “Harder.”

“Harder?” he questions, smirk evident in his voice, and you’re immediately regretting your words as he pulls out just as slow, only to snap his hips forward. He carries on this way, at the same agonizingly slow, but deep, pace and you can feel your nerves starting to light on fire. Your entire body feels warm, blood pumping eagerly through your veins as he scrapes against your walls.

“Faster,” you plead, wishing he’d just fuck you hard and dirty the way you’d always imagined.

“Hmm,” he hums, kissing up the length of your neck until he reaches your ear. He nips and teases at your skin. “You sure? This won’t last long, not with you so wet and tight around my cock. You really that eager for me to cum inside you, neighbor? Really want me to fill you up?”

His words have you whimpering, hips rolling desperately against his in an attempt to speed things up.

He chuckles, hands squeezing around your hips to slow you down. “I should’ve known you’d be this desperate after watching me for months. I bet you’ve imagined cumming around my cock, huh? Probably fucked yourself with your fingers and wished it was me.”

You cry out when his fingers pinch your clit.

“You want to cum?” he taunts, and you nod your head quickly, clinging to him for all your worth as he finally, finally picks up the pace.

“Then cum,” he huffs, fingertips digging into your waist as he barrels into you, plucking at the coil wound so tightly within you that you’re crying out and panting against his neck.

“Seokjin!” you yelp, finally able to move your hips and help set the pace.

He’s breathing heavily along with you, sweat dripping from the strands of his hair, as he nods. “Cum for me, princess.”

As if attached to some wire, you do exactly as you’re told, orgasm crashing through you like a wave and leaving your body trembling against him. You’re whimpering and sighing and moaning out his name as your walls squeeze around him, milking him of every last drop as his orgasm quickly follows.

“Fuck, yes,” he grunts, fingers moving quickly over your clit to prolong your orgasm and leave you a trembling, sweating mess. He keeps going until he’s spent, until you’re whimpering out small tears. He stills, slowly pulling out of you as he kisses your tears away, pulling you in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss that leaves you panting against his mouth.

He brushes your sweat-slicked hair from your forehead and offers a small smile, eyes soft and a little sleepy. “You did so well.”

You manage a wobbly smile, still a little dazed, and turn your head to kiss the palm resting against your cheek. “You didn’t do so bad yourself.”

He laughs, that high-pitched sound that you’re slowly growing fond of. “We should clean up and then think about having a real breakfast…if you want to, that is.”

You smile, leaning in to kiss him chastely on the lips because you really can’t resist. You let out a contented sigh. “I’d like that.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I guess I should get to know the man Nari has fallen so hard for.”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Mm, yeah, and maybe I can find a few ways to get her owner to fall for me too.”

You snort, knocking his hands away and jumping down from the counter with a slight wince. “Yeah, maybe.”

Because, yeah, it’s entirely likely.

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

Ransom’s Hallmark Moment

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4300

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut including unprotected sex (imagine that birth control), Ransom's bad attitude and Ransom being soft (what?!)

A/N: written for the Hoelentine's Day Challenge hosted by @chrissquares @amythedvdhoarder and @drabblewithfrannybarnes

My giftee is Heather @hevans-angel and I hope I've been able to fulfill some of your wishes you sweet lady!

So much appreciation for @stargazingfangirl18 and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me and being so supportive and creative! Now, on to the fic!

Aside from the date on the calendar, it feels like a typical Sunday. You got a lot done around the house, allowed yourself some time to relax and baked enough for a small army. Wiping the last of the crumbs away, you proudly look over the pile of treats ready to be given out the next day at work - all sweet and sprinkled and festive in pink and red. Spending the day baking, relaxed and comfortable with old episodes of ‘Bewitched’ on for company is just what you needed before starting another week. Plus, you aren't really alone. There's always Andy.

The wind suddenly blows hard, shaking the windows. You glance outside at the darkened sky, noticing the heavy sheets of snow falling to the ground.

“Shit,” you hiss, making your way to the back door and opening it, “Andy!”

You wait a moment and shout again, “Andy! Come on in!” followed by a series of whistles.

Nothing.

“Oh no, no no please no, not again,” you whine, heading back into the kitchen to find your phone already ringing. You scrunch up your face in a grimace as you answer as sweetly as possible, “Hello?”

“Missing something?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s here of course. If you don’t get here soon, I might call animal control.”

“You always say that, Ransom, but I know you like him. I’ve seen the water bowl and that old tennis ball by the front walkway.”

“That’s from the housekeeper.”

“Mmhmm, sure. You know I’ll be right there. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are, see you soon angel.”

You scoff at the nickname. He’s always using a sweet one on you, while calling your dog something far less endearing like hellhound, or fleabag, or even Cujo. The first time he said that one, you looked over at your Lab/Husky mix, with his ears perked at attention and tongue lolling out from his dopey dog smile and laughed like you hadn’t in a long time.

Ransom was less amused.

For some reason, when you moved to the little cottage house set back into the woods, your dog decided to treat himself to adventures which almost always ended with him in front of the wall of windows at Ransom’s home smearing his nose, and drool and mud all over the panes of glass. 

That first pickup was not encouraging. You’d been out searching and going down the long driveways of your neighbors to search until you found him at Ransom’s, sitting and thumping his tail against the ground and staring at Ransom through the window, who for his part, stood with his arms crossed and scowling down at your dog.

That was the first time he told you to keep him contained or he’d call animal control. 

You gave him your number, begging him to call you instead if it happened again. After a few weeks the promise of calling animal control was more of a joke than a threat.

Half the time you were already on your way over, having noticed the dog had taken off, but the other half, it was a grumpy call from Ransom, complaining about being harassed by some wild beast. Apparently the ability to spin a tale was a family trait.

By the time you got there, Andy would usually be tired out from his little journey and be waiting for you to leash him, allowing you and Ransom to get caught up in conversation. And so began an awkward-sometimes tense-sometimes flirty almost-friendship with the man. You were equal parts grateful and pissed at Andy, because of course he would go out of his furry little way to make an ass of you in front of the most handsome man you’ve seen in real life. Tall, broad-shouldered, stoic and reserved, plus cocky to top it all off - the man was checking boxes left and right.

Weeks later, Ransom was still those things, but also sarcastic, witty, a bit playful and very charming when he was in the mood. You caught the appreciative looks he gave your body when you approached (not that he really tried to hide them), and you allowed yourself moments to linger on his features as well. Your little conversations on his front walkway almost always turned flirty, at least until Andy made his impatient presence known by tugging at the leash or barking to get your attention. 

You pack up some cookies, cupcakes, and truffles you made to make some sort of peace offering, grab the leash, and head out to retrieve your little trouble-maker. The thick, wet flakes are heavy, and make the journey down the wood-lined roads slower than usual.

You pull up, squinting through the falling snow, unable to see Andy in his usual spot. You see Ransom walk through the house and to the door, waving you inside, so you hurry from the car, head ducked down to try to avoid the chill and wedge your way in, shaking away the snow once you feel the warmth inside.

“He’s in my garage,” he tells you in lieu of an actual greeting, moving away as you shake off the snow.

“What? You let him inside?”

“Not inside-inside, but yeah. I know better than to leave a pet out in that. Christ. And you know, I keep telling you, princess if you want to see me, you don’t have to keep sending that mutt over as an excuse.”

“Yeah, sure. But what a waste of all that training,” you quip back. It’s almost a routine at this point.

You roll your eyes when he gives you an over exaggerated, proud smile. You immediately want to roll your eyes again because of how good that stupid smile looks on him, too. Your gaze can’t help but travel up and down the length of him, long legs, slim hips that go up to those broad shoulders, all encased in a heavy sweater...with holes torn at the lower hem and at the stomach.

Without thinking, you rush forward to grab the frayed yarn cringing at the idea of needing to replace the expensive garment, “Oh no, did he do this? I know he gets jumpy when he’s excited.”

“No, he didn’t,” he wipes at the front of this stomach. “It’s fine. It’s just like that.”

He can’t even say anything else before you start with more apologizing and rambling, “I am so, so sorry. I swear I only left him out there for a few minutes so he could play in the snow, and he’s been so good. And here,” you thrust the package at him, “I made some food and I hope you have a sweet tooth, and I know it doesn’t make up for the inconvenience and-”

“What’s this?” he asks, shaking it slightly and breaking up your word vomit.

“Uh, it-it’s just like some cookies and stuff that I made.”

“What for?”

“For Valentine’s Day. I made a bunch of stuff because at work we’re doing a thing tomorrow, so-”

“No, I mean why are you giving these to me?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought you would need to explain, “Um, neighborly kindness? Gratitude? Because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

“Huh. Does this make you my Valentine?” He laughs and turns on his heel, walking away toward where you can see is the kitchen area. 

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as the sweet and cuddly Valentine type,” you call after him, hearing him chuckle in response.

You wait in the foyer for what feels like too long, just listening as he moves around, opens and closes cabinets and goes on like you’re not there. You look around uncertain what you’re expected to do since you usually don’t make it past the doorway until you decide to pull off your boots and hang your jacket over a chair set near the door. You follow the path he made into the kitchen.

“Sooo. Like I was trying to say, I don’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, “I will just grab Andy and head on home.”

“You really wanna drive with that going on?” he gestures to the window. When you look, it’s practically a blizzard and your car is covered in a fresh, thick layer already.

“Shit,” you rub at the side of your face, nervous at the idea of navigating the roads, but just as anxious to not irritate the man staring you down from across the counter. “Not really. Where’s Andy? I wanna check on him.”

He points to a door down the hall. “Garage is through there.”

You make your way through the house with your jaw clenched, unsure with what you might find knowing that Ransom’s not exactly a fan of dogs. So opening the door he pointed to and finding your dog curled up on an old tarp with that familiar worn-out tennis ball, a full water bowl, all cozy and warm inside the otherwise empty garage is not what you expected at all. 

Your dog lifts his head, tail thumping against the floor as you approach, but he seems worn out from his romp through the snow, so you let him settle down after making sure he’s alright and head back to Ransom in the living room. A small smile in place of your grimace from a few moments before.

“The garage is heated,” Ransom tells you from his seat on the couch. “Figured he’d be alright in there. Can’t do much damage.”

“That’s...that’s really great.” You’re caught off-guard by the thoughtfulness of it. “Thanks for setting him up. I’ll just wait until it slows down and head back out, don’t want to mess up any plans you had.”

He laughs at that, hard and loud. “No, in fact you and the mutt gave me the perfect out from a family thing.”

“Oh really, don’t let us keep you.”

“Oh no, I’m too busy being a hero during the snowstorm,” he answers dryly, letting silence hang in the air for a few moments afterward. “Drink?” he offers.

“A hero? That’s the excuse you’re giving them?” You try to wave off the drink offer, but then he points back outside. 

“I think we’ve got some time on our hands. And yeah, makes for a great story, doesn’t it?” he chuckles to himself. 

You glance back to the wall of windows, seeing nothing but swirling white and sighing, “Sure, might as well. But just to let you know, Andy might not be thrilled that you’re using him as an excuse.”

He smiles and gets up from the sofa to pour you each a glass, then turns back and holds yours out to you, “I know a girl, I think she might be willing to put in a good word for me.”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin and sit on the sofa when he does.

A little while goes by and despite the somewhat awkward start to the situation, he’s not bad company. Andy is still content with his set-up, nearly ready to tuck in for the night when you check on him again later. When you return, Ransom’s opened the box of goodies, happily making a dent in the whiskey dark chocolate truffles you piled in there.

“So, you’re sure we’re not interrupting anything? No lady or ladies or even gentlemen you planned to entertain?” You ask as you settle back onto the sofa, closer to the center. Ransom had ignited the fireplace while you were up, dimming the lights and letting the orange flames illuminate the space in front of you.

“Will you drop it already? Nothing aside from the usual family obligation to show up, deal with passive aggressive bullshit, then some outright aggressive bullshit, and watching the show when it all implodes. I am happy to let a pretty girl and her big, messy dog give me an excuse to stay home.”

You laugh, trying to brush off the compliment thrown in there, “Hard to believe you want to miss out on all that. Sounds like a real special time.”

“Very special,” he drawls. He wipes some crumbs off his fingers as he shakes his head before adding, “Trust me this is much better.” He tosses his arm over the back of the couch, letting it fall on your shoulders and force you to lean a bit further into him. 

“Yeah,” you mutter as you look down to your feet and fumble a string of syllables of incomplete words as you try to remind yourself to not read too much into what he’s saying.

“Oh, come on.” He picks up the slack in the conversation when you still don’t manage to say anything else for a few moments, leaning into your space as he breaks the silence. “So, I finally have you all to myself and you’re gonna be shy for me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide and heat rising in your cheeks and chest. “What?”

The hand not wrapped over you reaches out and pushes your chin up, closing your mouth which dropped into an ‘o’ of surprise. His thumb slides up to trace at the pout of your lip.

“Please, baby girl. Neither of us is very subtle. I don’t really do romance, but we’ve got a fire going, we’re stuck in a snowstorm, and I’ve been wanting to get you all to myself since that mutt first showed up over here. If that isn’t some panty-soaking Hallmark crap right there, then I don’t know what is.”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh right along with you. The tension has shaken loose and your smile is uncontrollable. It’s ridiculous - the scenario, his words, that he can read you so well, that he isn’t wrong. 

“Hard to believe you don’t have women knocking down your door with all that to offer.”

“Just one woman, and her very stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you start in offense, but still move in when he does, smiling into the kiss. It’s chaste and soft for brief seconds before lips part and your tongues meet. His hands waste no time to pull you closer, tugging you along and making you shift on your knees until he pulls you over him to straddle his lap.

You’re grabbing at everything you can, bunching his thick sweater in your hands, then sliding up and down over his shoulders and biceps, appreciating how solid he feels beneath you. Until finally, you rake your fingers into his hair, ruffling it a bit and then grasping it tightly at the crown to pull his head back, drawing a short moan from his throat.

He tilts back into the pull and you lift yourself up higher on your knees to keep your lips together. When your hands finally let go, allowing him to ease the arch of his neck, you take your time sliding your body down against his torso, pushing your core over the hard bulge in his slacks.

“You gotta ride me, baby.” It sounds like an order, not an option.

Yes. You aren’t sure if you say it out loud, but you feel the air leave your lungs in a rush and your body quivers at just the thought. You don’t care if this is quick, or rushed, or frantic - it’s exactly what you want rightfuckingnow.

His palms rest at the edge of your hip bones, fingers spread and digging into your sides and just slightly pushing and pulling you to get some pressure where you feel that he’s hard.

You reach down, covering his hands with yours and pull them up your sides under your sweater, not so much encouraging as demanding that he move things along. He gets with the program quickly and pushes the sweater up, separating your lips long enough to take it off then pulling you back as quickly as he can. His hands find their own way to the clasp of your bra, making quick work of removing it as well and eagerly touching every inch of bare skin.

When you both start to pant, breaths coming out hard and shaky, he moves his lips to tickle the skin on your cheek, down to your jaw, along the curve there and onto your neck. He sucks at the sensitive skin, nibbling and dragging his teeth when he gets focused on a single sensitive spot that makes you whine out loud. 

Your head hangs down to the side, letting him work his way down the column of skin there and sinking into the loose, ragdoll feeling as your body just gives in to every sensation of pleasure. His arms squeeze you against him while he keeps pushing his hips up and into you, teasing you with hints of pressure where you are starting to feel empty and needy.

“Yes,” you gasp, definitely out loud this time. “Yes,” over and over, every time he does something whether it is with his tongue, or his fingers - his blunt nails digging into the sides of your ribs to hold you tightly in place, or the twist of your hips as he lifts his own up against you.

It’s so much, and you’ve only just lost your shirt. It’s not worth waiting anymore. Your mind is set now to just get what you want.

You push away from him. He slowly comes to, eyes glazed and unfocused, a low mutter of “the fuck” slurred from his lips. Before he can reach for you, you lift off him. Your legs are shaky, but you stand as steadily as you can, undoing the button and zipper and pulling down your jeans and panties in a single push.

He watches for a second, then reaches behind him, gripping the neck of his sweater and hauling it up and over his head. He reveals almost exactly what you were hoping for - solid, defined muscles and smooth skin - but there’s more. Hair across his pecs and in a line down the center of his abs, and freckles dotting everywhere on his fair skin. You want to caress and trace every one, run your fingers along imaginary paths and press against him - but it can wait. It’s got to wait.

Impatiently, you kneel, kicking the legs of your pants away and shuffling forward to reach for his belt. His hands settle at his side, flexing, but letting you do what you seem to be compelled to do. You fling the ends of the belt apart and pull at the button and then the zipper, already salivating at the mingling scent of his cologne and sex.

He straightens his hips, lifting from the couch to allow you to shove his boxers and pants down his legs, his cock pulling with them, then bouncing back up once freed. It throbs, slightly bobbing with a rush of arousal and you can’t help but admire the thickness of it, the swollen head that glistens with smeared pre-come.

Heat burns over your skin, and when you look up at Ransom, he’s clearly feeling the same. His cheeks are flushed in patches of pink, his lips red, swollen, and parted as he lets out short, shaky breaths, hair hanging loose and disheveled. It’s more than you hoped for, and it’s disgusting how perfect he looks. 

As much as you want to tease, to keep this view while you swallow him down and taste him, your pussy throbs. You promise yourself again to take more time with him later, to lick and suck and taste him the way you want, but you can’t resist at least a taste. You grab his shaft, leaning in to swallow him deeply - just once - and draw a shocked moan from him before pulling off and pushing up from your knees, humming at the taste of him.

“Damn, princess. I thought I was going to ruin you, but fuck, you’re good.” He reaches forward as you’re moving up, his hand grabbing at the back of your head to guide you. He pulls a bit at your hair when you’re back up to the couch and spreading your thighs wide over his. His free hand reaches between your legs swirling through your wet, sensitive slit and pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit.

“Later,” he promises, “I’m gonna taste your pussy. Gonna lick it all up.” He pulls his hand away and sucks away your juices as they drip down his fingers. The promise is so dirty it makes your breath shake in anticipation. You stare into each others’ eyes, admiring the wreckage between you and moving without guidance to seat yourself on top. 

You gasp when you finally feel the hot, hard line of him pressed against your pussy. It feels so thick, and you’re eager to feel the stretch of him pushing inside. You lock your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts together, nipples peaking as they drag along the coarse hair on his chest. 

The lips of your pussy spread over his cock, coating him with your slick. His cockhead rubs over your clit, making you shudder and suck in stuttering breath, and that’s it. You can’t take it anymore.

“Can I have your cock?” Deep down, you know you don’t really need to ask. 

“Yeah,” he adjusts his hips, scooting himself out a little further to give you more room to settle against him. “You’re gonna fucking ride me, princess. Come all over me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, high and airy.

He takes one hand off you, using two fingers to angle his cock toward you. You lift up on your knees, tipping your hips until you feel him against your entrance. You pause for a brief second to ready yourself, then sink down, taking him all in at once.

The stretch makes you groan, the static-like buzzing mix of ache and pleasure spreading all over and making you throw your head back and deepen the moan.

He huffs out a few quick breaths. “That’s it, oh that pussy is so good. So fucking good, princess,” he mumbles.

Then his hands are back on your hips, warm against the bare skin and strong when he digs the tips of his fingers in to pull you further down, “This cock filling you up? Huh?”

All you can manage is another high-pitched, “Uh-huh,” while you start to roll your hips, barely lifting as you shift back and forth to grind against him, your walls still squeezing him tight.

“Come on, let go, baby,” he whispers, his mouth tight against your ear. Your arms loosen their grip around his neck and you place your hands instead on the muscles flexing at the tops of his shoulders. 

You move your knees to get them comfortable and then finally push yourself off him, sliding and gasping as you feel the head of his cock catching just at your entrance again, and after another silent beat, you slide back down, taking his hard length again.

With the space given, he dips his mouth to your breasts, swirling and suckling at your nipples, Harsh, fast sucks followed by quick nips when he catches the hard peaks in between his teeth until you gasp and moan. Only then does he switch it up, his tongue gently rolling over the bud, soothing the stinging ache.

All the while you roll your hips and the burn, the push, the fullness of him inside you is drugging. Your eyes fall closed as you focus on the steadily growing tingle low in your belly.

You start to chase it with slow, dragging strokes, easing up only to drop down and have him bottom out deep inside. It builds fast, making your thighs burn and knees ache as you try to keep your position; one knee has managed to wedge into the corner of the couch and the rhythm needed to build your orgasm conflicts with the concentration needed to keep yourself steady.

“Just take it, babygirl. I got you,” he whispers, feeling your body getting tired on top of him.

He shifts his legs, placing his feet on the ground and pushing up into you, letting you settle on his lap and rock yourself forward and back while his cock stays buried in you. He adjusts his hands to rest just at your tailbone, pressing you steadily against him and giving the pressure needed to your clit when you press against his pubic bone.

Cries start to escape from you, first quiet and breathy, but then building as the air gets pushed out in hard breaths. Your body inches closer and closer to that release, your body hot and burning and there’s a slight moment of too much just before it hits...and then it’s rushing over you - all liquid fire and bliss. You clamp down over him, legs straining over the tight muscles of his thighs.

He pushes up into you, his hands pressing harder at the middle of your back to keep you moving through your release as he works to find his. He hisses through clenched teeth, broken praises coming out on hard breaths.

“Yeah...There...Righthere...God...Fuck.”

When he curls into you, nails digging into your soft skin and breathing heavy against your chest, you know he’s right there.

“Come for me,” you whisper.

“God - yeah!” With one final, hard thrust, he does. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you when he releases, his hips jerking up slightly to keep pushing into you while the tense features of his face soften with relief.

For a moment it’s nothing but panting breaths and the racing beat of your pulse in your ears. Then it’s slow, dragging hands across naked skin and muscle, soothing the tense muscles and tickling sensitive spots and whispering praise to the man beneath you while he hugs you tight to him.

His voice is low and quiet as he asks, “Is the mutt gonna be mad that I stole his Valentine?” 

“You like me,” you smile against his neck and tease him with a sing-song voice, “And you like my dog.”

“I like you,” he agrees. “The dog’s okay, too.”

“Does that mean Andy should come harass you again on Friday night?”

“I’ll even get a dog-sitter.” He says with a smirk. “Let him know that 7 would be good.”

Tags: @jtargaryen18 @ozarkthedog @wi-deangirl77 @angrythingstarlight @donutloverxo @navybrat817 @saiyanprincessswanie  @sweeterthanthis @sagechanoafterdark @tuiccim 

[bokunosimpfiction]

Demon!Dimitrescux Reader

Synopsis: Lady Dimitrescu reveals herself as a demon that has made it her personal mission to guard you after what you believe is the case of worst/best timing of your entire life. No trigger warnings. 1.6k words.

A/N: This took me less than two hours to write/publish this. I needed this out of my system ASAP

             The black Toyota Corolla had to look strangely familiar your first pass down the street. It reminded you of your boyfriend’s car, and you swore that the digits of the license plate must have been one or two off his, and the generic pine tree air freshener must have been a different color. Not to mention the woman in the backseat with a cocktail dress on.

             You chose not to think about it as you walked into the 7-11 in nothing but your pajamas and the pair of crocs you haven’t worn since being on the college swim team. It wasn’t hard to decide what to grab off the shelves. A bag of chips store brand sour patch kids and gummy worms, a two-liter of Pepsi, and a bottle of wine too big for one person. The cashier looked just as tired as you did, and you understood what it was like, barely, time is a social construct that distanced you deeply from the night shifts you pulled at this same store while in college. Nine to five shifts (Dolly Parton shifts, your coworker would call them with a smile) were only better because you could sit down and have a stable sleep schedule. It was the same grueling work, and in your case, you had to deal with the same shitty people that complained about things you can’t control.

             His droning voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. “The total is forty-eight fifty-seven.” He was either crying in the backroom while you were picking out your chips or hit a massive dab, you weren’t sure, but his red eyes made either option feasible. You didn’t comment on it, only handing him two twenties and a ten and taking the change back before walking out the door. You didn’t say anything to him, and vice versa, which you appreciated because you didn’t have the energy to deal with a chatty Kathy right now. And as you pull yourself down the street, your bag of crap from 7-11 in your hand, you pass that same deja-vu-mobile and look at the stickers on the back.

             The same I love my dog and proud cat-dad stickers in the exact same place, the dent on the right side of the bumper, and the license plate that was in fact, one hundred percent his. Which begs the question, who was the girl in the cocktail dress, and what was she doing in the backseat? The question didn’t matter for long because the car promptly burst into flames. Oh well. Wait.

The.

Car.

Is.

On.

Fire.

             It’s your boyfriend’s car.

Your

Boyfriends.

Car.

Is.

On.

Fire.

             You wipe out your phone to call the fire department when you see the girl in the same cocktail dress crawl out of the car, dress pulled up to her waist, barefoot and mascara streaming down her face. She’s violently beating his clutch against the ground, desperate to put out the flames while your boyfriend slams the door open on the other side and throws himself out full force onto the asphalt of the busy street. He looks up and sees the anger in your eyes.

             “Hey, babe.”

             “I-I-can-” he stutters violently. His face was red in anger and blood dripping from his nose due to the face-first collision with the freshly paved street.

             “We’re over.”

             You do him the favor of calling the fire department for his car and walk off as soon as you hear the sirens of the firetruck. You didn’t have anything to do with it. No need to watch the fallout when you had nothing to do with the disaster. Besides, your soda’s getting cold, you wanted to drink that before it got Luke-warm. You ended up dropping off the crap and walking to the 24-7 grocery store a little farther in the other direction to get ice cream. Standing in the frozen aisle, in nothing but your pajamas, bright red crocs, and moist eyes, you try and decide between the weird, nuanced flavors that all taste like vanilla anyhow.

             You look up towards the top shelf when you notice the woman leaning over you. She’s deathly pale, skin as pale as paper and lipstick so red it glowed compared to everything else. Her huge hat would make a shadow on her face if it weren’t propped right above her hairline.

             “So, did you enjoy the show sweet-heart,” she whispers in your ear. You feel her breath on your neck and her gaze freezes your heart. “You didn’t think that his car catching on fire was a happy accident now did you?”

             You turn around, only not to see her behind you, but on the fogged-up glass doors on the other side of the aisle. “Did you really think that I’d be standing right behind you?” Her question is almost taunting.

             “Who are you?”

             She breathes into her elegant pipe only to blow out to re-fog the glass before staring dead into your eyes and saying the words that changed your life forever. “I’m your guardian demon.”

             You honestly thought you were losing your mind, seeing this woman in the glass, telling you she was a demon who set your ex’s car on fire. (It felt odd to call him that, you had been dating him for three years). Her elegant leg steps through the glass, her dress riding up to just below her knee before it hit the ground and the rest of her flowed into our realm as smoothly as her dress swayed when she walked over to you.

             She was almost twice your height, and the view from where she stood in front of you made her feel even more so tall. “So mortal, what do you have to say, knowing that you have a five-hundred-year-old all-powerful demon protecting you?”

             “What happened to my guardian angel?”

             She scoffs. “You never had one. Most people nowadays have guardian angels, in fact, I’ve only heard of one other mortal who hasn’t had one that’s alive right now.”

             “What do you mean?” You can’t help but ask. There’s an entire world of things you didn’t understand. Angels. Demons. Hell, even bigfoot could be real for all you know.

             “Well, darling, there is a very simple answer to that question: there are only so many angels for so many mortals, and so sometimes a few slip through the cracks of the system, and that’s where we step in.” She moves around to the refrigerator next to you and inspects the sorbets. “Despite what the church tells you, us demons love humans. They’re a claim to social status. You bring a human home, and you’re viewed as wealthy, famous even.”

             “So that’s what you get out of taking a person’s soul in a deal.”

             She turns to you. “When I what now?”

             “Ya’ know,” you say, “a person makes a deal with a demon in exchange for money or fame, and when they die their soul belongs to the demon and they’re doomed to eternal hell yada-yada-yada.”

             “Is that what they’re teaching you, now.”

             “At least that’s what my mother says. I didn’t really believe in any of this stuff till you stepped out of the door and said you set my ex’s car on fire.”

             “I would have done it sooner, but you looked so happy with him, it was difficult to pull that away from you,” she sighs before standing up to her full height, “that woman he was with was going to give you HPV and I’d prefer the human I fought tooth and nail over to not get an STD. I would never have let that stupid-man-thing touch you had I known he would cheat on you with a mortal so… infected.” What an interesting word to decide to land on.

             She turns and waltzes back across the aisle with a grace that has long been lost to time. “And besides, you’re better off without him, with him off your mind you’ll be able to take that new project on at work and get that raise you’ve been needing so badly.”

             You’re still trying to process this. “You mentioned that you only heard of one other mortal with a demon guardian. Who is he?”

             “His name doesn’t matter, all I really care about is that damn man-child, Heisenberg, is watching him, which means he won’t be alive much longer.”

             “Do you kill us?”

             She puts her hand to her chest and looks genuinely offended before her features soften when she realizes you had never met a demon in your entire life not to mention even believing in them. “We would never. Our humans are like our children, and while we may not be able to subtle pull strings to protect those that we watch over, we do have our more… direct ways of protecting them.”

             “Like setting his car on fire.”

             “I’ve done worse things to keep you safe.”

             Your face pales, but your curiosity brightens your eyes. “Like what?”

             “Your so demand, child, but remember when lightning struck the tree in your backyard, and it fell and landed on your neighbor fifteen or so years ago?”

             You can’t formulate words.

             “Or how your car broke down on the side of the road so you couldn’t reach the hotel you booked?”

             “You did that!”

             “They were going to steal your luggage!” She scoffs before taking a long drag from her pipe. “Anymore, questions?”

             “Is Jesus real?”

             “I wasn’t there for that, and if he was, he hasn’t left his fluffy little sky bed since being nailed to that goddamn cross.”

             “One more.”

             “It better not be stupid, darling.”

             “What ice cream should I get?”

             Her soft smile returns. “Get the java-chip, but the one right behind the front one, there’s a little extra than usual in that container.”

[blueposthings]

Little Informant (pt. 2)

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Words: 2.1k+

---------------------------

You had taken your time in getting back home, the fifteen minute walk turned to two hours when you decided to take a stroll around town. It was late, too late for a frail girl like you to be roaming the streets of New York all by yourself. But you had to clear your mind. Besides, with your self-defense skills along with the trusty butterfly knife you always had with you at all times, you were pretty confident.

However, when you finally arrived back at your apartment, you had noticed several things out of place; the dust on the right side of the door frame, two feet above the floor, had a gap, you were sure you hadn’t touched it; the nail of one of the panels on the creaky floorboard was slanted, someone had tripped on it.

There was an intruder in your house.

You slowly grabbed your knife from your jacket pocket before reaching for your keys, intentionally shaking it in your fingers. You turned your keys and opened the door with your left hand, the knife on your right, ready to fight. When no one ambushed you, you crouched down like you were going to untie your shoes when in fact you reached for the gun you had stored below the shoe cabinet.

You replaced the knife in your hold with the handgun, holding it firmly with both of your hands before peeking out from the corner of your doorway. Sure enough, stood a man about six feet tall dressed in all black in your poor excuse of a kitchen, you noticed he was holding a pistol of his own in one hand and a framed picture of you and your father in the other.

“You do look like him, you know?” He said, acknowledging your presence.

“Who are you?” You had your gun trained on him. Your gaze unwavering, despite your heart trying to beat out of your ribcage.

“You can consider me an old family friend.” The man placed the frame back to the countertop as he turned to you.

“Why are you here?” You stood your ground at the front doorway as he approached you slowly, his gun in hand.

“When you opened that laptop, it sent a signal to us. We thought Rumlow had come back from the dead so I offered to go.” He said, ever so casually. “Then I found these photos and, I gotta say, I’m quite surprised. I never took your father as- well, a father.”

He was only a few feet in front of you now, your gun pointed straight to his chest. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“If you’re anything like Brock, you could be a great asset to us, Y/N-”

“How do you know my name?”

“Perhaps, you might want to consider joining us? Your father would be proud.”

“I’m not an asset,” you gritted out. “And I’m nothing like him.”

This perked your intruder’s attention, his head tilted slightly to the side. “Oh?”

You realized then that you might have spilled something you shouldn’t have. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, your hands struggling to keep your weapon steady.

“Do tell me, Y/N. What did you do with the information from that laptop?” His tone was now much sharper, accusing.

You searched your brain to try and find a believable lie, something that wouldn’t put your life in danger. In your moment of silence, the man in front of you grew impatient and furious.

“Where were you just now?”

“None of your business.” You finally said, your voice giving you away with a crack.

“What a shame.” The man sighed, bowing his head to the floor for a second. “I hope Brock’s gonna forgive me for this one.” Then he raised his gun at you, with anger in his eyes.

Time seemed to slow down when you pulled your trigger. However, the man managed to avoid it at the last second, the bullet only hitting his shoulder. The force pushed him back and he let go of his gun, his good hand holding his wound.

“Little shit.” He cursed before charging at you.

You re-aimed your gun, but due to the close distance between the two of you, he successfully pushed it away. He used his whole body weight to knock you back to the wall, resulting in you losing your grip of the pistol in your hand. You grabbed your knife from your pocket, forcing the butt to his head, making him groan as he stumbled ever so slightly. You pushed him back by the injured shoulder, your thumb digging in to the bullet wound. You then kneed him in the stomach, your dominant hand twirling open the knife and stabbing him in the back. You pushed his body off of you with all your might and tried to make a run for it.

You only managed to get a couple of steps away when he grabbed your foot. You tripped and fell face first to the floor. You groaned, your head was spinning and you could feel blood oozing from your nose. The intruder dragged himself up with his good arm while you tried to collect yourself. You still had the knife in your hand so you tried to land another stab to his leg, but he blocked it, grabbing your hand and twisting it so you’d drop the weapon. But what you lack in size and power, you made up with agility -when he yanked your arm up, you used the momentum to help you jump up and straddle his neck with your two legs, your arms holding him in a choke hold. He tried to get you off but between the bullet and the stab wound, he was already losing a lot of blood. He stumbled around, crashing through your coffee table and one of your bookshelves. At one point he went close enough to the TV stand where you had an old glass vase on top. You grabbed the vase and swung it to his face, it broke and he fell unconscious with you below him. You were sure you must have heard a crack, but with the adrenaline numbing your pain you couldn't tell if it was his bone or yours.

------------

When you noticed he wasn’t moving, you took a second to collect your breath. Eventually, you pushed him off and got up, grabbing your knife and both guns before running off.

“And we believe the kid?” Clint crossed his arms. He stared at the back of his teammate’s head, almost seeing the cogs in his skull turning.

“Yes, I know she was telling the truth.” Steve said, his voice an octave lower than it usually is. “I could feel it.”

“No offense, Cap. But when it comes to the sake of the planet’s security, I would rather not go on gut feeling.”

“Have you considered maybe this is just your guilt speaking?” Natasha chimed into the conversation from the other side of the table.

Steve was silent for a moment. “It’s not,” he finally said, although it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

“As much as I hate to say this, but I think the oldman’s right,” Tony sat back down on the closest chair to the front of the room. “I don’t think she was lying, at least not about this.”

“I say, it is better to be safe than sorry.” Vision spoke up, his gaze not leaving the files displayed on the holograms.

“He’s got a point. We have this information- the location of everything. Why don’t we go see for ourselves.” Rhodes added.

When no one interjected, the room took it as an agreement. Tony was about to tell FRIDAY to display the closest base that they could locate when the A.I. had another idea.

“Tony, there has been a 911 call from the address you told me to look out for.”

This got the man on his feet. “When?”

“Just a few seconds ago. The neighbors reported hearing gunshots and loud crashes. The police are on their way, they should arrive in eight to ten minutes.”

“We can get there in two.”

----------------

They got to your apartment in exactly eighty four seconds. Tony, along with Steve, Clint, Sam and Natasha rushed past some of your curious neighbors and arrived in front of your door. Your keys were still in the door knob when Natasha pushed the door open. Obviously the first thing they noticed was the situation of your living room. And the unconscious man on the floor.

Clint approached the bleeding man, checking for a pulse. “He’s alive, barely.”

Natasha tossed him a pair of handcuffs and the archer gathered the unknown man’s hands before securing him. She then entered a nearby closet in an unsuccessful attempt of finding the apartment’s owner.

The rest of them looked around the ransacked apartment trying to get an idea of what happened or who this man was. Steve picked up one of the photographs that was shattered on the floor, the one your intruder was looking at earlier. There was a pit forming in his stomach as he processed what he was seeing. You’d taken the photograph at your middle school father-daughter dance. He was always at work, but that day he had taken a day off to attend the event for you, even took you shopping to get a nice pastel pink dress and a tie for him to match. You grinned in that photo, unintentionally showing off your braces; your father had his hand around your frame, a gentle yet charismatic smile adorning his lips.

Sam went further to the apartment, ending up in your room. He took in the decorations -or rather lack thereof. Your walls contrasted those of the living room, aside from one old poster of a band Sam didn’t recognize, there was only a bed in the centre of the room. He stepped out of the room and entered another. There was more personality, more life, in this room. Ironic really, seeing as it was your late father’s. There were pictures of him and you on his bedside table, among other things. His bed was unmade but dusty. He spotted a glimmer beyond the papers strewn across the floor. Curiosity led him to picking it up; it was a dog tag. He pocketed it before appearing back to the rest, shaking his head.

“Hey kid!” Tony hollered. “It’s Tony! With The Avengers?”

Silence.

Suddenly the front door re-opened with a force. The five heroes immediately got to a fighting stance.

“NYPD! Put your hands where I can see ‘em!”

The team sighed, half in relief and half disappointment. Upon realizing that the Avengers themselves were in front of them, the police officers lowered their weapon with faces full of questions.

“With all due respect,” one of them spoke nervously, “what are you guys doing here?”

“Our jurisdiction.” Tony snarked with sarcasm before going back to looking around the room.

“That man needs medical help.” Natasha stepped up to the officer, pointing at the body on the ground. “We don’t know who he is yet but we assume he’s bad so keep an eye on him.”

Steve rested his shield on his arm before picking up one of the framed pictures that looked the most recent before giving it to a different officer. “Look for this girl, she might be in danger. And injured.” It was one your father had taken of you only a few months before you last saw him, you had grown a little since then but Steve thought it should do.

“There might be no need for that,” Tony called. “One of the security cams across the street spotted a girl running away from this building, must be her.”

Steve nodded. “Let’s go.” And with that they were off, leaving the police to take care of the crime scene and culprit while they search for you with the guidance of FRIDAY.

----------------------

You finally decided you couldn’t run any further; your chest was heaving, your head was spinning, your back was killing you, and you’re pretty sure the man had sprained your arm. You stopped at an empty alley, a good block away from your building. You let your body slide down the wall to the concrete below you in exhaustion. You lifted your shirt up to see a purple bruise starting to form on your upper stomach. You raised your hand to wipe off the blood staining your face but only ended up spreading the red liquid everywhere before you limped, your muscles giving out. You sighed, turning your brain trying to find out how you were going to get out of this one.

Then you felt a presence to your left. Your instincts kicked in, grabbing the gun you had carried and aiming it to the figure.

“Wow, hey. Put that down.” The figure said, three more people emerging behind him. “It’s me.”

God damn the Avengers. You thought, lowering the gun in your hand. You let your head lull back to the wall behind you.

You heard a metal clink from your other side. “You’ll manage, huh?”

You couldn’t find the energy in you to return the attitude.

Tag list: @iamthescarlettwitch @sincerely-kizzy @ineedmorefanfics @moonyinthestars

I know this is very much long overdue, i hope you'll still enjoy it regardless xx

[clouditae]

First Love | 06

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing 

Word: 1.9k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You stand up from your seat, packing your notebooks and textbooks into your backpack. You decided to study outside on campus, wanting to feel the slight cool breeze. Zipping your backpack close, a cup of iced coffee is placed at your table. You look up at the person who placed the coffee on the table and you realize it’s Ari. 

You sigh, “I thought I said you don’t have to get me anything.”

She gives you a small frown. “I know,” she begins, picking the cup up again and holding it out towards you, “but I feel bad that I let this happen to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and I’m so mad that he came to our dorm.”

“Nothing happened,” you tell her, grabbing the iced coffee from her. 

“You have a bruise,” she counters. 

“I just bruise easily,” you mumble, taking a sip of coffee. You have no idea what it is, but Ari always knows how to pick the types of foods and drinks that fit your taste buds.

“Still, he caused that bruise and it’s my fault,” she argues, following you as you make your way towards the escalator that leads down to the second bus stop heading towards your dorm. 

You ride down the escalator, Ari behind you, shaking your head. “Well thank you. I need something to wake me up.”

“Where are you headed?” Ari asks you as the two of you get off and walk past the outdoor seating area where a few students sit at the tables eating their lunch. 

“I’m going to the shelter. I have to start my project so I can still be on track with my schedule,” you answer, walking up to the huge bus stop where a bus just took off. Thankfully it isn’t your bus. 

"Do you need a ride?"

"It's a twenty minute walk. I'll be fine."

"It's already late in the day. By the time you get out, the sun will be gone and you'll be walking back at night and that's dangerous," Ari comments, following you as the bus pulls forward and opens the doors. The two of you enter the bus, pressing your passes against the scanner before taking a seat closer to the middle of the bus. “At least let me pick you up from the shelter so you don’t have to walk. We can grab dinner and see a movie,” she bribes, clutching your arm as if you’re her boyfriend. 

“Fine,” you groan as the doors close and the bus takes its leave from the stop. And so for the rest of the ride to your dorms, you listen to Ari talk about her three day vacation with Hoseok. She’ll explain specific parts in more detail when the two of you are alone, and you’re not looking forward to it. 

After reaching your dorm and replacing your backpack with a bag holding a camera, pens and notebook, you grab your keys and earphones before heading out. “Call me when you’re ready!” Ari calls before the door closes behind you. 

Putting your earphones in, you walk past a group of friends as they walk up the stairs, forming a line so you can walk down. You can hear their laughs even over your music. Out the front doors, past the large group of people leaving the shuttle, you reach the sidewalk and make you way up towards the shelter. 

Five minutes into your walk, a figure appears next to you, walking beside you. You jump, one hand clutching your bag and the other over your chest. Yoongi doesn’t glance at you as he keeps up with your pace. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask him, rubbing your chest as if it will calm your racing heart. 

“Where are you going?” he counters, ignoring you completely. 

“I’m going to the animal shelter. Are you heading in this direction too?” you question, removing your earphones and placing them in your pocket.

“Did you forget?” He shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing at you briefly. 

“Forget what?” You think back to all your previous conversations, but nothing comes to mind that would relate to today. 

He sighs, “In order for me to help you find someone, I need to know what you’re like. Which means I have to actually see what you’re like. Which means you’re supposed to tell me when you’re going to do something.” 

You’re taken aback. “It’s just for a project,” you mumble. 

“A project shows how dedicated you are to school.” 

You look away, voice barely a whisper. “That’s a dumb reason.”

“What’d you say?” Yoongi questions.

“I-I said we’re here,” you stutter, pointing ahead to the shelter that is coming into view. You glance at Yoongi to see if he believes you, but with such a straight face, you can’t tell whether he believes you or not, or what he’s even thinking. 

The two of you walk up to the doors of the shelter, pictures of cats and dogs plastered on the windows as you get closer. When you enter the building, you’re met with the sounds of barking as someone enters the back room where all the dogs would be. The lobby is rather small, chairs to the right along the window, and tables full of blankets, pet toys and food to the left. Ahead of you is a long desk where three women sit; one on the phone, and two talking to one another. 

One of the women talking turns to look at you, a smile on her face as she asks, “Can I help you?”

You walk up to the desk. “I called about a week ago. I’m doing a project on sheltered animals.”

Her eyes light up in realization. “Oh, you must be Y/N.” You nod in relief, glad that they remembered your call. “You came just in time. Rory just finished his shift, so he’ll be able to tell you about some of the animals.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” you say, watching her as she picks up the phone to most likely call this Rory person. You take a seat at one of the chairs, forgetting Yoongi came with you until he takes a seat next to you. You try your best not to jump in surprise. So, as the two of you wait, you open your bag and do a double check to make sure you have everything you need. As you pull out your recorder, you hand it to Yoongi. He takes it in confusion. “Since you’re here, you can record the conversation while I take pictures.” 

“Y/N?” a voice calls out. You look towards the desk where a man stands. He’s an older gentleman, brown hair slowly turning gray, a blue shirt with the shelter's name on it, and black jeans. He smiles at you as you get to your feet. “Welcome. I’m Rory. We spoke on the phone last week?”

You shake his hand. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.” You gesture to Yoongi when Rory looks to him. “This is my partner. He’ll be recording the conversation if that’s all right.”

“Of course!” Rory chuckles, shaking Yoongi’s hand as well. “So I have a few pets all ready for us. If you’ll just follow me.” You follow Rory as the three of you walk back outside and around the building. “We will first go to the play area for the dogs and after that, we head towards the cats,” he informs as he opens the gate to an open area. 

You place your bag down and grab your camera, making sure everything is perfect just as a door opens and a puppy comes running out. You can’t help but gasp at the small golden colored pup. You’re so lost in how cute the puppy is, you forget the whole point in coming. It isn’t until you feel Yoongi nudge you, that you set your mind back to the main task. “Can you begin recording please?”

You take all sorts of pictures. Pictures of Charlie jumping, running around, licking Rory’s hand. You want to get every picture possible, and this continues with Rosie, the adult dog that comes next. She’s a happy dog—probably happy to see people and to socialize, but a very happy dog nonetheless. She follows commands and loves to play fetch. Then comes Jasper, the elder dog. He’s calm and not as energetic. Your heart sinks at the fact that he is still here. 

“Jasper was given to us when his owners moved countries. They couldn’t bring him with them. He’s trained and deaf, so using sign language is how you get him to sit and lay down,” Rory informs as Jasper walks over to Yoongi, who was sitting on the floor with the rest of you. You watch as Jasper lays down, resting his head on Yoongi’s lap. You pretend not to notice as you listen to Rory explain Jaspers situation. 

Eventually, you can’t help but turn your camera towards Yoongi. His attention is focused on Jasper fast asleep. He’s petting Jasper’s head, every now and then rubbing his ear. You take one picture and Yoongi’s attention is now on you. “I’ll crop you out,” you quickly explain, taking more pictures. 

You’ve never seen Yoongi act so… soft around anyone before. The way he looks at Jasper makes your heart race. He doesn’t have this straight face he always carries. He looks at Jasper like he loves him as his own pet. 

As the interview continues on, you move inside to where the cats are. You take many pictures of the cats walking around, playing with toys and sleeping. You can’t help but compare cats to Yoongi. They do what they want, and don't care what you say about it. You almost giggle at the thought of Yoongi being a cat asking for attention. 

By the time you’re done with the interviews, it’s already past seven. You pack up your stuff, thank Rory and everyone else, and head outside. The cool breeze hits you lightly as you step out with Yoongi. It seems it got colder since the last time you were outside.

“Thank you,” you begin, adjusting the strap to your bag, “for recording the conversation, and even asking more questions.” You feel embarrassed when you blank out on what questions to ask during the interview. Turns out you forgot your list of questions you had prepared for the interview. 

“Well what a coincidence,” a familiar voice booms. Turning your head, you see Hoseok and Ari standing by Hoseok’s car. “What are you two doing here?” he asks, clearly knowing what you’re doing here. Ari’s giving you a mischievous look. You look away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. 

“Work,” Yoongi replies bluntly. 

“Well since we’re all here, I’m getting hungry. How about we go out and eat? The four best friends,” Hoseok beams, getting straight to the point. 

“I’m good,” Yoongi says, but Hoseok doesn’t seem to hear him as he grabs Yoongi by the arm and practically drags him towards his car all while Yoongi lets out quiet complaints.

“Y/N, front and center!” Ari commands, causing you to jump and quickly walk up to her. She points to the back seat. “In.” 

You get in without uttering a complaint or questioning her. Yoongi is pushed into the seat next to you, not even complaining anymore. 

What just happened?

[gohyuck]

this is the teaser for part 2 of greaser jeno. read part 1 here 

warnings for the teaser: smoking, mentions of crimes, he blows smoke into the reader’s face because that was ‘sexy’ in the 1950s, talks about putting his cigarette out on the reader’s skin, they fuck in front of a mirror in the scene after this one <3

note: ‘L&M’ is a cigarette brand, when it talks about Jeno’s L&M it’s talking about his cigarette he’s currently smoking

teaser word count: 2.6k

estimated word count for part 2: 10-12k

estimated release date for part 2: january 5th

once again, read part 1 here!

“So you just… stole your neighbor’s cat?” You raise an eyebrow, keeping eye contact as best you can while taking a bite out of the slightly stale granola bar in your hand. Even with crumbs at the corner of your mouth, your impressed expression shines through. 

“The fuckface was beatin’ the poor thing,” Jeno shrugs, though you think you see a hint of a smile. “What else was I gonna do? Leave her there? Anyways, she was an aged thing. Ol’ girl died a couple years later, but they were some good years. Wrench was well loved.”

“You named your cat Wrench?!” The exclamation is more excited than you mean for it to be. Jeno really does smile this time, finally taking a bite out of his own granola-bar-dinner before nodding. He reaches a hand up to run it through his hair, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger on his razor sharp jawline, or the beautiful slope of his nose. By the time he looks back at you, you’ve turned your head away. 

“What about you?” He eventually asks, and you’re relieved at the fact that he’s even trying to maintain the conversation. Jeno’s always seemed untouchable, so his softer, maybe even kinder side is more than a little new to you. You feel like you’ve dug deep, and whether it’s on purpose or by accident, you’ve found something. 

He’s looking intently at you. You haven’t answered yet. 

“What about me?” 

“Any pets? Cats, dogs, fish… humans.” He smirks slightly, and you’re struck by the change in the Jeno who’d driven you here to the Jeno in front of you. Brooding versus almost… bright. Maybe even brash, it seems. The famed Jeno Lee with his Chuck Taylors and pocket knife. You wonder if he’s even still dwelling on the circumstances that have led the two of you to this moment. Sharing granola bars on the living room floor of the cabin had allowed it to slip from your own mind at first. 

You still haven’t answered, looking like you’re mulling his question over. It feels like you’ve waited just a little too long to answer, somehow. Jeno’s smile slips a little, gaze darts over to the nearest window for a second. His left hand taps out a rhythmic beat on his left thigh, and you remember that he’s got every right to be nervous.

“Well, I -” You start, only to be immediately interrupted. 

“Do you mind if I - oh, shit, sorry,” Jeno starts off strong, falling into a murmur quickly once he realizes that he’s cut you off. You give him what you hope is an encouraging smile - a signal to go on - and he returns an almost imperceptible nod. “Do you mind if I smoke while we talk? I don’t know if -”

“I don’t.” You cut him off, though by the way he looks at you right after, he’s grateful for you doing so. He nods, casting his eyes away from yours, busying himself with pulling out his cigarettes - L&M, judging by the packaging - and lighter. When had he finished his granola bar? You hadn’t noticed, but the wrapped is empty, crumpled at his feet. 

“We used to have a dog,” You start, thinking back to when you’d been young, barely in middle school. “Kevin. Big golden retriever, loved chicken and chasing bigger dogs during walks. He died a couple years ago, but I really do miss him constantly.”

“He sounds like he was wonderful,” Jeno mumbles, unlit L&M between his slightly pursed lips. You watch a little too intently as he flicks his lighter open, allows the flames to dance against the end of his cigarette. He puts the lighter away once he’s done, shoving it far into his front pocket. You suppose he doesn’t mind the heat against his skin. Jeno inhales roughly, and when he pulls the cigarette from his mouth to exhale smoke by positioning it in between his index and middle fingers, you finally notice how much he’s shaking. You don’t comment on it. He continues. “I have to ask, though… Kevin?” 

“Kevin,” You nod sagely, looking back up at his face even though your eyes seem to want to stay trained on the cigarette. “Johnny named him, I was a little too young to do it. As for human ‘pets’... Lucas, was one. Yangyang too. I had a brief thing for Jungwoo, too, but we ended up being far too... similar on some things it seemed necessary for us to be polar opposites on.” 

Neither you nor Jungwoo had wanted to take charge in bed, but Jeno doesn’t need to know that. Judging from the small eyebrow raise he affords you, though, he already has an idea. He says nothing, as if he’s waiting for you to go on, but you don’t really have much else to tell him. You don’t even know how much he wants to know. 

“You?” You settle for asking, though you don’t quite know why. Jeno’s sexual history had been practically broadcasted at school - you don’t look like that without repercussions. You know more about him than you need to, but maybe not as much as you want to. 

“Everyone knows who I’ve fucked.” Jeno chuckles, taking another drag from his cigarette. You lick your lips unconsciously when your gaze falls to his lips as he blows smoke out, away from you. It seems like the cigarette is making him less nervous, less shaky. Less tuned in to the fact that he’s currently on the run. “Yangyang, too. Lacey, Adrija, Katie, Yeonjun, Evan, Riley, Emma, Jess. That’s the list, I think. I wouldn’t call them pets - well, not all of them, at least - but… yeah. That’s the list.” 

“Yangyang, Lacey…” You mull them over out loud, going silent as you process the list. “Emma.. J- wait, Jess?”

Jeno winces. Takes another drag. Nods. 

“When did you - Jess, like, Jess and Johnny, Jess?” You sputter out the words, eyes widening slightly. Jeno lets out a sigh, breathes in and out again, and, finally, nods once more. From the way he’s acting, you don’t even have to ask about the timeline of him and Jess. 

Jess, who’s like an older sister to you, cheating on Johnny, your big brother - your big brother who’s a criminal, apparently - with Jeno, who Johnny’s framing for robbery and maybe a dozen other things right now. It’s like a poorly written Shakespearean comedy.

Maybe it’s a tragedy. You don’t know yet. 

“She loves him very much, she- she truly does. I’ve never seen Jess so damn happy with anyone before, and we’ve been friends since we were in diapers ‘n all that. I swear.” Jeno puts his hand out for a second as if he’s trying to prove something, but he draws back when he finds that there’s nothing to prove. You furrow your brow and squint at him, scrutinizing him for a moment, before sighing and turning away. 

“Finding out that my brother’s being cheated on by the only girlfriend of his I’ve ever liked is probably the least insane thing that’s happened to me today,” You ultimately say, and you swear you hear Jeno let out a soft exhale of relief at this. Even if you aren’t his ideal company, you’re company nonetheless. “I’ll live with it.”

He can’t say anything else to this, so he nods, looking a little more peaked than he had before. You suppose his inadvertent confession of what him and Jess have been up to bothers him more than he’s letting on. It bothers you more than it lets you on. 

It really is the least of your worries, though. You can’t help but analyze everything inside your mind: is Jeno telling the truth? Although you don’t know each other too well, you’re inclined to believe him. What will you do if he’s lied about everything and you really have essentially been kidnapped? No, that seems unlikely. On top of that, if Jeno’s truthful - and he seems to be - then Johnny’s far worse that you’d thought. Sure, you have your issues with your brother, but he’s still your brother. The idea that he’s so terrible is horrifying to you. You share a house with that man. 

If he’s capable of robbing the diner you work - worked? - at, putting Jaemin in the hospital, and framing in Jeno, all within a night, what else is he capable of? Has he always been like this? You’d always thought the Doyoung and Taeyong mess he’d gotten himself into years back had been what had changed him for the worse. What if your perceptions are incorrect? What if he’s always been terrible? What if… What if he’d framed those two boys back then? What if they were innocent?

Johnny wouldn’t do that, right? 

Right?

As you mull everything you’ve ever known over in your mind, only just beginning to process the situation you’re in, the conversation dies out, put out like a cigarette. Neither of you had bothered to close the curtains on any of the windows, so moonlight streams in, darkening shadows and shedding light on the two of you. It traces around his exposed biceps, his proud chin, the veins underneath his skin. Jeno always looks just a little out of this realm, but the silvery light against his skin paired with the smoke that’s curling in the air beside him both serve to make him seem even more untouchable. The Jeno you’ve always seen, but never touched. 

It’s only when he drops what’s left of the cigarette to the ground and lifts his leg up to crush the butt under the heel of his boot that you realize you haven’t been staring into space, but rather at Jeno’s L&M. If he’s noticed, he says nothing, only pulling his lighter and the packet out to light up yet another cigarette. The fact that he doesn’t ask this time is not ignored by you. 

Once he’s done lighting it and has taken a good drag from it, Jeno finally puts his lighter away again and looks up at you. His smile this time is apologetic, but you aren’t sure why. 

“You’ve been lookin’ at it all night,” He says, voice softer than you could’ve imagined coming from him. He gestures lightly with the cigarette before putting it back against his - admittedly plush looking - lips. “Wanna try?”

“I…” You blink a couple times, not sure why you’re so blindsided by the question. Maybe it’s the drop in his voice, the raspiness that comes with his lowered volume. Jeno’s one of the more respectful men - then boys - from your high school, but he still lives up to the reputation he’s got. A guy like Jeno Lee doesn’t ask you to try a cigarette with him for no reason. 

To be fair, who else is he gonna ask right now?

When you don’t answer outright, Jeno smiles slightly. He isn’t shaking anymore, you notice, but you think you might be. Funny how the night changes. The man in front of you takes another drag, leans in ever-so-slightly, and blows his smoke gently towards you. It’s practiced, precise: he doesn’t go directly for your nose, or your mouth. The smoke and the air tickle the side of your face, and the sensation almost makes you forget how close Jeno suddenly is to you. 

He knows he has the upper hand, likely because he’s just created said upper hand. You can’t say you don’t like it. You don’t lean away.

“Classy, Jeno Lee,” You muster up the ability to speak. His lips are still by your cheek. His breath is warm against your skin, but it doesn’t disgust you in the way you feel like it should. “You could be going to prison soon and you’re still trying to get your dick wet.”

It’s a harsh thing to say, but you know that you could say anything in the moment and he wouldn’t take it to heart. The push and pull you’ve been wanting since high school is there. Jeno leans back, takes another drag and blows up rather than at you again, seemingly marvelling at the way the tendrils of smoke dance and then disappear, dispersing around the two of you. The newfound tension should feel sudden, but you think that it might’ve been coming since he’d discovered you in the Bel Air’s backseat. 

Now that you’ve hidden him away at the cabin, anything could happen. Tomorrow, Jeno could drop you off at some gas station or bus stop and drive away forever, running away from a past that is chasing him at double the speed. Tomorrow, you could turn him in for the car theft. You’re sure that’s what he’s thinking, anyways. Jeno shifts so his empty hand is in front of him, so he can put his weight on it to get right back up close and personal to you. 

“I always did like when you wore these skirts to school,” He ignores your statement entirely, dark eyes flitting down to your bare legs. “Never said anything ‘bout it because I’m nothin’ if not respectful. That, and your brother would’ve killed me if I’d tried to get at you.”

“My brother’s not around right now.” You say, and the lilt of your voice makes it seem like you’re posing a challenge. Maybe you are. To be entirely fair, you aren’t thinking too straight, but you blame that on the fact that you’re aiding and abetting a fugitive who happens to, at least at the moment, seem almost like sex on legs. Jeno’d looked so scared and afraid earlier at the gas station. When had that changed? 

The Jeno across from you is cocksure, hands steady even when they hadn’t been minutes ago. Perhaps the gravity of his situation has finally hit. He’s either not thinking at all, or he’s thinking the clearest he has all night. 

“No,” Jeno agrees, finally, finally placing a hand on your bare thigh, right above your knee and right at where your skirt has ridden up. “No, he isn’t. It’s just us tonight, princess, isn’t it?” 

“You’ve done a whole 360,” You respond, not shying away from his touch. His hand is so warm against your skin. You want Jeno to engulf you. “Why’s that?” 

“Could be going to prison soon,” He shrugs, and his eyes darken with something unreadable. Something almost… sad. Jeno ignores himself, explaining further, voice teasing. “Might as well get my dick wet.”

It hits you then, his real reasoning. Before thinking, you place your hand on top of his, gentle, as kind as you can muster. 

“You want to use me to forget?” You ask, your touch imploring that his eyes seek yours out. They do, and when you look into them, you know that you’re right. He’s left his entire life behind because of your brother. Of course he needs some use from you. Jeno stares at you staring at him for one, two beats before looking away. He doesn’t respond, but you don’t need him to. 

“How do you feel about me putting my cigarette out on you? Ash against your pretty skin?” He asks, voice sultry but guarded. You wonder if this is how he seduced everyone on his list. You only have tonight. Neither of you know what tomorrow could bring. You move your hand off of his, only to slowly pull your skirt higher along your thigh. Jeno’s eyes follow the new path of exposed skin, hungry for something you could never comprehend.

“Pick anywhere,” Your words are barely above a whisper now. “After all, you’re in charge.”

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 34

chapter list / previous / next

Recovery did come, slow as it was. Some days later, Talltail sat by the big glass window. Jake was curled up pressed against his side, snoring loudly. It still felt a bit strange that the kittypet didn’t have even a small qualm about letting a stranger into his home, and treating him as though they were clanmates their whole lives. Talltail certainly didn’t dislike it. It felt safer than sleeping alone, and even if the water the twoleg put down had an unpleasant metallic tang to it, at least he could be sure it wasn’t going to kill him. 

Another oddity he’d found in the den was the twoleg sometimes lit a small fire inside at night, in a little stone cavern in the sitting room, and somehow kept it contained. It was more than a little frightening at first, but also incredibly warm. It was his first sight of real fire. Talltail couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the rare opportunity to closely watch such a dangerous unpredictable thing, feared by all the clans, without having to worry.

 But that was about where the benefits stopped.

In the couple days he’d been there, he had also suffered getting slobbered on by a dog multiple times, and the twoleg constantly trying to stroke his fur. Once it had made the mistake of trying to pick him up, but Talltail had quickly made it clear that was not going to fly. He also had to deal with letting it take on and off the uncomfortable soft wraps and smearing his cuts with a foul smelling goo. The twolegs paws where clumsy and shaky. It made him long for Briarpaw’s much more gentle touch. I will never complain of the smell of herbs again, Talltail thought. Not that he’d get the chance either way. But however unpleasant it felt, he suffered captivity with as much dignity as he could manage. And his wounds did feel a bit better.

The twoleg came up behind them and crouched down, making strange high pitched noises at Talltail, a sound he noticed the twoleg only made at cats. Talltail ignored it, tail lashing when it had the nerve to start touching his back. He turned slowly with a searing glare.

“You are an ugly hairless lumbering fool. You smell of fox-dung. I’d rather sleep in the dirt place than breathe in your stench.”

The twoleg made a pleased crooning sound and went on stroking his fur. 

Talltail continued, “you have a kits’ senses and wouldn’t be able to find your own stupid ugly nose even though it’s attached to your face. You are lower than a worm, and I despise you and everything you stand for. You are too flea-brained to understand a word I’m saying, aren’t you?”

The twoleg meowed back at him. It sounded like garbled nonsense.

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?”

The twoleg meowed again. 

Talltail bit its paw.

Jake snored himself awake while Talltail still held one of its long digits in his jaws. 

“Are you getting along?” he yawned.

Talltail spit out the paw and the twoleg made an amused sound and lumbered away. “We are getting along great,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. You’ve only bit him five times so far, that’s much better than the last cat he tried to take in,” Jake purred.

“Your twoleg does not take hints very well.” Talltail replied, ears flat in annoyance.

“Well I never claimed he was wise. He’s really very fond of you though.”

“Then he truly isn’t wise at all."

Jake yawned and stretched “How’s your brooding going? Anything go by outside?”

“Nothing more than some birds,” Talltail sighed.

“Oh!” Jake said suddenly. “I forgot to mention...I had an idea about what you can do. My friend Nutmeg has seen lots of strays go through here in the past moons. There’s a chance the cats you're looking for were among them.”

“You forgot to mention that?”

“In my defense, there’s been a lot of other things to think about.”

“In which case,” Talltail stood. “I think I have stayed here long enough. My cuts aren’t bad. I can manage on my own without that terrible goo.

He expected Jake to argue, but instead he nodded. “I’d never expect you to stay in a house like this, even I find it a little cramped sometimes. A promise is a promise. Follow my lead and you can sneak out.”

Jake took a couple paces towards where the twoleg was sitting and let out a very loud yowl.

 “Hey! Time to open the door!”

 Eventually the twoleg grumbled, stood up slowly on creaking limbs, and shambled over to the side door. He looked down at Talltail and tried to nudge him back with his long hind leg. Talltail let out a small hiss. Who does it think it is, pushing me? 

Jake winked at Talltail. “Just be casual. Act like you don’t care.”

Talltail pretended like he was busy grooming his chest fur. As soon as the door was open, Talltail shot out faster than a hare, across the yard, and clammered through a gap in the fence. Jake squeezed after him a heartbeat later. The twoleg made a hooting sound, but Talltail was already out of sight.

He huffed in the fresh air as soon as he set paws on grass. Never had he been so relieved to feel it.

With a contented sigh of relief, he turned to dip his head to Jake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll think of you often for being so kind to me. You’ve more than repaid your debt.” 

Jake blinked at him. “It wasn’t just to repay a debt! And I want to go with you.”

 Talltail stared. “G-go with me? This could be really dangerous. I may not like your home, but you're safe here. Where I’m going isn’t, and who knows how long it will take. Do you even know how to fight?”

Jake puffed out his chest “I’ve been in a fight! I got into a tussle with an old stray once, sort of by accident, but I held my ground! See this scar on my ear?”

He turned his head to show off the very, very small nick in his right ear.

When Talltail didn’t respond, Jake gave a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Well, all right. I can’t make you take me. But be careful of the neighbor dogs. And the alley cats. And the rude twolegs. And the cars. The paths and alleyways can get really confusing if you don’t follow them all correctly, and you can end up turned around and running nose first into all kinds of danger. You know where to watch out for all of that, right?”

He was giving Talltail a very pointed look as he spoke. Talltail flicked his long tail in annoyance, but couldn't help looking out at the town with unease. This place was unfamiliar and completely strange to him, not anything his warrior training had prepared him for. Obviously, because warriors aren’t supposed to come out this far in the first place. 

It was hard to admit to himself after he’d been so determined to do this on his own that weaving through this loud foul smelling town made him nervous, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Jake had an amused glint in his eyes. “I know you’re on a super important mission, but if you want to accept this 'kittypets' help, I'd love to show you around.”

 Talltail eventually had no choice but to accept that maybe he did need a guide. For a little while at least.

Jake perked up immediately. “Great! Then I’ll take you to see my friend Nutmeg. You guys seem like you're a similar breed of paranoid, maybe you’ll get along. You can describe those cats to her, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

 Talltail still wasn’t sure about this. He felt deep down that he really did want Jake’s company, remembering a time when it felt like such a relief to go see him. And he didn’t realize until after he left WindClan how empty it would feel to be completely alone for so long. But at least unlike back then, he didn’t have to feel guilty about seeing Jake because it was no longer a simple excuse to get away from his clan duties. But still... I came out this far because I needed to do this on my own, didn’t I? Why should another cat be bogged down with it?  

“This could take a while, Jake,” Talltail warned again as they walked. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?”

Jake’s eyes smiled brightly in the greenleaf sunlight. “I assure you, I have absolutely nothing better to be doing.”

***

Talltail followed Jake, leaping down off the fence into Nutmeg’s yard.

“Wait here, I know how to get her attention,” Jake said, trotting up to a tall glass opening in the nest. He began pawing at the window until a disgruntled looking tortoiseshell poked her head through an opening flap. 

Nutmeg pushed her way into the yard and regarded Jake suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. Is that weirdo still in your house?”

“Actually he’s in your garden.” Jake replied.

Nutmeg’s eyes bulged as she had apparently only just noticed Talltail sitting with his tail wrapped tightly around himself, trying not to look awkward.

“Um. Hi.” Talltail said.

The bristling tortoiseshell flicked her gaze from him back to Jake, not hiding her obvious unease. “Ah. I see.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like strangers in your garden, but I promise we’ll be gone quick. We just wanted to ask about the cats you’ve seen.” Jake looked back at Talltail. “Nutmeg keeps tabs on all the cats in the area, she sees everyone that goes by. Spying is like, her main hobby.”

“I am not spying, it’s a matter of safety. When I see dangerous looking strangers, the cats that go outside ought to know.” Nutmeg’s tail lashed and Talltail knew she was clearly still unhappy about him being there. He remembered suddenly, now that he’d caught her scent, that she was almost certainly one of the kittypets he had frightened not long after arriving.

“Right I'm er...sorry for scaring you before, I suppose.” Talltail muttered. Nutmeg simply flicked her tail in vague acknowledgement.

 Jake nudged her and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I'm sorry for calling you weird.” She then added, quieter, “but what exactly am I supposed to think when a big stranger shows up covered in blood and talking to himself?”

“Anyway,” Jake interrupted before Talltail could respond, “his name is Talltail and we’re going on a quest to find a group of strays.”

“‘We’?” Nutmeg stared at Jake. "Why are you going?"

“Yes we, because we’re friends and I’m a good guide.” Jake retorted. Nutmeg looked very doubtful, which made Talltail a bit nervous. He hoped Jake wasn’t exaggerating his navigation knowledge, but it was too late to turn him down now.

“Well…” Nutmeg hesitated, “A lot of strays have passed by here. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Talltail did his best to describe the five cats. “The only one I need to find is the smallest of them, dark brown almost black, sort of long messy fur, one ear tip sliced off. His eyes are two different colors. Looks obnoxiously aloof all the time. It would have been a couple moons ago.”

“A couple moons ago, that’s not encouraging.” Nutmeg said. “But surprisingly, I think I know who you mean. They’d passed by here before. Made themselves very known, weird bunch, too friendly for their own good if you ask me. I remember because it was a little before I met Jake. Before him, they were some of the oddest cats I’d ever seen. And before you I guess. They stopped to talk to Quince, I think they mentioned something about staying in the big wooded park in the center of town. It’s supposed to be a big area with no cars, and there’s lots of food, and apparently housefolk will feed you too if you know the right ones to ask. I overheard them saying were going to stop traveling for a bit, I guess they just had a loss or something. Mind you, that was some moons ago, I don’t know if they’re still there, but that’s what they said last I saw them.” 

“Wow you remember all that? You’re positive?” Talltail asked.

Nutmeg sniffed, as if she were offended. “Of course I’m sure! I’m sure of every cat I see, especially weird ones.”

“Alright, alright. Do you know where this park is?” Talltail pressed.

“Um...well no, I have no need to go that far outside my house myself.”

“I think I know!” Jake piped up, “I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen it from a distance. We just have to cut through some alleyways to avoid the cars.”

“If you think it’s safe to do that…” Nutmeg narrowed her eyes, “Not every stray likes you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I know exactly where I'm going.” Jake nudged Talltail “See, aren’t you glad you have me?”

“Sure. We should get going though. Thanks for your help. As a reward, I promise never to come into your garden again.”

She snorted. “Actually, as my reward, you can try to keep Jake from doing anything fluff-brained.”

“I never do anything fluff-brained!” Jake purred as he turned with a flick of his tail. “Come on, no time to waste.” 

He scampered back up the fence and beckoned Talltail to join him. Jake was far too excited about the grim mission, and Talltail was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about not giving him all the details. “You’re only going with me a little ways,” Talltail reminded him quickly. “Just to the park. Then I have to continue on my own.”

“Sure, sure, but let's get going! You’ve never seen a town before, I remember how intense it felt the first time I saw it, I’ve got so much to teach you!”

Talltail allowed himself a small purr of amusement. There was still a distance to go. No need to be a drag the entire way when Jake was being so helpful, right? As long as he didn’t slow down.

chapter list / previous / next

[sideblogformindtrash]

Unmmm.. ... could we see sunshine being interrogated by either a whumper cop or caretaker cop?? Dealers choice??? 👀🥺🥺🥺

Sunshine -q

I hope all the years watching Criminal Minds and law and order pay off. 

CW: Interrogation scene; cop whumper(quite mild tbh he just a jackass); death mention; police custody; anxiety; dehumanization; thirsty/starvation; psychological pressure; past abuse mention; conditioning; cage;  fear of punishment; pet whump;

 …The room is cold. His heavy collar is attached to a metal table. He has been left here for a while. They left a bottle of water on the table, and his throat is dry… But he can’t have it. It’s there, tempting him, but he wasn’t given permission.

Honestly, he is glad to be alone. All those people, the noise… He was yanked outside of his home, stuffed into a car and driven here. And the worst part is, he doesn’t know if he will be allowed to go home.

He doesn’t know if he has a home anymore.

He scrubbed those tiles until his hands couldn’t anymore… And it wasn’t enough. It was still dirty and red…

And Miss Abby didn’t wake up.

She would never wake up.

…He cleaned a tear. He wasn’t allowed to cry.

The heavy door opened, a man in uniform entered, carrying some files. He pulled the chair, the loud screeching sound made him flinch. He kept his eyes down.

“Sunflower, it that correct?” The cop says, not really looking at him.

“Yes, Sir” he licks his lips, hoping they get a little less dry. He hoped he would be allowed some water soon.

“Alright then, Sunflower. Let’s recall the events of that night” the man leans against the chair, tapping the back of a pen against the clipboard “Tell me everything you can remember”

…He opens his mouth, closes it, shakes his head.

“P-please don’t… Sir… Please… I’ll be good… I… I can’t, can’t…”

“You have to” Angry, demanding voice. Sunflower whimpers, recoiling “It’s on your own best interest to collaborate with our investigation, Pet.”

“Sir…”

“Speak. What happened?”

He bites back the sobs. He eyes at the water… It would help him swallow the tears, but the cop ignores his looks. He doesn’t have the courage to plea with words.

“…I… I was… at my cage”

“Sleeping?”

“No!” He shakes his head desperately “Not allowed. I was good, I swear. I didn’t sleep”

…The cop raises an eyebrow and writes it down.

“So you were awake all along?”

“Yes! I was good. Please”

“…Right. Keep going”

“Hm…  There were noises”

“What noises, Sunflower?” the man sighed, seeming annoyed.

“Things falling and breaking… And… Mr Abby screamed…”

The cop notes that down.

“Didn’t you think of checking?”

He hugs himself, pressing further against the chair. He doesn’t even like sitting on one but they ordered him to.

“I can only leave my cage if, if Miss Abby allow…”

“But you left anyway”

He flinches. He did, he left, he was bad and disobeyed.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry, I was just scared, I can’t, I-“

“Shut up” The man snaps. He isn’t allowed to cry, but a tear falls anyway “Why took you so long to leave the cage? And why you did?”

Sunflower doesn’t answer. He looks down at his hands, bandaged now. Some woman wrapped them for him, and gave him water. He wants water now. It’s there, right there, but he wasn’t allowed…

“I made you a question”

“S-s-sorry” he whimpered, snapping back “Sorry”

“…Alright. Why didn’t you leave the cage when you heard noises?”

“Not… Not allowed” he repeated.

“But the situation was unusual, wasn’t it?” the cop pressured “Didn’t you think you might need to check? Tell me what were you thinking”

“…I… I thought it could be a test, Sir”

“A test?”

He nodded. The man kept scribbling, then leaned forward. Too close.

“She… Sometimes did things to see… If I would obey and… And I thought… She was testing me”

“Then why did you leave the cage later?”

“…T-the door”

“What does that mean?”

… Angry. The man was angry, towering over him. He whimpered. Was he going to be punished now, because he left the cage?  He was bad, he knew. But…

“…B-b-back door It, it creaks a little” he whimpered “And… all was quiet after that…”

“Just the back door? That’s all you heard?”  The cop exhaled, even more annoyed than before “Come on. Use you pretty head Pet. You aren’t giving me a lot to work with”

…He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to recall that. Bad night. A tear fell down over his  hands. He was being bad, even now.

“…Ah… The neighbors… They… Their car… and dog… Dog barking”

…The man leaned back on the chair. Sunflower was glad, he didn’t like the cop to be close.

“Alright. Then, you decided to check, correct?”

“Yes… It… Was too quiet” he whimpered “And Miss… Miss didn’t close the door. Didn’t went upstairs… She was sleeping on the floor”

“…But she wasn’t sleeping now, was she, Pet?”

“Sleeping… But wouldn’t wake up”

“Dying. She was dying pet. Didn’t you think of helping her?”

“Blood” he whimpered. He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and started to sob.

“What is it, Pet?”

“S-s-she… Was, was red... –b-blood” he whimpered again “W-wouldn’t wake up… W-w-wouldn’t…”

‘You didn’t call anyone Sunflower? DIdn’t try and ask for help?”

“C-c-can’t… Not allowed…”

“It was obvious your Mistress needed it, Sunflower. You failed her”

“N-n-no…. I… Not allowed to… To call… Or… Didn’t… Didn’t  know how…”

“Was she mean to you, Sunflower? You have quite a collection of bruises”

The pet raises his eyes slowly, trembling. The man is smiling now, maliciously.

“She… She was my Master, my owner. I, I j-just wanted to see her happy”

“Happy? Yet you didn’t try to help her when she needed you?”

“S-s-sorry” his voice was just a low squeak at this point. It was… It was his fault? He should’ve done something. He should! But… But he wasn’t allowed. He was at the cage, and Mistress would’ve been so mad…

“Did you want her to die, maybe?” He didn’t! He would never want for that. He just, just didn’t want to get hurt, to be a bad pet and disobey, he just wanted to be good! He couldn’t speak, the sobs chocking his words… “Is that why you didn’t call for help? Because you were actually glad she was gone, Pet? Because you wanted her to-“

“Enough!”

Both turn. Another person entering the room, dressed in suit and tie, carrying even more folders and paper. They pull the other chair, and Sunflower flinches again.

“I’m Dr. Smith, I’m here representing the Pet- Excuse me, Sunflower’s case” the person smiles at him, way more sympathetic than the cop. Sunflower doesn’t like people… Not at all. But this time, he is glad he is no longer alone “Sunflower, you don’t have to answer anything without talking to me first. I’ll handle the questioning, alright?”

He quietly nodded. Does… does that mean he doesn’t need to speak anymore?

“It appears you’ve been trying to coerce information out of my client” they speak directly to the cop, who folds their arms sighs.

“I want just politely asking your client why he didn’t call for help”

…Sunflower opens his mouth to answer again, but the attorney silences him with a gesture.

“Simply because he is a Pet. They aren’t trained to deal with situations like that. In fact, if anything, they are trained to ignore the common sense” Dr. Smith smiles, looking at him “Sunflower, dear, you are allowed to have that water”

“T-t-thank you” he whimpers, relieved washing over him. He takes the bottle, nervously.

“…Yes, you may drink it from the bottle. Is alright”

The cop raises an eyebrow. Sunflower doesn’t even care, he is just glad he can drink – push back the tears a little, and soothe his dry throat.

“See?” The attorney says “It’s obvious you aren’t prepared to handle Pets”

…The cop scribbles that too. Sunflower holds onto the bottle, nearly empty now. He doesn’t want to put it back on the table, doesn’t want it taken away again. He chews on the lid, nervously, the tension between the two other people growing.

“Right” the cop sighed “You client was found cleaning the crime scene. Any evidence we could have gathered from there is now contaminated”

“My client has little understanding of how investigations go. He was cleaning because” the attorney fumbled through the files “…It seems here Miss Abby has a history of compulsive behavior, mostly regarding cleaning. She has even talked about it in some of her own videos. It’s not a surprise her Pet was trained to clean. If anyone is to blame for this, is the training company responsible for his conditioning, which did not gave him adequate tools to navigate a situation like this”

The cop rolled his eyes.

“…Do you know how long it was before someone else found you, Sunflower?”

He shot a nervous glance at the attorney.

“You can answer this one, if you know”

“…An… Was… Was morning. The neighbor dog wouldn’t stop barking… Not since… night”

“Right. That’s what the neighbors told us. They came to check why the dog wouldn’t calm down and found the back door to Abby’s house was open” The cop sighed “…You didn’t see the person at all, that’s right?”

…Sunflower just nodded.

The cop got up, the chair noise making him flinch yet again.

“…Dismissed. For now.”

The cop left leaving him alone with the attorney. They had a sympathetic smile.

“…Don’t worry, I’m sure you are a good boy Sunflower”

“…Good?” he asked, incredulous “M-miss Abby… What… what happens now?”

“…First, we need to handle the criminal case. You’ll have to collaborate with me, but if you are a good pet and help me understand what happened, I’ll handle the rest” the person had a kind smile. He wasn’t sure he believed it “You are in custody of the estate for now”

“And… after…?”

“It depends a lot of how things play out. But I’m sure it will go well. We will find you a nice, kind new owner afterwards” Dr. Smith gently tapped at his shoulder “Now… I need you to tell me what went on. Don’t worry, you are not in trouble, I just need to know”

“N-not a-a-again… Please…” He whimpered… A head pat. Soft. He peeked up.

“I know it’s stressful, Sun. But you are a good boy, aren’t you?” he nodded. He wanted to be a good boy, at least “…You can take your time too, okay? Just try and tell me everything”

…He took a deep breath, wanting to cry. He would have to go through it all… Again. He just wanted to go home. But he didn’t have a home anymore.

…The attorney put something on the table. A cereal bar.

“Go ahead, you can have it. I know it’s stressful” they smiled “But I’m here to help. So let’s work together, okay?”

…He nodded. He picked up the thing, slowly chewing. It was good but… He wasn’t really hungry. He felt nauseous still, the imagery of the night playing over and over on his head.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Fall Is Dick Riding Season

A commission for someone who does not want to be tagged. GN reader/Bloodhound for the one post of ‘It’s fall, which means it’s riding someone’s dick in their hoodie weather’.

Reblogs > Likes. It cost zero dollars to Reblog fics you like :D

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bloodhound/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, werewolf strap makes a come back which means KNOTTING, biting, bruising, feral Bloodhound, Bloodhound having their signature oral fixation, uhhh piercings?, Reader is gender neutral but explicitly written with a vulva!

Words: 2.8K

_________________

When autumn comes, it comes in slow like most seasons on this planet. The Apex arena changes beautiful colors, the normal green tones turning into warm oranges and yellows. The Leviathans that called the arena home didn’t seem bugged by the colder weather, happily chewing on the trees that changed color and not putting up a fuss.

When fall comes, it means that the legends have a month to relax. The season wouldn’t start back up until early spring so the wildlife would be just as lively and itching to go as the legends. However, this meant that your partner, Bloodhound, was itching for something to hunt after.

You didn’t blame them. They weren’t made for the domestic and quiet life. They preferred an active role. The games brought them a sense of accomplishment, both for their gods they worshiped and for themselves. Quite often you’d be left with one raven, whichever one was up for the arena that day went with Bloodhound, and know if they were having a good game or a bad depending on how the second raven reacted.

But, of course, when autumn comes, it means downtime.  

~Rest under the cut~

The first few days are nice. Bloodhound doesn’t stay in the dorms and instead comes home to the little cottage deep in the woods you two shared. Munnin and Arthur greet you as usual by latching onto your shoulders and fighting over who gets to be held like a baby first. But, not before you’re able to see Bloodhound tug off their mask and helmet. Approaching to kiss you softly with full, chapped lips and murmur against you adoringly in greeting of; “Hello, beloved.”

Once it finally starts getting cooler out, you open up the windows much to the ravens’ delights. But, much to your own dismay, Bloodhound starts to feel cooped up at home. Kissing you one morning and telling you that they won’t be gone long, that the Allfather wills their hands elsewhere.

And as always, you nod understandingly and sigh as they part from you with a loving rest of your foreheads together and their gloved hands brushing your waist.

That was five days ago they set out. Arthur was left behind this go around, settling down on the window sills or going about his own business. He demands cuddles quite often and treats you don’t let him have (except a few under the table that ‘slip’ from your grasp), but otherwise he provides nice enough company.

You get lonely on day five. Already itching for their company yesterday so you’d taken to raiding their closet.

You do it again today with less worry of it, tugging on one of their older, cozier hoodies. It’s big even on them and reaches mid-thigh for you. Black with the Apex logo on the back as you lift the collar and inhale their scent. Much to your delight they must have worn it a couple of times before deciding it was still clean and putting it away again.

To try and distract yourself from missing them, you have soon set out on your shared bed. Tucking your body against the window that you had open with the curtains pulled back. Letting air flow run throughout the room in a small, chilly breeze that caresses your bare legs that rub against the many furs underneath you.

You huff a bit as you lie down, settling on reading a book and trying to keep your eyes focused on it. Tucking the collar of the hoodie up to your nose to inhale the scent of it as you read.

Bloodhound always smelled good, similar to pine and something akin to violets and cinnamon. You smile at the thought, tugging the collar closer and sighing against it.

You think of them with a lazy, growing smile. Their red curls had been getting longer, about mid-back now and getting a bit less tame. You think about the way their lips feel on yours, softly molding and sharp teeth capturing your bottom lip. How their hands, rough and calloused from their hunts caress your hips as soft as ever to drag you closer. Hungry growls out of their throat if you press closer to them to fit your hips-

Your breathing is getting heavier, eyes fluttering as you let the book fall from your grip and off the bedside. You try to settle down, resting your hand on your abdomen and drumming there. However, your mind is hungry for it.

And what’s the matter with indulging anyway? They weren’t here- and if they were, you’re sure they wouldn’t mind you indulging IN them as well.

Your hand sneaks down, pulling the hoodie up and teasing at the edges of your underwear. You do as they would, toying with yourself as you rub at the slit of your heat through your panties. Tracing upwards and applying just enough pressure over your clit.

Your breath hitches and your head tilts to the side, biting your bottom lip as another breeze runs through the room and reminds you that you’re doing this right in front of an open window. Truly, that part didn’t matter, your home was far too into the woods to worry about neighbors. But, gods know if Arthur popped his little head in you’d feel mortified.

That is, until you hear the front door open and hear tell-tales boots. Your eyes snap open, pulling your hands away from yourself and perking up.

In no time you’re prodding down the steps, far more interesting in seeing your partner than jacking off. Peeking around the corner to see them pulling off their helmet. Shaking their long braid free as some curls frame and curl onto their face.

The steps creak as you take the next one, and their head shoots up to look at you. Eyes tired, but their singular good one trained on you like the predator they are.

“Is that my clothing?” They tease, a smile on their lips already as you smile sheepishly back. Bare feet padding on the ground as you reach them, wrapping your arms around their shoulders so they may do the same to your waist. They bury their nose into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent. You know they can smell it with the way they grip at your firmer.

You hear the edge of a growl and just about laugh as they try to pull a bit away, but you tug them closer. Urging them to tilt their head with your hand laced at the braid at the nape of their neck, pulling so you can kiss at the now exposed flesh.

“Elskan-” Their voice warns, and you hum in response. Letting your teeth catch their pierced lobe before kissing down their neck and nibbling over their pulse point.

Their claw-like nails dig at your hips through their gloves and you make a playful sound in reply.

“I can do the work,” You insist, voice low as you suck a hickey against their neck just to hear their breath hitch. “You don’t have to do anything. Just lie there and enjoy the view.”

“Tempting,” They breathe out, shuddering when your tongue flicks over the bruise blossoming on a peachy patch on their darker flesh. “Would you still wear this?” They murmur, letting their own hands gently tug at the hoodie.  

You hum in affirmation and let your hand drop to toy at the bottom of their few layers of shirts. Parting your lips so you can nip just beneath their ear. “As long as you aren’t wearing any of this in return.”

--

The journey to the bedroom is quick and hurried with your insistence. Bloodhound laughs at you as you help them out of their clothing, at least down to their tight muscle tank and boy shorts. They insist you keep wearing the hoodie again, as you dig around for one of their strap ons.

You don’t even realize which one you have in hand. Just helping them pull on the boy short-like harness and fitting the cock through. That is, until you recognize the bright red visage of said cock.

It’s one they very much enjoyed. Themed after a werewolf, a beast fit for someone like Bloodhound. It’s rather large, seven inches long not including the knot and as thick as three of your fingers. The knot was about baseball size and the ability to attach a syringe to the underside of it to fill with cum lube. Depending on if you wanted to get stuffed full more than with just a knot.

You swallow thickly and think about your decisions briefly as you lube it up. Making a show of jacking them off and applying extra lube as you tuck your now lubed up fingers under yourself. But before you can even get to do that, Bloodhound is pawing for you.

“None of that, my love. I can do this much for you.” Their voice is soft and adoring as you nod your head quickly. Letting them urge you up onto them, straddling either side of their head and pulling the hoodie up and over your chest. You hold it there with one hand, the other resting on the top of their head.

If there was one thing that was certain, it was that Bloodhound loved giving oral. Proof as their eyes flutter open half lidded, peering through thick lashes up at you as their mouth opens. Their pierced tongue licking from hole to clit and nosing at you afterwards.

They moan against you at the same time you whine. Bloodhound, for finally being able to taste you. You, for finally getting the stimulation you wanted.

Their clawed hands come up and over your thighs, locking you in place and digging the points into your flesh. Idly, you scritch at the top of their head and breathe out, “Good dog.” More on instinct than anything, but it makes their eyes flash dangerously. Their slit pupil widening as they lap at your clit hungrily.

It isn’t long before your grip in their hair is now two handed. Riding their face and eagerly moaning when their tongue presses into you. Their nose against your clit and their eyes closed, looking like they’re enjoying a meal intensely with the way they whine into you.

Eventually you’re begging, pulling at their hair and grinding your hips messily against their face. Bloodhound moves with you, gripping your thighs tight so you hold still and moaning low when you yank at their hair. They focus their tongue on licking feverishly against your clit until you’re cumming with a weak cry and small jerks of your hips.

Kitten licks are left on your clit as you shake and try to push at their head. “H-Hound- no, please- want to ride you- can't if y-you- you- you-” You try to sob out, but get cut off by your own high-pitched cry when Bloodhound licks at your slick hole, getting every bit they could out of you.

Greedy bastard.

With a few more begs and a few more pushes, they let you off. Allowing you to straddle their hips so you can finally catch how they look at you. Hungry eyes trained on your body, their lips shiny and wet, matching their chin before they wipe their mouth off on the back of their hand.  

They briefly flash you canines as they laugh at you. “Well? Come, show me what you have been waiting for since I have left, pretty one.” They coo towards the end as they gently tug at your hips with a relaxed stance about them. As if they were royalty and you were the entertainment.

They don’t rush you as you settle onto their cock. Easing the first few inches into yourself with a mewl. Your body is relaxed and certainly wet enough for it from Bloodhound’s talented tongue.

It takes a moment or two longer than you intend before the rim of your cunt is pressed to the larger beginnings of the knot. Stuffed full already as your arms shake, pressed to either side of Bloodhound’s head as you try to get your bearings.

“Too big?” They almost take a mock cooing tone for you. Bloodhound’s hands caressing underneath the hoodie to brush at your hips and sides, gently squeezing at the softness around your middle in appreciation.

You shake your head, huffing through your nose as you adjust to the size. Making a show of lifting your hips up and pressing back down with a choked breath and bowing your head at the sensation.

Goddamn it.

You can feel them grinning at you as your arms shake. But, determined as ever to get what you wanted and let them rest, you begin riding them in earnest. Pulling your body back up to grab behind you at their toned thighs. You let your head fall back, shamelessly whining as your cunt is stretched around the size of the cock again and again with each rock of your hips.

You can feel their gaze on you. Intense and predatory as their nails dig into your hips. They gently pull at you, urging you to ride them faster, just a little harder. Just to watch you struggle as your body twitches and your fingers grip tighter at their thighs.

They watch you with an intensity of a starving wolf. Seeing how your neck strains, how they can watch your pulse from here. Oh, how your body curves so beautifully- and they swear if they move their hand to your lower abdomen they can feel the thickness of the cock inside you-

It’s all too much. They cannot sit here and be a toy for you, or a pillow princess in a sense. They have to have you, claim you, it’s too intense of a feeling.

They push themselves up into a sitting position. Snatching your hips as you yelp in turn, almost falling but they pull you against their body. Their hands cup under your ass just as your arms go around their shoulders, choking out their name before they begin pistoning their hips up into you.

The bed creaks with their effort, hardly heard as you cry out and moan. Your hands fly up so one can grip at the back of their neck, the other clawing at their back as they use their muscles to thrust up into you. Their snarls are loud in your ear, followed only by the feeling of their teeth against your neck. Lips kissing away at bruises they leave behind with each growing hickey and bite.

When their hips grow tired, they use you like a doll and fuck you on their cock. You feel sloppy and far too wet, feeling it sticking to your inner thighs as you try to keep up with the motions. But, they won’t stop. Their hands just insistently push and pull until you’re rocking against the knot and sobbing into their neck, “Hound- Hound- fuck I can’t- it’s too much-”

Your voice is shaky with each hard, heaving breath you take. You’re absolutely throbbing on the edge by now, everything alight and far too hot. Yet, they don’t relent.

“You can take it,” They huff out, voice low and almost growling it out possessively. “You will take it.” They repeat, stressing out each syllable with a tug of your hips. Pressing up against you and pushing you down as the knot presses and stretches.

Your scream is muffled in their neck, your hands desperately clawing at their back as the knot presses into you. It’s all far too much, especially when their hand moves from your hip to instead rub at your clit. Using your own wetness to slide over your clit easily. You cum as they growl their native tongue into your ear, only managing to make quick translations in your head. Making out; ‘Mine’ ‘Love’ ‘Little whore’.  

There’s just a few moments where they let you rest like this. High on your orgasm even as their fingers tease at your hardened clit, making you give weak jerks and whines in response.

“Do you wish to be moved?” Bloodhound murmurs against your sweaty temple, pressing a warm kiss there even as you hum your negative in response. They laugh, gently shifting you in their lap. “You are heavy.”

“Tough.” You murmur back, nosing deeper into their neck to feel the vibrations of their chuckle.

Carefully, they move both your bodies as one. Shifting to lie on their side and keeping your leg thrown over their hip so they can stay locked inside. Their hand lovingly strokes down your side, petting you as you lazily roll your hips just to feel your inner walls squeeze.

“You are a greedy little thing, my love.” They tease at you, their hand coming under your ass to tease at the outer rims of your pussy, completely stretched out. “I am gone for five days, and you cannot manage yourself?”

Tiredly, all you can reply with is a negative hum. Lightly shaking your head with a yawn. “Nah, you do it better.”

Way better.

[big-wet-cas-eyes]

AUs: day 2 of @starrynightdeancas 's 2k followers celebration ✨ (ao3)

I didn't know what I wanted to do for this AU prompt so I had @vaxilddan send me a random job and @pixelhanzo send me a random trope and thus the monstrosity "dog groomer + enemies to friends to lovers" was born 

(wc: ~1700)

The little bell above the door dings right as Castiel hangs up the phone. Mrs. Tran is running a little late picking up her golden retriever, Alfie, but she assures Castiel that she'll be there soon. He doesn't mind much; Alfie is a polite dog, and he's been napping quietly in the corner while Castiel tidies up his grooming salon for the last twenty minutes. The front door closes loudly, causing the bell to ding again, and he looks up to see a tall man walking through the door with a scruffy ball of fluff tucked under his arm.

The man might be handsome if he didn't look so exhausted. Strong, stubbled jaw, sandy hair, green eyes… exactly Castiel's type. But the deep purple circles under his eyes make it look like the man hasn't slept in a week. He doesn't get a good vibe from the guy.

Castiel frowns slightly. Alfie was supposed to be his last appointment of the day. He glances down at his schedule, seeing nothing after Alfie. They do take walk-ins, but he was hoping to close up early. Business is business, though, so he pastes his customer service smile on his face.

"Hello, sir. How can I help you?" Castiel greets as the man reaches the desk.

"Hey, uh, you guys do nail trims right?" the man asks as the fur under his arm wiggles.

Castiel eyes the dog warily. It's filthy and matted. He can't even see its eyes. "Just a nail trim?" he asks, unable to stop the skepticism from dripping into his voice. He's trying not to judge, but if he just does a nail trim, this dog is going to leave his salon looking like it's never had a bath in its life.

"What?" The man looks up, surprise in his now wide eyes. He glances down at the dog and grimaces. "I guess she is pretty dirty. Do you have time for a bath? Or I could make an appointment for another day if you're busy?" He sounds unsure, looking around Castiel and probably noticing Alfie, who is awake now and watching the new arrivals.

"No, Alfie there was my last appointment for the day and he's just waiting to go home. I have time to do a bath." He watches the little dog wiggle even more, desperately trying to free itself from under the man's arm. "Who is this?" Castiel asks as he comes around the counter to get a better look at it.

"This is Baby. She's a, uh, pomchi," he replies, moving the dog to grip her under the arms, holding her out in Castiel's direction like she's a bomb. Castiel raises an eyebrow. The combination of dog breed and name don't exactly match this guy's rugged appearance, but he's heard weirder so he shrugs it off.

"Hello, Baby," Castiel says, reaching forward to pat her on the head. His hand snaps back immediately when the dog starts snarling.

"She's a little nervous around new people," the man says sheepishly.

Castiel frowns. He's seen a lot of nervous dogs, and they don't normally react quite this angrily. "I'll just go grab a leash for her." He grabs a clipboard from the desk and hands it at Dean. "Please fill this out."

He sends the man — Dean, according to his paperwork — on his way five minutes later with a promise that he'll call as soon as Baby is ready.

And that's how Castiel meets his least favorite dog grooming client.

Dean brings Baby into Castiel's grooming shop about once a month. She is absolutely, without a doubt, the meanest dog he's ever met. He's taken to muzzling her the moment Dean is out the door because he nearly had his hand ripped off one too many times during her first visit. She snarls and snaps and honestly just looks pissed the entire time she's there. And while she seems slightly more comfortable with Dean, he's caught the dog snarling at her owner a few times too. The dog is tiny, barely six pound soaking wet, but she's pure, concentrated evil.

This dog clearly got no training or proper socialization. He blames her Dean for that. He has no patience for irresponsible owners.

After six months of grooming the literal devil, Castiel finally decides to confront the guy. He doesn't care that it's unprofessional. He doesn't even care if he loses a client or gets a bad review. He's sick of this entitled dick bringing his asshole dog in. Baby has been snarling at him under her muzzle for a full hour, even now that he's completely done with her grooming and she's sitting in the bed in the corner. She sits and glares at Castiel, murder in her eyes. Castiel glares right back at her, and when the bell above the door dings, Castiel shifts his glare to the man walking in.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up B— woah, are you okay, dude?" Dean clearly takes in his glare and stops dead in his tracks, only making it halfway to the front desk.

"Your dog," Cas grits out through clenched teeth, "is the devil incarnate." He knows the anger is clear in his voice. He waits, eyes still fixed on Dean.

"I, uh," Dean stammers, hand rubbing the back of his neck, "I know she's a pain in the ass, but look man, I'm doing my best." He's looking at the floor now.

"I have to muzzle her. She's been snarling at me nonstop for an hour," he almost yells. He points behind him at the dog, not taking his eyes off Dean. "She's still snarling at me! I haven't touched her in fifteen minutes!" The dog growls slightly louder in the background, as if to prove Castiel's point.

Dean looks up, eyes wide. He looks horrified, and Castiel is actually starting to feel a little guilty. "Look, Cas, I'm really sorry, I had no idea. I can start taking her somewhere else. I'm not really a dog person—"

Castiel cuts him off. "Why the hell do you have a dog then?" He can tell that he's being too harsh, but he's just so angry.

The look on Dean's face shifts from embarrassed to sad. "She belonged to my neighbor. She passed away about six months ago, right before I started bringing Baby in to see you. She was always a little uneasy around people, but she seemed okay with me when I visited. That's why Mildred made me promise to take care of her when she was gone, but without Mildred around, Baby completely hates me." He looks Castiel in the eye, finally, eyes pleading. "I'm trying so hard to train her, but she's already eight years old and so, so stubborn. I have no idea what I'm doing."

And all of a sudden Castiel feels like a piece of shit.

He learns a lot about Dean in the next few months, and it turns out the guy isn't so bad now that Castiel doesn't feel obligated to hate him. He brings Baby in more frequently now that winter has come; apparently Baby makes a habit of walking through muddy, slushy piles of snow. Baby still hasn't warmed up to him, but he's more willing to work with her now that he feels guilty for yelling at a guy who was just trying to do the right thing.

Castiel and Dean start chatting more and more whenever Dean drops her off and picks her up, lingering a little longer with each visit. The conversation usually centers around Baby, but Castiel has learned a little bit about Dean's life as well. Dean clearly cares about Baby, even though the dog looks at him like she might kill him at any moment.

Castiel is starting to consider him a friend when Dean asks if he can help train Baby.

"I'm not a dog trainer, Dean," Castiel says, feeling sorry for the words when he sees the look in Dean's eyes. Disappointment.

"I know, but, and you're not gonna believe this, she likes you better than she likes almost anyone else," Dean says, holding up his hand when Castiel opens his mouth to protest. "I swear, it's true. And you're actually a dog person, so I thought maybe…" He sighs loudly. "You don't have to."

Cas takes in a deep breath. He ignores Baby growling behind him and says, "I'll do it."

The bright smile that breaks across Dean's face makes it instantly worth it.

That's how Castiel finds himself at Dean's house every Friday night after work. Baby actually is a little more bearable to be around when she's at home. The disdain she shows in the grooming salon shifts to mostly disinterest as long as Castiel keeps his distance. Dean's not sure that they'll ever get any training accomplished until she trusts Castiel, so they mostly just sit on the floor in the same room as her, scooting closer to her occasionally to get her more comfortable with his presence. Castiel figures that she doesn't need training as much as she needs to get used to human contact, so he's fine with the approach. Luckily, it gives them a lot of time to talk and get to know each other beyond the short conversations they've been having for months.

Things with Baby are slow-going, but after a few weeks she lets them sit within arms reach without snarling, at least until they try to pet her. It's not much, but it's progress. And he feels the progress in his relationship with Dean, as well. The first few times Castiel comes over are a little awkward, but eventually it feels as if he's known Dean forever. Maybe they had a rocky start, a slow progression toward friendship, but Cas doesn't regret how things played out. He doesn't mind that it took some time and effort to understand Dean (and Baby, for that matter). He doesn't mind that it wasn't easy.

And if sometimes Dean reaches across the floor and holds his hand, or kisses him on the cheek on his way out the door… Cas doesn’t mind that either.

[bandaged-writer]

“you are my soulmate.” || dazai

lyric prompts are still open ^.^

➤ Requested by: nonnie (I accidentally deleted the ask instead of saving it)

➤ Lyric prompt: "You are my soulmate."

➤ Pairing: Dazai x Reader

➤ Genre: fluff, romance, soulmate! AU, friends to lovers-ish(?)

➤ Warnings: none

➤ Word count: 2k

The remains of steam trickled down the foggy bathroom mirror while you were busy rubbing your wet hair dry, the smell of showering gel and shampoo lingering in your nose and relaxing your tense nerves. It had been quite the rough week at the agency; a couple of fights, tons of paperwork which your back hated you for and more than enough complaints from the neighbors about the noise and damage. Of course, you couldn't help but reward yourself with a nice, long shower.

Wiping the steam away from the mirror, you tilted your head at the monochromatic reflection staring back at you. There were no colors whatsoever, only a gloomy mix of black and white painted your world once again. Suddenly, you were reminded of the time your mother had told you about soulmates who would paint you a clear blue sky overtime, but what the hell was blue? What did it look like? You were already in your 20s, you doubted that your soulmate was close by - for all you knew, they could live across the globe or died already. Fate wasn't always kind, after all.

Shaking these memories away and wrapping a fluffy towel tightly around your torso, you finally stepped out of the comfort of your bathroom only to be greeted by a pouting mummy lazing around on your couch. "[Name]! Good that you finally finished your shower, the remote control isn't working anymore!" Dazai whined dramatically and held the defective device in his hands as if it had committed a felony. "I've been stuck having to watch a documentary about dogs! Dogs of all animals! Only your beauty can cure my eyes from what they had witnessed-"

Embarrassment heated your cheeks up while your hands were clutching your towel to your chest, your friend's words fell on deaf ears. "What the hell are you doing here?!" you yelled at the brunette and swung a trained leg at the suicidal man whose hand easily grabbed your bare ankle. "My sweet [Name], don't you know how lonely I am without a pretty lady to spend a Saturday with?," by then, you were already used to Dazai's flirty antics and only rolled your eyes at his sugar-coated words for they were nothing more but just that. "That gives you no right to break into my house while I'm showering!," you were beyond flustered, although even this wasn't exactly new. Dazai had seen you half naked numerous times over the course of your friendship and it had never gotten under your skin so deeply. "It's not breaking in when you showed me where the spare key is," a smug expression settled down on Dazai's handsome features as he showed you the glimmering key which was usually hidden in the flower pot in front of your door.

Just as you were about to give in, something weird happened.

For a moment, you could see Dazai's eye color, the shade of his hair and clothes. It was a mere flicker of faded paint filling your vision before your world went back to its monochromatic state and left you staring at your friend like a deer caught in headlights.

"Earth to [Name]," Dazai snapped his fingers in front of your eyes and whipped you back to reality where everything was very much black and white and not colorful. "Wait here, I need to get dressed," pulling your leg from Dazai's grasp, you made a run to your bedroom, slammed the door shut and let your back collide with the cool wood, small gasps leaving your lips as your breathing picked up in a horrifying realization.

The one person you were closest to made you see colors. The one person who knew you better than the back of his hand, knew every little flaw and imperfection and was the epitome of a suicidal womanizer.

No, it had to be a mistake. A simple miscalculation, a cheap trick of the eye. Yes, nothing but a mistake - you had heard of some people seeing colors from birth or they randomly gained the ability to see them without developing feelings towards anyone.

This would be a disaster.

_____________________

And oh boy, were you right.

With each passing day, the dreary monochromatic life you were used to, gradually disappeared and tainted your vision with colors you didn't want to see, because you could finally see that everything your co-workers had told you about Dazai was indeed true.

"What does Dazai look like?," doodling on a random sheet of paper and with coffee resting next to your computer, you threw the sudden question at Naomi who was one of the few people at the agency who could see colors. The ravenette raised a fine eyebrow, looking at you like you had lost your mind. "You don't suffer from long-term memory loss, do you?," a teasing cadence laced in her voice. Letting your body slightly slide down the chair, you leaned your head back against the furniture and pouted. "I know what he looks like! But like..what colors is he made up of?," it was a funny question - you considered Dazai your best friend and yet, you didn't know the color of his irises, of his coat, of the silly pendant he always carried around his neck. You wanted to see your friend.

Naomi's gaze softened at that, a tender curve finding home on her lips which made her eyes smile. It was a question so trivial that only few people worried about, and yet there you were, oblivious to the feelings that were so painfully obvious to everyone at the agency.

And so, Naomi told you about every color that was Dazai Osamu: from the black shoes, to the beige coat, to the blue pendant and his brown locks.

"I envy you for seeing so much more, Naomi."

Those words turned out to be a blessing and a curse alike.

On one hand, you could faintly make out the sparkle in Dazai's coffee-colored orbs but on the other hand, that sparkle was reserved for the pretty waitress of Uzumaki's whose hand he was currently holding, his mind smitten with the mere idea of committing a lover's suicide. You wish you wouldn't see them light up even though the color you saw was barely there, washed out.

"Would a fair maiden such as yourself allow me the honor of you accompanying me to the afterlife?," a moonstruck smile stretched Dazai's lips, his calloused thumb stroking the delicate knuckles of the waitress who remained unfazed by Dazai's attempt to woo her. It was a typical sight, yet why did it bother you? You had witnessed such scenes countless of times and even acted as the brunette's girlfriend just so he could get rid of another woman's unwanted affection. "Hmm, maybe if you have a life insurance," the waitress twinkled, clearly uninterested in Dazai's proposal.

You realized that not even a soulmate could tie Dazai down.

"Are you alright, [Name]?," Atsushi pulled your attention to the matter at hand which was assigning several cases to different colleagues, but even Atsushi could tell that you weren't really with him. He saw the way your gaze would travel to the counter where Dazai was keeping himself busy with the waitress, he noticed the way you'd only ever give him an occasional "mhm" or a short "yes".

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm good. Don't worry, Atsushi," you waved a dismissive hand in front of your face and put on the ghost of a smile which never reached your eyes.

"I was just thinking about how blue the sky is today."

_____________________

"Have you ever seen colors, Osamu?," mindlessly, you stared at the sake in the small cup held by your fingers, your body resting on Dazai's floor with the wall supporting your back. It was a lazy night of having a few drinks at the brunette's place, talking about anything that came to mind or letting silence and unspoken words fill the space.

Dazai effortlessly downed a shot and let the liquor burn his throat. At least, the drinks were less bitter with you around. "Well, have you?" Ah, that bastard once again avoided your question by asking his own and putting the spotlight on you. It was such a painfully obvious tactic to dodge personal questions, but it still worked every damn time. Or maybe you just needed to get some thoughts off your chest and run the risk of Dazai figuring out the secret you had only told Atsushi about.

"What do you think about it?," stupid how the two of you danced around the topic like it was poison which could bring death upon the both of you.

Sitting down opposite of you, Dazai scanned your face. The way your gaze was fixed on him like a magnet, the missing makeup, the slightly disheveled hair from work and the way your lips shone thanks to the lip balm you always carried with you. "You're a curious thing, aren't you?," a chuckle caressed your ears and you wished it was a bit more lighthearted, a bit less closed off. Dazai rested his elbow on his propped up knee in a lazy manner as he gathered his thoughts; it was something he had never talked about.

"I don't think I like the concept of a soulmate. After all, your soulmate can be dead or be against the beliefs you hold on to so tightly. It'd cause unnecessary conflict over and over again until both individuals grow tired of each other and eventually break up, no?," Dazai paused then sighed, his eyes drawn to the night sky outside. "Isn't it a bit mean to gift color only those who feel something like love towards someone?"

Those words were as bitter as the liquor scorching your throat, but could you really disagree? A soulmate was only a partner suggestion given by the universe and whatever created it. Many soulmates eventually got tired of one another, yet no one broke things off since having someone to come home to was comfortable. It was comfortable, but it was no longer love. "It is. I've been dying to see what colors you are," you admitted softly, hoping he couldn't tear through the lie and discover that you saw the color of the cut that he got from an earlier fight.

At that, Dazai smiled at you with tender eyes and tilted his head to the side, brown strands of hair framing his stupidly dreamy face. "Honestly? I've been wondering what your eye color is."

You swore the world just got more colorful.

_____________________

The day the colors reached their peak of vibrancy was the day your heart skipped a beat for the first time in quite a while.

In the background, you could hear Kunikida scolding Dazai and threatening to kill him with his own bony fingers jus because the brunette was trying to shove his reports to Atsushi. "I swear I'll make you see the end of your life!," the blond man yelled, clearly fed up with his colleague's antics and non-existent work ethics. "At least let me die with a beautiful woman by my side!"

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. Their arguments never failed to squeeze a laugh out of your lungs even when you didn't feel like laughing at all. The agency was your safe place, it was your home.

"Oh, I spent an entire minute dealing with your crap although we should get going. Let's go, Dazai," Kunikida let go of his partner's collar, dusted off his pants like nothing happened and grabbed the keys for the car; no way in hell would he ever let the suicidal maniac drive, again. "Punctual as always, Kunikida," Dazai mock praised the blond and crossed his hands behind his head, a smile on his face.

"Ah, good luck, guys!," you called after Kunikida with quite the stack of paper in your hands and smiled up at Dazai who just..looked at you. You were about to tell him to hurry up and head out before Kunikida would scold him again, when he spoke in a hushed tone which was only meant to be heard by you.

"I like your lip balm. Red suits you."

[serpentinesarang]

Familiar

pairing: chan (bang chan) x gender-neutral reader

genre: no smut, married!au, emotionally heavy, lots of plot build-up/context description, slow burn, fluff at the end, second-person POV

word count: 2098

content warnings: themes of death, depression/grieving, lack of eating, swearing; this is a SERIOUS piece that may make you cry. please proceed with caution and take a mental breather after. 

summary: your husband chan died a year ago, and life hasn’t been the same until you meet a peculiar stray dog whom you decide to keep.

a/n: partly inspired by the netflix anime film “a whisker away.” hint hint: australian dingo...

korean key:

⦿ sasaengpaen (사생팬) = crazy spy-like super fans, sasaeng for short; pronounced “sah-seng”

⦿ annyeong (안녕) = multipurpose word that translates to hi/bye and no; in this story, it’s used in the hi/bye sense. pronounced “on-yawng”

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Preface

It happened a year ago. The crash. The sasaengs. The coma. The stroke. The doctors’ denial of life support. The funeral.

Your husband Chan had died tragically after a catastrophic car accident outside the JYPE building in Seoul when a group of sasaengs tried to take control of an already chaotic situation on the street. Chan had been rushed to the hospital, so bloodied and so internally fractured that he immediately fell comatose and incidentally suffered a stroke due to the bodily trauma. 

You’d begged with all your might for the doctors to put him on life support, but they refused, saying he’d be vegetative for the rest of your life. They even sent an insurance liason up to Chan’s ICU suite to speak with you about having to pay for his life support as long as you continued to live, and you were just so beaten down by all the hospital staff that you agreed to release his body to the funeral home his parents had flown in to coordinate with.

And you were destroyed. 

Your employer had given you three months’ bereavement, but you still couldn’t bear to go to work for four more months. You slept 12 hours on Chan’s side of the bed every night and only wore his clothes during those four months of intermittent crying. After you used up the remaining sick days and paid time off you’d accrued over the years, your manager finally terminated you for missing too much. The next two months were spent on the couch with no appetite and inconsistent sleep, the good memories of Chan continually flooding back to you at random times. 

This was when you’d decided it was time to get your shit together because the scale declared you 15 lbs [7 kg] lighter; the circles under your eyes scared you each time you dared to glance in a mirror; and your phone’s mailbox had filled to its limit with messages from anyone and everyone offering their condolences for your loss. So three months passed, and you were able to gain back most of your weight, sleep more consistently, and clean out your social media.

Those last three months were the cleansing your soul so desperately needed, and for the first time since the incident, you were starting to feel a level of normalcy again. You’d even pushed yourself to get back into the workforce, and thankfully, this new employer didn’t cause a scene about your 11-month gap in job history. 

The dominoes were falling back into place. Sadly, you’d felt compelled at one point to ghost the rest of Stray Kids because it was just too painful for you to act like you could handle yourself around them. Out of worry and compassion, they all individually sent you messages here and there, but you told yourself maybe in the future. After all, your life had disintegrated to less than dust, so you were your priority moving forward.

Now

Your phone’s alarm wakes you to another dreary November day. It’s a snippet of an audio message he’d left you long, long ago when he was away for a tour. “Good morning to you, [Mr./Mrs.] Bang, my beautiful angel. I’m thinking of you as always. Text me when you get this. Love you, honey.”

November 25th, to be exact: the one-year anniversary of Chan’s death.

You sigh, whispering to the ceiling, “I love you too, baby.”

You pick yourself up, go through all the usual motions, and head to work in the morning snow, trying to keep your mind as numb as you’ve been recently feeling. Perhaps you’ll do a little something once you return home, you resolve.

The workday passes; the snow continues blanketing the city; and nothing really good or bad has happened in the meantime.

You step off the elevator onto your floor of the apartment building. You’re freezing from the windchill, mindlessly deleting spam email on your phone while trudging in your heavy boots to your door.

Once you reach your unit, something at the edge of your eyesight causes you to freeze. You take in the sight before you: a large, tan and white dog lying on your welcome mat with its front paws extended toward you. Its deep brown eyes stare right into yours, and you feel all the air in your lungs disappear.

“A-annyeong,” you murmur softly, pocketing your phone. 

The dog blinks in response, not moving his gaze.

You crouch down in front of the dog slowly, trying not to spook it. “Are you lost, sweetie?”

The dog emits a barely audible whimper, and you can’t tell if it’s sad or relieved to have been found. It’s not wearing a collar, and its abundant fur looks clean, like an inside pet.

Feeling conflicted, you purse your lips. “You must be... I’ll tell you what: you be good and stay here for me, okay?”

The dog exhales sharply before closing its eyes.

Wow, well trained pupper, you think to yourself as you rise. You spend the next five minutes ringing the entire floor’s doorbells, even banging on the doors of the units that didn’t respond to the bell. Each and every neighbor of yours denies owning a dog that looks like a Shiba Inu, and they all claim to not know anyone else who might have one.

“Fuck,” you hiss under your breath after the last person closes their door.

Returning back to your unit, you find the dog hasn’t moved an inch, but it must recognize your presence because its eyes fly open, and its head shoots up toward you.

“I guess you’re mine for now,” you address it. You enter your passcode and push the door open, pointing expectantly with an approving facial expression for the dog to understand it’s okay to go in.

And it happily trots inside, sniffing around the entryway while you shuck off your boots, parka, and other winter layers. 

The dog seems to be waiting for you to finish because, once you turn toward it, it immediately turns around and saunters to the bedroom on the far end of the apartment. You keep up at its side and determine with a friendly visual inspection that this dog is a boy.

Approaching Chan’s old side of the mattress, he turns back to you and sits down in front of the nightstand, digging his eyes into yours once more.

Your brow furrows as you try to piece together what’s happening. “What? What’s up, sweetie?”

The dog replies with a heartwrenching whimper, angling his snout forward as if asking for you.

You pad closer and sit on the backs of your legs. “Will you let me touch you?” you ask him softly, raising a hand for him to sniff.

Oddly, he straight up disregards your hand and leans forward to lick your chin.

“Awww,” you gush at his sudden affection. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” You stroke the top of his tan head, and again, the poor thing whimpers while leaning into your touch.

You scratch at the bases of his ears before cupping his jowls in your hands. “You’re such a sweet boy, you know that?”

The dog blinks rapidly, pushing forward again to gently lick at your unsuspecting lips this time.

Giggling and stroking his front shoulder areas, you say, “Ohh, thank you, thank you. I haven’t been kissed in a year, so I appreciate that, sweet boy.”

A moment passes, but you have to do a double-take when you notice the thick stream of fluid cascading from his shiny eyes.

You gasp. “Oh nooo, are you crying?” With your thumbs, you carefully wipe away his tears. “Don’t cry, sweetie. I did enough of that for nine months straight, and I can’t have you making me sad too,” you confide with the animal, stroking his head again.

He responds by standing on all fours and pressing the top of his head to your own forehead, and you go breathless again.

He’s so human-like... so emotional... you think, raising your arms over his body and hugging him. You stay there for a solid minute before he finally pulls back and sits again.

You sigh quietly, evaluating his expression. “I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day.” You nudge your chin up to the bed. “Wanna rest for a while?”

The dog ever so quietly barks with its snout closed, as if in acknowledgement, and he waits for you to move first. So you rise and position the pillows on Chan’s side against the wall for you to sit upright. You spread your legs in a butterfly position, and without you having to beckon or give permission, the dog hops to the corner of the bed and situates himself between your legs. You notice then that he’s eyeing something on the wall above the bed.

The professional landscape shot of Chan with his arms tightly curled around you under a peony-adorned gazebo near a lake, the day of your wedding. You were looking into each other’s eyes with the sincerest of smiles.

You turn to glance at the framed photo. “Yeah,” you sigh deeply, turning back to the dog. “That’s Channie, my husband.”

The dog picks up on your change of tone and scoots forward as close as he can get, resting his paws on your upper thighs and his snout on your stomach. His gleaming eyes practically compel you to go on.

Placing your hands on his soft back, you continue in a strained voice: “He was taken from me last year, on this day actually, November 25th. He was so badly hurt in the accident that he went into a coma and had a stroke a couple days later.”

You pause, and the dog whimpers on your stomach, his sad gaze making your throat constrict and your eyes water. 

How can a dog be so in tune with me...?

You push that question away with a sigh and bring a hand to rest on his head. “I never left the hospital. The nurses had to kick me out of his room when he passed. And I cried my eyes out for almost a year.” 

Your eyes drift off, glancing at the ceiling and the walls while remembering your grieving process. “So now I sleep on his side of the bed... I wear only his clothes at home... and I shower with the same things he always did. He’s always with me, even when I’m not wearing my ring.”

Tears have started falling onto your cheeks, and you look back down at the quiet dog to find him crying again as well, his glassy eyes still intently watching you.

An uncontrolled sob escapes your lips before you mash them together, trying to keep it together.

“I love him so much,” you throw your head back against the wall. “I love him so, so fucking much,” you whisper, the hot tears falling faster now.

You hear the dog whine rather loudly, so you focus on him again as he raises his head. “He was my person, and now I have no one,” you blubber, using your hands to angrily wipe away the tears.

The dog replies with a seemingly uncharacteristic growl, its eyes still very soft in contrast.

“Okay, okay, now I have you,” you concede, catching your breath. “I don’t know where your parents are, and I’ve been alone for too long.” You pause, almost unwilling to continue. “Will you stay with me, sweet boy?”

He barks out a high-pitched yelp, spastically moving his paws against you so they’re digging into your abdomen now.

Cheered up by the dog’s responsive expressions of emotion, you burst into a brief laugh and scratch the underside of his snout. “You remind me of him, you know. Soft hair, gorgeous brown eyes, super caring.”

Again, he whimpers, very quietly this time. You tenderly kiss his moist nose. “I’ll call you Chris... because only I was allowed to call him that.”

Chris responds by licking your lips again.

Your random gasp makes him jump a little. “Oh my gosh, I bet you’re hungry or thirsty!” You try shifting on the bed, but Chris’s weight holds you firmly. “Do you want food?”

Chris lowers his snout, resting it on your chest now. He doesn’t make any noises, but you can guess what he means by this.

“Okay, Chris, I gotcha. We’ll stay here and eat when you’re ready,” you promise as you smooth his pointed ears backward.

...

I found them... if only they knew it’s me... I’m Channie, and I’m still yours, honey.