#my arms are gonna fall off from typing this much ow

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 7

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual content, mental abuse, toxic relationship, language Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: SHE'S BAACKKK!!! omg i missed you guys so much you don't even know! I AM BACK and i'm locked in and i finally got this chapter out for you, ty for being so so patient with me, i will have more time to write for everyone now!! ily guys and tysm for 1k followers, i have a little surprise to you to celebrate that soon :)) ILYM <33

italics are flashbacks

-

Before London

“You buckled up?”

“Yes,” I murmur, crossing my legs and looking out the window. It’s one of those days where it’s been grey and gloomy since the morning. The dark clouds billow in along the horizon, causing an unbearable humidity to fall over Dallas. The weather felt heavy, everyone hoping for a gentle May storm to bring some relief. I could feel sweat growing in my neck, the humidity causing my hair to turn unruly, impossible to manage, dark curls twisting every which way except the direction they were supposed to.

The heaviness was impossible to escape, even in Paige’s car - though I’m not exactly sure if it’s the weather or the tension between us having my stomach doing flips.

“Jesus…” The blonde mumbles to herself when a song by The Weeknd starts playing, nimble hands quickly skipping it.

Since our interrupted moment on my couch we hadn’t talked about it, neither of us wanting to be the first to bring it up. We left it at that, just a moment of weakness between us both, Paige avoiding my gaze whenever she could. The blonde, however, had been growing uncharacteristically more frustrated ever since. Whether because of what happened between us or the game tomorrow, I wasn’t sure.

“So… When’s your dad coming?” I ask carefully, knowing she has been irritated all day. Matter of fact Arike and Lou had warned me about it earlier.

“Tonight, I’ll pick him up from the airport,” she mumbles and then groans, hitting the steering wheel like remembering something. “I was gonna clean before but I forgot.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nah.”

“Paige, I really don’t mind,” I insist, watching the hooper driving with practiced ease in her Nike sweats and a black t-shirt. “I kind of owe it to you since you took care of me…”

Paige’s blue eyes flicker from the road to me, back to the road, face turning red at the memory of us on the couch. Just as she’s about to answer, another song by The Weeknd begins to play.

“This fuckin’ playlist,” Paige groans, quickly skipping every song with any type of sexual implications. It was almost funny, really, the way she was behaving. She’s huffing, fumbling with her phone to change songs before throwing the device to me. “Just put on sumn Iz, please, I’m getting pissed off.”

“I can see that,” I chuckle, picking another list which seemingly is more chill. “Nervous about the game huh?”

“I dunno man,” she mumbles, rubbing her face and leaning back against the seat, jaw clenching. Truthfully, I felt just as frustrated, my mind spinning around how the girl felt on top of me. Everything she did felt so effortless, yet had me probably wetter than I had ever been in my life with such ease. The mere memory had been driving me mad, my own hand trying to relieve the ache between my thighs but with no such luck. Honestly the tension was driving me just as frustrated as Paige is. And God this stupid, overbearing heat, the way it had turned my skin sticky, making it hard to breathe. Paige rubs her own chest, as if feeling the exact same.

Even now, watching the blonde, her veiny hands on the wheel, arms glistening with sweat from the humidity, neck bobbing as she swallows heavily, blonde hair down and straight. all of it had that familiar ache grow between my legs again. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this much.

I lick my lips and move my eyes to the road, beginning to feel flustered. The temptation of toying with the idea of going to bed with the blonde had been growing stronger and stronger, driving me up the wall. Maybe it was time for me to try on someone else. But I felt afraid, it had been years since I slept with anyone else but Jasper. Maybe this could be a good chance to see how it might make me feel? But then again Paige would need to understand that it has to be just sex. Nothing more. No attachment. 

Memories of her filthy words repeat in my head. I swear no one’s ever spoken to me like that before. No one had ever told me such dirty things. It was exhilarating, it had me soaked. 

The drive is quiet, Paige letting out frustrated huffs now and then and chewing on her lower lip.

“Will we still do the pregame interview for socials tomorrow?” I ask.

“Course,” she huffs with annoyance.

“Okay no reason to have an attitude with me now,” I answer, growing a little annoyed or perhaps frustrated too.

She pulls up to our building’s parking lot, exhaling loudly. “You right,” she mumbles and turns to me, face softening exponentially. Paige reaches over, taking both my hands into hers. It’s enough to make my stomach flip. “You right Iz, I’m sorry. Ion wanna be like that with you I just… It’s this damn heat and everything.”

Our eyes lock, and I consider leaning over the center console and kissing her. But I wasn’t brave enough. Not yet, at least.

“It’s okay Paige,” I hum. Slightly hesitantly, the blonde brings my hands up to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to both of them, eyes fluttering shut. I feel the familiar blush build on my cheeks as I watch her, jolts running through my body. No, I’m done being scared. I need her now.

“Can I come over to yours please?” I ask as politely as I can, though the look in my eyes lets Paige know exactly what’s on my mind. I swear I’ve never seen her nod so quickly, barely letting my words sink in. She clumsily climbs out of the car, practically running to my side to open the door and helping me out. The blonde’s steps are hurried, long strides making it hard for me to keep up as we climb to her floor, a slight grin on my face as I watch the eagerness in which she was moving with. 

Paige’s hands scramble with the lock, the key shaking a little in her hand as she finally opens the door, allowing me in first. My stomach starts to twist, and there’s a burn spreading around my upper thighs as I take off my heels, suddenly significantly shorter than the blonde girl following on my tail.

I hear the door close and turn around, chest heaving much like Paige’s is as I watch her blue eyes roaming my body, the black pencil skirt and the body hugging maroon short-sleeved top, her gaze landing on my face, mouth already agape and breaths growing heavy. 

For a moment we just breathe, our eyes locked on each other, taking the moment in. The tension, the pent up frustration, the need we have for each other, until the blonde snaps and pushes me into the wall which feels cold against my warm back. Paige’s hands land on my waste as our lips crash into a messy, sloppy, needy kiss. A type of kiss I had never had before. It leaves me breathless, my arms wrapping around her shoulders, long fingers wrapping into her hair and pulling the girl closer. She moves her lips off mine, beginning to trail to my neck, hands on my waist travelling downwards to my ass, groaning as she feels it under her grip. 

“W-wait,” I gasp breathlessly, legs already beginning to shake. 

“Mhm,” Paige hums against my skin, lips never quitting working on my neck. 

“I- fuck,” I whimper. “I just need you to know that this has to be just sex.”

Without even thinking I feel the blonde nod, lips sucking right below my ear. “Okay, whatever you want Iz.”

I pull her away from my neck by her hair, meeting her eyes. “I’m serious. Just sex.”

Paige’s eyelids are heavy, the normally bright blue of her eyes turning dark with lust as she gazes down at me. “Izara, I mean it. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be okay?”

When those words leave the blonde’s mouth I nearly crumble to the ground. I can’t wait for a second longer, the wetness pooling between my legs enough proof of that.

“Take me to bed,” I tell the younger girl, who picks me up with ease as my legs wrap around her torso. She kisses me hungrily, our tongues meeting in a battle for dominance which the blonde soon wins as she places me down on her bed softly, my skirt now hiked up halfway up my thighs.

For a moment Paige stands above me, eyes roaming my body as she shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re so beautiful,” she mumbles, then climbs on top of me, her right hand hiking my skirt all the way up, revealing my lacy red panties. When Paige notices, she lets out a groan, practically drooling but working hard to pace herself.

“Take this off,” I murmur, yanking on Paige’s t-shirt.

“Yes ma’am,” she replies, pulling it over her head and onto the floor. I watch the way her muscles in her abdomen clench and I can’t help but drag my fingernails along it as she sits up on top of me, straddling me while I lie flat against the soft blanket.

“Fuck,” she moans hoarsely, throwing her head back, her hands inching underneath my top.

“Would you like it off?” I ask, chest heaving.

“Yes. Please.”

I pull the top off, the blonde’s fingertips leaving tingles as they drag over my ribs. Somehow I don’t feel nervous, all my anxious thoughts left the second I felt Paige on me again.

“Goddamn…” The girl sighs, her hand dragging to my matching lace bra and palming my round breast, making me whimper. I pull her down by the chain on her neck, kissing her feverishly, my underwear growing wetter with every passing moment, mind spinning with need. As I let out a whine, Paige gets the hint, her right hand dragging down my body to my bare thigh and squeezing. 

My back arches off the bed, another whine spilling from my lips but quickly silenced by the blonde’s kiss, her fingers trailing up my inner thigh torturously slowly.

“Paige,” I cry out.

“Tell me what you want?” Paige asks, her voice gravelly in a way I haven’t heard before.

“You to touch me,” I whimper, my brows furrowing with need. “Please.”

“So polite ma,” she grins, beginning to kiss my neck, inching downwards my body to my breasts. “I’mma take good care of you baby, don’ worry.”

My legs spread wider in anticipation as her lips trail downwards along my stomach. I can feel my head spinning, unable to accept that this is real and actually happening. That I would finally find relief to the awful ache inside me.

Faint giggles take me out of the moment, snapping me back to reality. I must’ve imagined - no wait, I can definitely hear giggles. “Paige,” I say.

“Mhm,” she hums, kissing along my inner thighs now.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what,” she mumbles against my skin, nuzzling it, her eyes finally opening when I sit up.

“Listen,” I complain, pushing her off by her forehead to make her pay attention.

“I hear nothin, just lie down and re-”

It’s clear. The sound coming from the front door. Paige’s front door, someone fumbling with the key in the keyhole, turning it and-

“What the fuck?” Paige asks, abruptly getting off me and hurrying to the door of her bedroom, peeking into the corridor in her sports bra and sweats. I get up too, pulling my skirt down, wanting to cry with frustration.

-

There they are. By my doorstep. KK, Ice, Azzi, Jana and Ash, holding balloons and banners and other decorations, giggling amongst each other.

“I- wh- KK? Ice? A- how did y’all get in?” I ask, eyes flickering between the girls and Izara in the bedroom, pulling her skirt down and throwing her top on frantically. 

“Why aren’t you at practice?”

“It ended early,” I say, my voice rising uncharacteristically as I attempt to steady my breathing from what almost just happened. How close I was to getting what I had been craving for weeks. I loved these girls but, God could I kill them right now. “How the hell do y’all got a key to my place??”

“Oh it’s your dad’s,” Azzi giggles. “We were gonna surprise you, he’s downstairs.”

Oh so not only my girls but my dad was gonna arrive at the scene. With a girl in my bedroom. I glance at Iz, who’s fixing her hair in the mirror, but she looks completely fucked out. And I bet I do too. I had no idea how to explain myself out of this one.

“Wh-” I start

“Yeah why aren’t you hugging us and shit? You forget all about us?” KK huffs.

I rub my face, letting out a heavy exhale when Izzie walks out of the bedroom into the eyeline of the group of girls. All their eyes widen, and I can’t ignore the shared looks between them. Quick, Paige, say something.

“Uhh, guys this is Iz- I mean, Zari, she uh, was over to uh…” I scratch the back of my neck, KK already covering her mouth trying not to laugh.

“I just needed to borrow…” Izzie’s eyes scan the room. “Paige’s lamp! Mine broke, so. Couldn’t see to read my book.” Her face is bright red, the usual composure with which she presented herself completely gone. I almost groan at the excuse but realise that would just make the situation seem a million times worse.

“Yes! She was! Uh let me get it for you,” I mumble, about to walk into the bedroom to actually grab a lamp for the girl.

“No no! You say hi to your friends, I can do it myself!”

I wanna bury my face into my hands and go back into the bedroom and lock the door and never come out. All the girls are staring with amused faces, hands holding balloons and flyers and little decorations in preparation for my first game tomorrow, clearly suspicious of us two. Just when I think it can’t get worse, my dad - yes my dad - walks in.

“Why are you girls all- Oh hi, don’t you have practice?” He asks, holding a cake.

I rub the bridge of my nose, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this point.

“Got home early,” I sigh, too flustered to even enjoy the fact that my best friends and my dad were here to see me.

“This girl here is borrowing a lamp,” KK mumbles under her breath to my dad, trying to hold in her snickers. What a stupid excuse. I thought Izzie was supposed to be smart. Borrowing a lamp, what kinda excuse was that?

My dad’s eyes land on Izzie, flickering between me and her and the awkwardly large distance between us as if that might help us look less suspicious. Though based on the small grin on my dad’s face, I can tell it’s doing the exact opposite.

“I’m Bob, Paige’s dad,” my dad slides inside through the girls who are eyeing the situation with amused expressions, shaking hands with Iz like I wasn’t just between her legs ready to do something unimaginable.

“Hey, I’m Izara. I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

“Izara huh?” He turns to me with a sly grin, something I’d inherited. “You haven’t mentioned an Izara?”

“She prefers Zari,” I correct, trying to avoid his eye. “She does media for the Wings.”

For a moment everyone’s quiet, multiple pairs of eyes staring at me, then Zari, then me again. The silence lingers, bordering on uncomfortable when to everyone’s relief KK speaks.

“Bro we don’t even get a hug or nothing?”

-

She’s there, sitting on my couch, in between Ice and Azzi and laughing that sweet giggle of hers. She looks comfortable, already gaining the approval of my friends with ease. We’re sitting in a circle around the coffee table eating pizza, easy conversation flowing between everyone. But all I could pay attention to was the brunette girl, how easily she fit in, how she had already charmed the hell out of my dad. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs at my friends’ stupid jokes, or the coy smile on her perfect lips when my dad asks her a question. I needed her, badly, even more than before if possible. 

“Excuse me, I need some water,” Izara catches my eye and excuses herself to the kitchen. Without a word I get up, following on her trail like a puppy. I know everyone notices us leaving, but I don’t care. I wanted to take every second to be with her, to touch her, to have her to myself.

“Hey,” I mumble, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she looks through my cupboards for glasses.

“Hey,” she hums with a smile. I walk to the girl, pressing my front into her back as I reach for a glass in the cupboard above us.

“Oh, thank you,” Izzie says, her voice shaky as my hand lands on her waist. The girls’ voices are loud but distant, echoing around the sparsely furnished living room. So in a moment of weakness I allow my head to tilt down into the crook of Izara’s neck, inhaling the fruity, gentle jasmine scent of her perfume, nuzzling my nose against her goosebump forming skin. I feel her shift, the curve of her ass pressing against me as I allow my lips to press soft kisses onto her golden skin.

The dark haired girl lets out a shaky breath and the sound drives me wild, it taking every drop of my self discipline not to make everyone leave just so I could have my way with her, just to make her feel good. Izzie’s head tilts back, resting against my chest as I bite on her shoulder, my lips gliding and leaving sloppy kisses on her neck.

“Paige,” she whispers chuckling, clearly torn between asking me to stop and asking for more.

“You’re fucking killing me,” I murmur into her ear, my voice hoarse and trembling with need. 

The girl turns around, her green, emerald eyes wider than usual looking up at me as her hand moves onto my chest. I let my fingertips slide underneath the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft skin there. “We’ll have time. Later,” she comforts me softly, but it’s not enough.

I throw my head back in frustration and groan, like a child not getting their way.

“Izzie I’m so forreal, I need to have you before the game tomorrow or I’mma be so out of it.”

The girl giggles, shaking her head, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Come over in the morning?”

“I gotta leave at 10. Needa take my time with you.”

Izzie chuckles. “Okay, 8:30?”

“8:00,” I argue, though no amount of time would be enough.

“Do you need two hours?” The girl laughs but I shake my head, trying to stifle the grin on my face.

“Ion need more than five minutes ma, trust,” my words make Izzie’s cheeks turn a shade of red. “But need to take my time. Wanna do it just right.”

Izara might be poised and have a great poker face, but I can tell she needs it as bad as I do. It’s in the way her chest is heaving, the way her pupils are wide and the way her mouth is parted. So I lean in, my lips hovering over her ear.

“Gonna eat that pussy so good ma, gonna have you crying-”

“Yooo…”

I pull away urgently, helped by the fact that Izzie practically pushes me off her, both our heads turning to KK standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh.

“Uhh, I’mma be back,” she says turning around but I grab the shorter girl by the arm and pull her back in.

“Whatchu need?”

Izzie is blushing, trying to hide the smile growing onto her face by holding her hand over her mouth and staring at the wall.

“A tissue, I dropped some food,” KK says.

I gasp. “Bro not on the rug right?”

KK scoffs, grabbing the tissue from me. “Dallas changed you already ‘cause why you care about a rug more than me?”

-

Paige

Yo I’m so sorry I gotta head in early

That’s okay Paige, good luck. I’ll see you before the game, yeah?

I reread the texts on my screen that I never got an answer to. I’m not worried, she’s probably nervous. Or busy. But it’s so… unlike her. Paige was usually the one to message me back the moment I texted her. I was probably overthinking. I hated how I got when I liked someone. Not that I liked Paige. I wanted her badly. But there were no feelings involved and there surely could never be. I wasn’t even close to being ready.

Despite all that I could feel an uncomfortable twist somewhere deep in my stomach watching the way the blonde girl had left me on read. Like I always did when I began to get feelings. I was painfully aware of how scary it was, those feelings stirring within me again. I just had to keep them in control. I know how these things end. I know Paige seems amazing right now - unreal almost. But it was just an illusion. Soon she’d be bored of me, leaving me in tears, crying myself to sleep at 3am. That’s how it always ended up. I promised myself I’d never be that girl again.

-

“Jasper, please, could we just sit down and communicate?”

My voice is steady, gentle, like it had to be when he was in one of these moods. I sit on the couch, watching as he paces around me, trying not to blow up. I try to make myself small, breathe quiet, not look him in the eye, anything that might set him off. Once Jasper was set off there was nothing to do. I knew that better than anyone.

“Here we go again,” he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. A bitter, sarcastic laugh escapes his mouth.

“No, not like that, please. I swear I just want to talk-”

“No Izara you want to bitch about my drinking again. You’re behaving like a controlling bitch-”

There’s a pang of pain in my chest, the tears I’ve been swallowing making themselves known as my eyes grow wet.

“Please, Jasper, I’ve asked you before not to call me that,” I plead, my voice still soft but growing weaker.

The man rolls his eyes at the sight of me. “Wow, here we go again. Poor Zari, always perfect, always the victim.”

“I never said I was perfect, far from it! I’m just asking you to not call me a bitch,” I debate, my voice rising in response to feeling defensive.

“I didn’t even say you were a bitch! I said you’re behaving like one!” His voice is harsh, cutting through the air and ringing my ear painfully. Familiarly. This was a discussion we’d had about 15 times before. And it always went the same. I don’t even know why I was still trying. 

“God, you’re so manipulative, trying to put words into my mouth,” he murmurs under his breath. He’d said those words so many times part of me had started to think he might be right. Maybe I am manipulative. Maybe I need to just let him be. I’m being dramatic and his drinking wasn’t an issue. Jasper never physically hurt me or hit me. It could be so much worse. Words can only do so much.

I feel the tears spill over finally, dripping down my cheeks. As Jasper notices he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “What, you’re crying now? Like you’re the victim here?”

“Jasper, please, I’m tired,” I cry, my voice shaky as I bury my face into my hands. “Can we just forget this and go to sleep? I’ve got that important meeting tomorrow.”

“Well probably should’ve thought of that before, huh? Before starting all this drama for nothing!”

“I just wished you wouldn’t have been so drunk tonight! I was having a hard day, I needed you with me!” I finally snap, yelling back. I never yell, but sometimes with Jasper it felt like it was the only way for him to hear me. Even though I always hated myself afterwards.

“So what? I’m a bad boyfriend? Worst boyfriend in the world?”

“No, that’s not what I said-”

“Fine, if I’m so bad I’ll leave,” Jasper simply says. walking to the entryway, grabbing his coat off the coat rack. Urgently, I get up and run after him, panic spreading all over me. He knew this triggered me. He did this every time he was about to “lose” one of our fights. Because it hurt me the most.

“Wait, wait wait wait,” I cry, my voice weak and trembling as I grab his arm. “Please no, don’t go, please, Jasper, please.”

He ignores me, pulling his arm out of my reach and looking for his keys.

“Jasper,” I sob, legs too shaky to hold me up anymore. I fall to my knees, trying not to throw up all over the man. “Jasper, please. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m too hard on you. You’re so wonderful to me. I love you okay, I love you. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

The man finally turns, looking down at me and shaking his head as my wide eyes blink up at him. With a deep sigh, he puts down his keys and lifts me up from the ground.

“Are you done?” He asks, voice frustrated and tired.

I nod, tears still spilling from my eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go. Please.”

“I won’t Izara, but these fits of yours need to end,” Jasper says as his comforting, familiar arms wrap around me.

“You’re right, Jasper. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

-

My cab finally pulls up to College Park Center, and I quickly slide in through the side door, making my way through the confusing corridors with practiced ease now. I wanted to find the blonde girl, just to make sure she was okay. Just to see her before the game. I check the gym, the weight room, the dining hall but see no sign of her. Finally, as a last resort, I knock on the door of the dressing room, shifting on my feet and smoothing over my black mini skirt and the red sweater hanging off my right shoulder nervously. At last the door opens, Lou peeking her head out with a smile.

“Oh hey.”

“Hey Lou, happy game day!” I greet her, trying to not make it obvious I was looking for someone. Like I was just casually there to wish the girls good luck.

“Thanks Zari, big day,” the girl smiles, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh, uh, is um, is-”

“Paige is here, you need her?” I don’t miss the grin on the brunette’s face, the knowing look she has in her eyes. Thought I had been hiding it better with Paige, apparently not.

“Yes, actually I do,” I chuckle awkwardly, clasping my hands in front of me, acrylics scratching against my skin. My heart races as I wait, my stomach turning at the idea of seeing her. Seeing Paige.

Soon the blonde girl arrives at the door, but the familiar wide smile isn't there. Her eyes look red, tired, the skin darker than usual underneath, mouth in a straight line. 

“Paige, are you okay?” I ask, taken back by her appearance.

She looks at me for a while, blue eyes landing on mine, big hand rubbing her jaw. “I’m alright.”

I can tell that she’s not. 

“Paige,” I repeat, looking at her challengingly. The blond sighs and shrugs and it’s then I notice the shaking of her hands. Uncontrollable, clearly visible. “Whoa, what’s going on darling?”

She looks back into the changing room before stepping out, shaky hand rubbing her eyes. I don’t miss the slight tremble of her lower lip, the way her blue eyes grow glossy.

“Whoa, hold on love,” I coo, grabbing a hold of her hand and pulling her into a new corridor, opening the door to the often empty media team office to find it desolate of people once more. “Come on.”

I close the door behind us and watch closely as the blonde plots herself down on the couch, chest heaving fast. 

“Paige, talk to me,” I comfort her, following behind and sitting next to her. As the blonde lifts her blue eyes off the floor, I see she’s tearing up avoiding my gaze.

“I’m so fucking scared Iz,” she admits, lower lip quivering. My heart fills with affection, and instinctively I wrap my arms around her broad, bare shoulders in her sports bra. 

“Of what?”

“Of screwing up, everyone got crazy expectations. Everyone gonna be watching,” Paige sighs, sniffling weakly. I had never seen her like this, in my head she wasn’t afraid of anything. Guess I was wrong.

“Paige,” I begin, pulling back and grabbing hold of her warm hands. “It’s a big moment, it’s okay to be nervous, to be scared even. But you’re not gonna fail. The only expectations that matter are the ones you put on yourself.”

“I don’t know, I love my girls y’know but fuck I don’t need em here today,” she sighs, wiping a tear from her left cheek. I let my thumb help her a little, brushing against her soft skin. 

“They wanted to surprise you, they love you very much, you know?”

“I know,” Paige murmurs, her thumbs rubbing the skin of my palms. “But I just needed to focus on myself today. I dunno, just feel really fucking overwhelmed.”

“Hey,” I stop her, chasing her gaze. The blonde’s blue eyes meet mine, finally softening. “You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to pretend it’s just you and your team at practice. No audience today, no one you know watching. Just you. And whether you get none of your shots in or all of them, it’s okay. And you get to try again. You’re just dipping your toes in okay? This isn't the defining moment of your career. It’s just one of many.”

Paige listens and takes every word in, processing as her eyes remain locked in mine. Finally her brows soften and she lets out a final, relieved breath. 

“My dad really liked you, talked about you all night after you left.”

“Really?” I grin, making the blonde nod with a smile. 

“My friends too, they wanna get to know you better,” Paige adds. I feel a slight panic in my chest for a moment, the fear of what Paige might’ve said to her friends about us. After all, we had agreed to be just friends despite everything. I hope she didn’t have the wrong idea that I might change my mind.

“Wish I had time to come see you this morning.”

I feel my cheeks heat up immediately. “Yeah?”

She nods, a small grin growing on her face. “Yeah, wouldn’t be feeling so tense.”

I chuckle as her hands let go of mine, landing on the back of my head and pulling me into a sweet, caring kiss that takes me by surprise. But I can’t bear to pull away, nor do I want to. So for a moment we kiss, our lips moving together sending jolts all over my body as the blonde’s hand lowers to my waist and pulls me closer to her. Without a thought my body obeys, skirt hiking up as she pulls me on top of her to straddle her.

Both of our breathing grows heavier as the kiss turns more urgent, Paige exhaling loud through her nose as her hand finds the soft skin of my bare upper thigh, grabbing it needily making me wince. I could feel my arousal pooling between my legs once more, the blonde’s hand sliding upwards until her thumb meets the sheer fabric of my panties, pressing against my clit. We both let out a quiet, desperate whimper, me from the contact, her from how wet I already was. 

This wasn’t sensible, anyone could walk in. Paige’s first ever game in the league would start in only a few hours and she had just been crying from feeling so overwhelmed. But both of us had forgotten, too consumed by the lust that had been eating us alive. I needed her. She needed me.

Paige pulls away from the kiss, long eyelashes blinking at me and pink lips slightly parted. She looked beautiful, like she was already completely out of it. 

“Need to feel you ma, please let me,” she whines, looking for any sign of approval on my face. “Need to feel this pussy around my fingers.”

No one had ever spoken in such a filthy way to me before. And it drove me crazy. The sheer dirtiness of the things Paige said, the way her voice turned hoarse and whiny, the way she really, truly behaved like she would die unless she got to fuck me. I had never experienced it before. Everything about it intoxicated me, my soaked panties prove of how much so.

“Paige, are you sure this is smart?” I ask, my voice weak and shaky.

“Ion care about smart, need to fuck you before my big game,” the blonde murmurs, beginning to kiss my neck, fingertips rubbing gentle circles on my clit against the fabric. “Please mama, need to make you cum, that’s all I want.”

I let out another whimper, her words winning me over.

“C’mon ma, can feel how wet you are for me. Lemme help baby, lemme take care of you.”

Finally I snap, desperately nodding. Without missing a beat, Paige’s fingers hook around the edge of my panties, pulling them to the side as I stay straddling her, feeling the cool air on my dripping cunt.

“This ain’t right. I gotta see that shit,” Paige murmurs and before I understand what she means, she’s pushing me back, my spine hitting the couch as she remains still, my thighs spread wide for her as she sits in between.

Paige’s blue eyes are nearly blown out black with lust as her gaze travels slowly from my flushed face, to my heaving chest, down my stomach, all the way to the panties slid to the side, finally landing on my core. I swear I have never seen the girl so dazed, like everything around her disappeared, her lips parting further, tongue darting out to lick them.

“Fuck,” she whispers, fingers spreading my lips apart to see my wetness glistening in the lighting of the office. To see my folds and the way I was already throbbing for her. I had never been looked at like that before, yet didn’t feel shy or unsure. Because I could tell Paige was in absolute awe.

“So fucking pretty, huh?” The blonde asks, finger carefully brushing up and down against my folds and clit, making my whole body shiver. She was barely touching me yet I couldn’t fight the whine spilling from my lips. This was so unlike me, spread out in overhead lighting in a room anyone could walk into at any moment with a girl I hadn’t even been out on a date with. But it was the last thing I cared about. I needed Paige Bueckers to fuck me now.

“Paige, fuck me,” I demand, my voice breathy and brows furrowed as I watch her.

A sly grin forms on her lips as she gathers wetness through my folds with ease, beginning to circle my clit lazily. The sound is obscene, caused by how slick I had grown for her in the past few minutes. I moan softly, covering my own mouth and letting my eyes fall closed.

“What do you need? Tell me baby,” Paige coos, but she knows. She can see the way my pussy is clenching around nothing, crying for her, begging to be filled. 

“Baby,” I whimper, bucking my hips but the blonde’s free hand brings me down by my thigh.

“Use your words ma.”

“Inside,” I whisper, cheeks growing redder at having to tell the girl with words what I needed from her.

“Yeah? You need my fingers inside your pussy?”

I nod, the words making my arousal grow even more.

“Please,” I add, hoping to hurry the blonde along.

Suddenly, Paige’s fingers slide downwards towards my entrance, circling before two of them begin to break into me, painfully slowly. A loud gasp threatens to spill from my lips but the blonde covers my mouth quickly, her fingers sliding into me all the way. 

It’s impossible to describe how good it feels, to feel her touch me like this. The stretch of her fingers making my body tense and relax simultaneously. I was in heaven, surely sex never felt like this before. Only with her.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” Paige hisses, beginning to curl her fingers against me. The sound of squelching quickly takes over, only joined with both our moans. My back arches desperately, and I feel myself writhing for more, for the blonde to move faster.

It’s in the moment I’m about to start begging for more, the familiar sound of a keycard being slid against the reader takes over. Someone’s about to open the door. Both of us panic, Paige pulling her fingers away and quickly getting up from the couch as I struggle to get off my back, pulling my skirt down eagerly right as Trey walks in.

“Oh hey!” He smiles widely, oblivious to the heavy breathing me and Paige are both trying to get under control. “Oh Paige! Whatchu doing here?”

“Uh,” she murmurs, fingers still glistening with me before she wipes them on her thigh. “We uh,”

“We were planning that pregame interview! Should we film it soon?” I quickly interrupt, noticing Paige’s flustered expression. The shake in my legs is obvious, so I lean against the wall next to me.

“Yeah yeah, the interview,” the blonde murmurs which makes Trey’s brown eyes light up.

“Well great! Why don’t you go change and we film after.”

Paige glances at me as I do her, both of us trying to ignore the tension in the room that the man seemed to not recognise.

“Uhh yeah, lemme go do that,” the taller girl mumbles and leaves, my heart pounding faster than ever from earlier. As she closes the door, Trey turns to me.

“By the way Zari, we shouldn’t let anyone back here that isn’t part of the team, okay? Linda would freak.”

“Oh,” I say, brushing my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Trey looks at me for a while, leaning back against the desk behind him.

“You know, it’s okay to be friends with players but I think it’s better to keep things at a professional distance. Don’t wanna be getting too close, you know what I mean?”

I can tell he’s digging for something, trying to get me to fess up. Instead I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Agreed, shall we prepare the interview?”

-

“Okay, Paige, stand here.”

Trey is maneuvering the blonde around, trying to find the best lighting as I check my notes over and over, my mind still swirling with all the interrupted moments that are growing tiresome. Paige is fiddling with her hands, staring at anything but me feeling just as frustrated by the interruption.

“Ahh, got it. Zari, would you.”

“Yes,” I murmur and step next to the blonde, a slight awkward distance between us. Every cell in me was itching to get closer, to press into her. I was dying for her. But it wasn’t the time. I had to focus on work. It was just hard to look away from her. That’s it.

“Closer Zari,” Trey chuckles, reaching for my shoulder and pushing me closer to Paige. We exchange an awkward, slightly giddy smile and I can tell the girl is beginning to blush, our shoulders pressing together. The blonde gazes upwards towards the low ceilings of the corridor, trying to kill the smile growing on her face.

“Okay, we good?” Trey asks, and I let out a soft giggle. Paige looks at me and giggles too, confusing the man behind the camera. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, we’re good,” I giggle, looking to the floor. The blonde nods in agreement, licking her lips to stifle the grin.

“Whenever you’re ready ladies,” Trey says, pressing record.

I take a deep breath, turning my eyes to the blue ones beside me. The ones I could get lost in forever. But now wasn’t the time. Not the time Izara. Work.

“I am here with our dear rookie, Paige,” I smile, licking my lower lip and looking away from the blonde, her intense gaze becoming too much. “First game today, how are we feeling?”

Paige kisses her teeth and sighs. “Oh man,” she starts, blue eyes boring into the side of my face. “It feels surreal, I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life and now it’s finally here. Feelin’ really blessed and fortunate for sure. Playing my first against the Lynx just feels right, you know.”

I watch as her lips move, the way the edges of them curve when she speaks, barely registering the words coming out from how badly I needed her. 

“Favourite thing about Dallas so far?” I ask, crossing my arms and smiling up at the blonde. Her blue eyes are sparkling, a slight glimmer in them as she watches me with a smirk. As if the camera wasn’t filming every moment.

“Oh definitely the ribs,” Paige grins, suddenly interrupted by Arike standing at the other end of the corridor.

“Yooo, bro what?!” 

Me and Paige both begin to laugh, leaning into each other as we do. My hand instinctively graces her forearm as Trey pangs the camera to Arike.

“Alright, alright. And Arike,” Paige chuckles, making me scoff.

“Oy!” I shout, slapping her arm playfully.

“And you!” She grins, raising her hands in defeat. I can’t help the blush covering my face or the stupid smile stretching across.

“As I should be,” I joke, taking a deep breath and trying to remind myself of the planned questions and of Trey’s watchful eyes. It felt impossible under Paige’s gaze so intensely roaming my face, eye fucking me.

“You’ve got some friends and family in the audience tonight, who are you most excited to see you play tonight?”

The blonde looks at me for a meaningful moment, and I don’t miss what she wants to say. What she’s trying to express with her eyes. What she can’t admit in front of Trey.

“Uhh,” she blinks stupidly, finally breaking eye contact. “Probably my dad, yeah. But I’m excited to play for all the Wings fans too, needa impress them.”

“I’m sure you will,” I smile, my tone clearly flirty yet I don’t even recognise the fact. “Happy game day!!”

“Happy game day,” Paige echoes my words, wrapping an arm around my shoulder just as Trey puts the camera down. Yet the man keeps staring over at the two of us, studying every move, every exchanged look.

“Paige! Go change and let’s start warming up, c’mon!” Chris nods the blonde towards the lockers. I see her eyes turn to me once more, softening. 

“Wish me luck ma,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I let her.

“Good luck Paige,” I mumble into her eyes, letting go and watching as she walks into the dressing room, leaving me alone with Trey. I could feel nerves bubbling in my stomach, heart beginning to pound in anticipation for the game. The man watches me for a while, deep in thought.

“Zari…. I gotta ask you something,” the man starts, his voice echoing in the corridor. He walks us to our office letting me know this wasn’t going to be a light subject, which made me nervous.

I sit on the desk, my legs hanging off as I cross them and watch the brunette pace around the room for a moment before turning to me. 

“Is there something going on with you and Paige?”

Fuck.

I think about lying, looking through my brain for any cover up story. There isn’t one. I was a horrible liar anyway. So I just sigh, looking down before nodding.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean for there to be but I like her. She likes me,” I admit, carefully looking at the man. “Look, it’s nothing though. Nothing serious, just fun.”

“For fucks sake Zari,” Trey sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“Excuse me?” I ask offended. Sure, it wasn’t great, but he was hugely overreacting.

Trey walks over to me and grabs a hold of my hands, stopping much too close to my liking.

“Zari, Linda is very… strict. You know this. But she does not allow anything like this, she must’ve told you? She gave me this big speech too when I came in.”

I blink at him, my lips parting a little. It wasn’t allowed. That’s it. That simple.

“Wh- no she never said,” I murmur. Trey nods, letting out a sigh.

“Zari you have to end it. You could get fired.”

My heart drops, mind starts spinning. I could get fired. Have to go back to the UK. Just like that. Fired. Just because I didn’t have the self-discipline to resist Paige.

“Trey, you’re not going to-”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. Linda won’t know. But only if you end it now, okay? If she finds out I know I could get in trouble too.”

I look at the walls, covered in pictures of the entire Dallas Wings overtime, faces changing and some persisting year after year. I finally land on this year’s picture, on the blonde standing on the right side, smiling that familiar, wide, charming smile. It didn’t matter how much I liked her, how badly I needed her on me. None of it would matter if I got fired, if I got my visa revoked. I couldn’t do this dance we’d been playing the past month anymore. I had to end it.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[skleech]

The parallels between The Good Hunter and Simon the Harrowed

i'm putting the entirety of this essay under here because it's long as hell. enjoy reading it ig

Yup. it's one of those essays

I had previously written a very miniature essay on comparing the similarities between Simon the Harrowed and Eileen the Crow, as at the end of the day when you look back you can see some amount of parallels between the two (though i suppose that could be seen as subjective too at the end of the day.)

However, whilst it can be argued about whether or not those two have a strong parallel between each other, this essay is not about these two.

Instead, I'm going to be looking at another character that I believe shows probably some of the strongest shared parallels when put aside Simon.

“And who might that character be?” I hear you ask. Well dear viewer, i’m glad you asked.

That character would be none other than you! Or, I suppose more specifically the Good Hunter themselves.

Throughout the whole DLC all the way to the end of not only Simon's questline but once you reach the end boss, I believe it can be evident that Simon the Harrowed and the Good Hunter show probably some of the strongest parallels between each other (and I suppose when you step back and look at the game as a whole there are other npcs throughout that also show strong parallels with the player, though this essay is simply discussing their similarities between Simon specifically)

But before i can actually go into depth about these two and just how similar they are to each other, I’m firstly going to need to list just what makes them so similar eg. their goals, what they do and how that progresses/adds to the general plot of Bloodborne.

Let’s firstly look at Simon, as I believe this would start things off a little easier.

Some of Simon’s goals listed include:

Exposing the church for their transgressions, evidenced from pretty much most of his dialogue but includes dialogue pieces such as:

Presumably ending the Hunter’s Nightmare, evidenced with such pieces of dialogue as:

Whilst less clear, it can also be argued that Simon’s other goals can also include trying to figure out just what the hell is going on in the Nightmare realm (considering that’s his whole deal anyways), evidence when he states:

Now that we’ve gone over Simon’s goals, let's take a look at the Good Hunter’s, and we’ll see just how closely they parallel each other.

Whilst the goals of the good hunter varies depending on how people play the game, by default some of their goals include:

Exploring Yharnam (slaying beasts in the process of course) and uncovering the secrets within (seeing the parallels already?)

Discovering the Healing Church and just what happened to cause the current situation happening in Yharnam 

When entering and exploring the Hunter’s Nightmare, The Good Hunter can have the option to choose whether or not they want to help put an end to the suffering, eventually ending the nightmare once and for all if they choose to fight the Orphan of Kos)

Now that I've listed these two’s goals, this should now give me a good chance to start actually discussing how similar these two are.

When the Good Hunter first comes across Simon, the first and probably biggest piece of evidence that hints at their similarity is when Simon himself states right off the bat:

now, this is probably a fairly obvious piece of evidence that right off the bat can be used to show the parallels between the Good Hunter and Simon the Harrowed as the two meet (after the Hunter explores the very beginning of the Hunter's Nightmare), but it's nonetheless a good piece of dialogue that shows these two's similarities.

Simon also finishes his dialogue off by warning the Good Hunter of the Church's less desirable way of keeping folk away from prying into their business, which the Good Hunter no doubt has much personal experience from these attempts (e.g possibly seen with fight between Vicar Amelia as well as a few other examples)

this final part that Simon mentions could also potentially be seen as some foreshadowing for what the Good Hunter will come to witness as they venture through the DLC, but we're getting side tracked.

Anyways, from this it can be gathered that already from the beginning of Simon's starting dialogue with the Good Hunter that the two already show some strong parallels between each other, both being hunters having experienced the hostility of the church. Furthermore, their parallels can also be seen not just through their goals but also the circumstances on how they got to where they are now from when Simon possibly hints of 'taking the wrong turn'.

Further examples of Simon and the Good Hunter's shared goals of uncovering the secrets of the Healing Church as well as the Nightmare can also be shown through this piece of dialogue from after the Good Hunter finishes off Ludwig:

the final line from this piece of dialogue can possibly used as another example of how Simon the Harrowed and the Good Hunter themselves share the goal of discovering the secrets as well as the transgressions caused by the church, evident with how Simon expresses both of their desires to unveil these secrets along with further motivating the player to continue on with their journey through the Hunter's Nightmare

Now, later towards the middle of the DLC, when the Good Hunter finishes off Ludwig and manages to reach the Research Hall, Simon re-appears and gives more insight into the church as well as guiding the Good Hunter further onto their journey.

Here, Simon's disillusionment of the Healing Church is further evident within this dialogue piece, as well as further enticing the Good Hunter to continue on with their shared journey of discovering the secrets left behind by the Healing Church (further highlighted when Simon eventually pushes the player to kill Lady Maria to continue on with their journey, but that's a discussion for another day)

(Okay, now here's where I'm gonna go a small diverge in order to continue explaining the shared parallels between the Good Hunter, but bear with me here as I try and explain this point)

Whilst throughout this whole essay I've mainly been using dialogue examples as a way to emphasise these two's similarities, I feel like it would be careless of me to not mention how this can be highlighted through the actions/dialogue of OTHER npcs.

What npcs?

For this, I'm going to use Brador as a way to further explain the similarities of Simon and the player.

Firstly, I feel this idea can be mainly evident from the fact that Brador, once the Good Hunter begins to go in further with uncovering the church's secrets (the biggest being the Fishing Hamlet just by that being the moment Brador begins to hunt down the player), where if killed by him, Brador states:

(this piece of dialogue is important when it comes to Simon himself as he eventually falls victim to this 'unending death' that Brador emphasises)

Other lines from Brador that can also potentially help in conveying the similarity between Simon and the Good hunter include:

(I feel like my point from above can also be used to explain this, but I'm adding this dialogue just help with what I'm trying to explain here)

When the Good Hunter meets Simon for the final time, during his death dialogue Simon will give the player one final push to ending the Hunter's Nightmare once and for all, stating:

and:

once more emphasising the importance for the Good Hunter further uncover the secrets of the Fishing Hamlet in order for the Nightmare to end, which can be used as evidence to convey the parallels between as the two as the Good Hunter is seemingly given the mantle to continue Simon's own end goal (which is also the player's end goal too but you get what I mean)

(Also, not the biggest piece of evidence to highlight their similarities, but It's one I sorta want to discuss here as a potential idea here)

After Simon dies, the Good Hunter will be given both the underground chamber key and Simon's own weapon, the Bowblade (which also finally gives away Simon's name to the player). The Bowblade specifically I find important here in this discussion as I feel this can be used a way to convey Simon 'passing over the torch' to the player, giving not only the means to get rid of Brador with the keys to his cell (interesting that even though he had the means to kill Brador himself, he never did, but that's a potential discussion for another day because this essay will get way to long if I try and shove this in here hh-), but also his own weapon. With this, I believe this can be used as a way to explain their parallels as the player is essentially now given Simon's role; which is to now put an end to the nightmare once and for all (this might seem like a stretch but It's a point i wanted to point out nonetheless)

If the player decides to go back to confront Brador (after being given the key to his cell upon the death of Simon), Brador after being killed by player says this line upon his death:

the line of "nothing changes" can be further used as evidence for the parallels of the Good Hunter and Simon as both are described to having 'pried' into the business of the church despite the consequences (as gracefully shown through what Brador did to Simon and probably many other during his lifetime working with the church).

At the end of the day, it really does depend on how the player themselves play as the Good Hunter and how they interact with Simon (if at all) that can support this idea of Simon the Harrowed and the Good Hunter having parallels between their actions and their own goals. However, towards the end of writing this I do hope I was at least able to show some evidence that can support this idea of how closely these two's goals intertwine with each other as well as both characters being somewhat of a representation of each other.

[ginax0916]

✩ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 ✩

Sturniolo Triplets x bsf!fem!reader

Synopsis: The triplets try a period cramp simulator thinking it’ll be easy.

Warnings: period cramps ig?

*this is js platonic :)*

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆

“Hey guys welcome back to our YouTube! Today we have our best friend y/n here with us” Nick said as I waved to the camera smiling.

“Tell them what we’re doing today since you’ve been so enthusiastic about making this video” Matt says clearly not happy about the video idea.

“Well if you watched the boys stream the other day, Matt brought up that he bought a period cramp simulator but they’ve refused to use it. So with a little bit of begging and buying Chris a whole box of Pepsis I convinced them to film the video” I laughed excited to see their reactions to it.

“I’m so not excited for this” Chris groaned.

“I honestly don’t think it’s gonna be that bad” Nick says confidently.

“Whatever you say” I say giggling.

“Ok who first?” I ask.

“AHH OH MY GOD” Nick suddenly screams.

“What?” We all say scared from his sudden yelling.

“I searched up how bad period cramps hurt and it says that they can hurt as bad as a heart attack oh my lord” Nick says clearly scared out of his mind.

“Holy fuck” Matts jaw drops.

“Damn bro you gotta go through this shit every month?” Chris asks genuinely concerned.

“Unfortunately” I sigh.

“Alright who first?” I ask again, setting up all the equipment.

“Not it!” Chris screams.

“Not it!!” Nick screams right after him.

“Fuck fuck no” Matt panics.

“Ok come on Matt sit in the chair” I laugh.

“No I can’t I can’t” Matt says as he reluctantly sits in the chair.

“You’ll be fine” I giggle. “Ok lift up your shirt” I say.

“Oooooh it’s getting freaky” Chris says.

“Oh shut up” Nick slaps his arm.

I put the patches on Matt’s stomach and laughed at his flinching every time I put one on.

“Ok are you ready?” I ask him.

“Oh fuck Chris hold my hand” Matt says to Chris who was standing next to me.

“Ok we’ll start easy on level 1” I turn the machine on to the lowest level. Matt’s eyes close for a second and then he breathes out.

“Ok ok not that bad” He sighs.

“Level 2” I say turning the machine up a bit.

“Still not too bad just feels like a Stich” Matt says letting go of Chris’s hand.

“Level 3”

“Ok this one’s got a bit of a kick but not too bad” He breathes out again.

“4”

“Ow fuck this one feels like the type of stomachache you have after having too much hot sauce on something” He says making us all laugh.

“Level 5”

“Level 6”

“AH FUCK FUCK” Matt yells in pain reaching out for Chris’s hand again.

“Level 7”

“Oh my god stop it actually hurts like a bitch” Matt whimpers in pain.

“Someone’s gonna edit that” Nick comments making everyone laugh.

“Level 8”

“Y/n stop holy fucking shit I can’t” He moans in pain again. His head falling back as he closes his eyes.

“Come on get to 10 Matt” I say turning it up to level 9.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK” He moans loudly making his brothers laugh.

“And level 10” I say.

“Oh god. Oh fuck I can’t oh my god” Matt says gripping my arm with one hand and Chris’s hand with his other. Nick stood behind him massaging his shoulders dying of laughter.

“Ah- fuckkk” He whimpers “It hurts so bad fuck” Matt moans.

“How does it feel?” I ask softly.

“Turn it the fuck off oh my god” He moans.

“There you go” I say turning it off.

“Holy shit” He sighs in relief.

“Was it Bad?” Chris questions.

“It was fucking hell” Matt says clutching his stomach.

“Alright who next” I chuckle.

“Chris rock paper scissors shoot” Nick says.

“Ok ok loser goes” Chris states the obvious.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot” They play and Nick looses.

“FUCK OFF” Nick screams as get gets in the chair. 

I place the patches on him just like I did with Matt.

“You ready?” I ask.

“Fuck is Turn it up to level 4 straight away it can’t be that bad” Nick says with confidence but also fear.

“Damn Nick alright” I say turning it up to level 4.

“HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD” Nick screams gripping the chair so hard his knuckles look like they might turn white.

“See Nick it is that bad” Matt says laughing.

“Shut up I realize that now” Nick says trying to punch his brother.

“Level 5”

“Fucking hell” Nick groans in pain.

“Level 6”

“JESUS OH MY” He screams again.

“Level 7”

“I hate you for my making me do this oh my god” He moans in pain just like Matt.

“Level 8”

“FUCK FUCK FUCK NO IT HURTS SO BAD” Nick yells stomping his feet on the ground almost making the chair fall back.

“Damn relax you beast you’re gonna break our floor” Chris laughs.

“FUCK IT I CANT” Nick rips off the patches and runs into the living room screaming making everyone die of laughter.

“Oh come on Nick you didn’t even get to 10 I bet I could” Chris says teasing his brother.

“You sure about that Chris?” I say pushing his shoulder with mine.

“Oh I’m sure” He smiles sitting on the chair lifting his shirt up.

“There’s gonna be a shit ton of edits of this” Matt sighs covering his face with his hands.

“I’m looking forward to it” I laugh.

“Ok you ready?” I ask Chris.

“Go for it” He replies, closing his eyes in fear.

“You’re Fine Chris this is only level 1” I say as I turn it on.

“Ok not bad Like Matt Said” he says.

“Level 2” He gets through all the easy levels not making a noise only scrunching his face once in a while. Even on level 4 he barely has a reaction.

“Damn Chris” I say stunned.

“Holy fuck dude I was screaming” Nick says baffled at Chris’s pain tolerance.

“Level 5”

And again no reaction from Chris, only a slight scrunch of his face.

“Bro how” Matt raises his voice flabbergasted at his brother.

“Alright Chris you’re doing a little too good I’m gonna turn it up to 8 which is where Nick gave up” I speak up wanting to see him have a reaction.

“Alright I’m ready” Chris breathes out.

“Ok Level 8” I turn it up.

“Ok fuck fuck this one actually hurts” Chris whimpers and grabs my arm.

“Level 9” I say happy that Chris finally reached a pain limit.

“Oh my god wait this actually hurts -ah fuck” He moans throwing his head back and squeezing my hand harder.

“I’m actually surprised you lasted that long without a reaction Chris” Matt says rubbing his shoulder still surprised.

“And level 10” I turn it up to the max.

“Ah- fuckkkkk it feels like a bunch of pin and needles playing with my intestines” He groans.

“Do you want me to turn it off ?” I ask him.

“No I wanna see how long I can last” Chris says whimpering again.

“That’s what she said” Nick bursts out laughing.

“Shut up Nick” I laugh.

“Oh my godddd -ah shit” Chris squirms in the seat scrunching his face in pain. He moves one of his hand to cover his mouth which is letting out soft moans and whimpers.

“You sound like you’re having an orgasm” Nick points out laughing.

“Shut the fuck up you couldn’t even get to 10” Chris argues.

Matt Starts uncontrollably laughing and rests his head on my shoulder as he laughs.

“You want me to turn it off now?” I ask.

“Fuck yes please oh god-” Chris groans in pain one last time before I turn the device off and take the patches off his stomach.

“I’m never doing that again” He sighs in relief and falls forward to rest on the table.

“I’m actually surprised you lasted that long” I say patting his back.

“That’s what she said” Nick laughs and runs away.

“SHUT UP NICK” Matt screams and chases after him.

“Well thanks for watching the video! Give it 100k likes for a part 2!” I say.

“NO NEVER” I hear them all scream.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆

I actually want them to do this video so bad 🙈

[kteezy997]

ok so this is random.Butvhear me out.So like lee X gn reader and you know we're on the road n' crap.So we pull up to like a gas Station reader goes inside to get food.BUT, we don't have enough money so we flirt with the cashier maybe a bit of name calling, ass slapping IDK¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯So we come out and lee has seen it all and he's really upset and mad and reader is like but we it's not like we're dating U jealous???And then lee confuses and reader says they also like them and Lee is all like I was just scared U were gonna leave.Amd it just ends in fluff.I know it's weird and U obviously don't have to do but like 🙏😊

when people send in requests mapping out the story and let me just add in a little razzle dazzle>>>

I hope it's okay that I made the reader female

You Belong to Me// Lee (Bones and All)

Warnings: cursing, angst, fluff, and everything that is in the request is in the fic so be sure to read that

It’s a long read. Enjoy.

You were in love with him, and he acted like he had no idea. How could he not know? You spent every waking hour together and even slept next to each other. How could he not see the lingering glances you gave, or how you would take any opportunity to touch his arm, or his shoulder? He was so damn beautiful, and so protective of you, but it was more like a friend type of thing. You were certain that was how he thought of you: his friend and travel companion.

You knew he had a past, that maybe he had done some things that he wasn't proud of. You had no idea what things. But you knew that it was enough for Lee to not want to get too close to you. You were growing tired of his closed off demeanor.

"We gotta get gas." he said, turning on his blinker and pulling into the filling station.

Night was falling outside. You didn't know where the hell you were, just somewhere in Kentucky. Everything looked the same, from the landscape to the gas stations that were planted every fifty miles or so.

Lee got out and started to pump gas.

You looked into the little convenience store across the way and saw a young male employee at the register. You grinned to yourself. Now was finally your chance to mess with Lee, to see if you could make him jealous.

You got out of the truck as well, waltzing over to the driver's side where Lee was filling the gas tank. "I'm gonna go inside." you said to him.

"Okay, just don't spend too much money. We gotta make it last." he replied, looking up at you, his red hair shining pink-ish under the lights of the gas station.

You put your hands in your pockets nonchalantly as you walked over to the store.

Once inside, you smiled at the guy behind the counter, he was kinda cute, not as handsome as Lee, but he was decent looking. He nodded at you with a smirk and wasn't shy about checking out your ass as you walked by.

You decided to pick up something useful, so you grabbed some feminine pads and tampons. You knew exactly what to do. As you brought the items up to the counter, you noticed that Lee had a perfect view of you checking out from outside.

"How are you on this fine evening, darlin'?"

The man spoke to you, bringing you out of your Lee trance. "Oh, I'm fine, how are you?"

"Oh, much better since you walked in." he said with a hearty southern laugh as he started to scan your items.

You let out a fake laugh, and batted your eyelashes at him, placing your hands on the counter as he rang you up.

"You and your boyfriend just passing through?" he asked, gruffly.

"Oh yeah," you looked out the window at Lee, he was screwing the lid back on to the gas cap. "But he's not my boyfriend. He's just a friend, ya know?"

"Oh really? Well, maybe I could convince you to spend the night in town? I get off in an hour, and there's a real nice motel down the road.”

What a sleazebag, you thought. But you had to play this off. You knew without even looking that Lee was watching. "Hmm, that is really tempting...how much do I owe you?"

His smirk fell a little when he had to look at the small screen where your transaction was added up, "It's uh $6.50, dear."

"Oh no, I don't have that much." you bit your lip, shifting on your feet innocently.

"Well, that's okay. A pretty girl like you needs a break. It's on the house." he said with a wave of his hand.

You looked over at Lee, leaning against the side of the truck with his arms folded across his chest. Then you looked back at the clerk, "Really? Are you sure? I'd hate to not give you anything for this stuff."

He grinned, leaning toward you with a nasty grin. "Maybe you could just give me a kiss for now, and we'll call it even."

You gulped, glancing to Lee for a second, then nodded at the stranger, "Okay, just a tiny one?"

The clerk nodded.

You leaned over the counter, your ass was now high in the air. You pecked the man on the cheek quickly, but you still got a whiff of his minty chewing tobacco. The smell almost made you sick to your stomach. You'd rather smell the occasional cigarette Lee smoked.

As you got back to your feet, the clerk reached around and smacked you right on the ass. It hurt, and you weren't happy about it, but you knew it was the perfect action to send Lee over the edge. The bell at the top of the store door chimed within seconds. The man behind the counter hadn't even stopped chuckling at what he had done.

Lee was more angry than you had ever seen him. "Y/n, everything okay in here?" He was fuming and he looked so hot, his hands were balled into fists.

"Yeah, fine." you chirped, grabbing your feminine products from the counter. "Thank you, sir, very much." you sang, smiling at the clerk, then turning on your heels to exit the store, bumping into Lee's arm for good measure.

"See you in an hour, sweetheart!" the clerk called after you.

"The fuck you will!" Lee spat immediately to the other man.

You giggled as you let the door close behind you, but Lee was on your trail.

"What the hell was that, y/n?" he barked.

"What ever do you mean?" you teased, hopping into your side of the truck.

Lee quickly got into the driver’s seat, “Don’t give me that shit, why would you let some asshole touch you like that? Who knows what he could have done to you?”

“Why would you care, Lee? It’s not like we’re dating!”

“I care about your safety, y/n, you know that.” he said, starting up the truck and pulling out of the gas station. You were on the road again.

“Well, there’s no harm in flirting if I want to.” you pointed out.

“Sure there is. You can’t trust strangers. You’re smarter than that.”

“Okay, Dad. Damn.” you mocked him with a huff, and crossed your arms, laying your head on the window. You felt defeated in your attempt to get him to like you. You started to think that he really didn’t see you as anything more than just a travel buddy.

“Don’t call me that.” Lee scoffed. “Look, I’m sorry. It just pissed me off that that motherfucker thought he could put his hands on my girl like that.”

Your heart started you beat hard in your chest when you realized what he had said. “Wait…what?” You looked over at him, his hand in his hair at the top of his head. Did he just let that slip? Was he oblivious to what he had said?

“What?” he frowned at you, then kept his eyes on the road.

“Do you know what you just said? You said my girl.”

Lee couldn’t stop the strange little smile that toyed with the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. You’re my girl.” He shrugged. “That’s how I like to think of you. Is that weird?” He put his hand on his cheek, then his fingers laid over his mouth. He looked over at you, waiting for your response.

You felt so warm in your chest, your whole body became tingly with happiness. But you didn’t want to ruin the moment in any way. You didn’t want to push him. You knew Lee, and even though he seemed so abrasive, it was because he was so fragile on the inside. You would let him come to you. “No, it’s not weird. I’m glad to hear that, actually.”

Lee smiled, then turned his attention back to the road. He drove for a while and you sat in a comfortable silence. You desperately wanted to scoot closer to him, to touch him, to feel the warmth of his body, but not just yet.

“So you wouldn’t seriously meet some stranger at a motel, would you?” he asked you.

“Lee, I never thought about that guy for a second.”

A scrunched up look of confusion appeared on his face, “Then why did you flirt with him? Were you that bored?”

“No, I um, I wanted to see what you would do if you saw me acting like that.” you twiddled your thumbs absentmindedly.

“And why did you want that?”

“I don’t know. It feels silly to say it out loud. Maybe it’s stupid, but I wanted to try and make you jealous. Now I don’t know if you think of me that way or if we’re just…companions, but you should know that I-I”

“No.” he said, sharply, interrupting you.

“No?” you felt a lump in your throat.

“Just…let me take you somewhere. I wanna take you somewhere.” his voice trembled a little. Was he nervous? He was never nervous. Lee was always in control, he always knew what to do in every situation.

“Okay.” you cleared your throat, and looked down at your hands. You noticed how badly you were shaking.

Lee continued driving for a few minutes, then turned down a dirt road, off into the woods. “There’s a spot back here that I’ve been to before. It’s great for being alone and star gazing.”

You hummed in response, smiling lightly.

There was a decent sized patch of grass mapped out by many trees, and he parked the truck. “Seems like a good spot to call it a night.” he said, turning off the ignition.

You were upset that it seemed like he was brushing you off. Like whatever feelings you had didn’t matter because he couldn’t handle them.

You were lost in your thoughts, and you hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten out of the truck. Lee tapped on your window, giving you a light scare. “Hey, you coming?” he asked, opening your door.

He took your hand when you stepped out, and you felt a glimmer of hope strike you in the heart. You blushed as he led you to the back of the truck. He dropped your hand for a moment to open up the old, rusty tailgate with its signature creeks and clunks.

To your surprise, Lee spun around and grabbed you by the waist, picking you up and plopping you down on the tailgate. You giggled in response.

He carefully put his hands on the tops of your thighs, slowly parting them so he could nestle his hips between them. He smiled softly, and your heart skipped a beat as he touched your cheek, so delicately, like dipping his toe in the water.

“You belong to me, y/n. And I belong to you. We are part of each other.” his voice was so sweet and velvet, he had the ability to melt you on the inside.

You grinned at him, and wrapped your arms around his neck.

You heard him let out a soft breath as he hugged you. His hands rested on your back. You were both able to relax, and just be. Be together, in the moment without any barriers or hesitation.

“Lee, do I mean more to you than just a friend?” you asked, letting your fingers brush his curls idly.

“Hm.” he hummed, leaning back a tiny bit to look at you. The crinkles near the outside of his eyes creased as he grinned. He leaned in, you felt the warmth of his breath, and then the tender press of his lips on yours. He pulled away slightly, saying, “What do you think?” He then resumed kissing you, and tucked your legs around his waist.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @ducktapebar @kpopgirlbtssvt

[teavocationmagic]

spilled ink

sakusa kiyoomi x reader

you've spent the past few months mentally preparing to get the tattoo that means so much to you, conquering your intense fear of needles, and thankfully it'll be your bubbly bestie shouyo giving you this tattoo . . . right?

18+ (seriously please), banter city, grumpy-but-blushing kiyoomi & disaster-sunshine reader, fluff and semi hurt/comfort, mentions of needles/fear of them, allusions to sex (smut in later chapters)

a/n: so that sakusa x reader post i made over a year ago . . . not 3.5k. more than that. definitely more. anyway, here is chapter one of three ish??? much love, lav 💜💜

You catch the slight tremor in your hand once it’s on the door handle and give it a firm shake, as though you can wiggle the nerves right out of your body. This is fine, you force yourself to think as you push open the shop door. Everything is going exactly as planned. You’re on time for the appointment, Alisa is going to pick you up afterwards to get takeout and fall asleep watching movies on her couch, and Shouyo is going to be as kind and supportive as ever. 

You can do this. 

Inside, Black Jackal Tattoo & Piercing is quieter than the busy street outside, and the bustle of the sidewalk is swept away as the door closes behind you. The only sound is the click of a keyboard, the squeak of your shoes on the tiled floor, and a distant shrill sound that comes and goes as you make your way to the desk.

A head of ginger hair shoots up from behind the desk, fluffy like a dandelion head, and you manage some small relief when Shouyo grins at you from where he’s abandoned whatever paperwork he was typing up on the shop’s computer. 

“You’re here!” He comes rushing out from behind the desk to hug you - Shouyo Hinata has always been, for better or worse, a hugger - and you let him bounce around you for a moment while he does his eager-puppy routine. “Alisa said you were so nervous you almost puked last night, so I didn’t know if you’d show!”

“Of course I was gonna show,” you say with a wobbly laugh, fighting down the urge to actually puke all over Shouyo’s shoes. “You went through all the trouble of getting me a slot between your appointments, it’s the least I could do.” 

“Yeah,” Shouyo says, bright smile suddenly dimming and hand scratching the back of his neck. “For sure.” There’s a long pause while he watches you watch him, and you can already feel that bile rising -

“I can’t, um, actually do your appointment.”

“What the hell, dude?!” 

“Ow!” Shouyo grimaces, rubbing his shoulder, but you think he’s just being dramatic - you didn’t whack him that hard. “Rude! It wasn’t my idea, okay, but Atsumu called in sick -”

“Naturally.”

“- and I’m the only one whose slots will cover his afternoon appointment. It’s, like, this super big addition to some guy’s sleeve, and everyone else has appointments by four. It’s an emergency!”

You sigh through your nose, arms crossed tight over your chest as Shouyo pleads for you to understand. The tremble has returned to your hands, you notice, and you hope keeping them pressed under your arms hides the worst of it. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I really thought I could help -”

“Sho, it’s fine, I’ll just - I’ll come back another day.”

“I mean, you can still do it. I actually, um, wouldn’t recommend skipping the appointment now,” he adds, mouth twisting in thought, “Sakusa would be pissed. He kinda hates having people make last minute cancellations like that.” 

The name has you grimacing, and Shouyo definitely catches the recognition in your eyes, if his wince is anything to go by. A mental image of dark, piercing eyes and a permanent scowl flash through your head, and you let out a quiet sigh. 

Shouyo continues, “He’s, like, a total stickler for a schedule - not like Kita, but also not somebody you wanna piss off.” 

“So . . . you’re saying I still have an appointment?”

“Yeah!”

“With a total stranger? Who’s an asshole?” 

“Well, I mean . . . kind of?” Shouyo scrunches his face up, considering, and then nods again. “Yeah, pretty much.” 

“And why would I want to not only not have my friend with me,” you say, making Shouyo whine another apology, “but switch to having some random asshole coworker of his stab tiny needles into me instead?” 

“Y/N -”

“Because,” a low voice from the corner of the room says, “he isn’t some random asshole coworker of Hinata’s, but a competent and professional asshole coworker?” 

The voice sends a chill down your spine that has nothing to do with the shop’s impressively strong air conditioning. You know you’re going to have to turn around now, but your feet seem to move in slow motion, heart hammering as your eyes meet a dark glare from across the room. 

Sakusa, a.k.a. Shouyo’s competent and professional asshole coworker, is immediately too tall and too grouchy to be anything but intimidating. You can’t even gauge how tall he might be from across the room because you’re too busy trying not to stare directly into that deeply-etched frown, his brow furrowed so intently that you think the muscles might just freeze in that spot forever. He’s got his arms crossed, too, but you’re not sure what reason he has to be that guarded; after all, you’ll be the one being stabbed. 

You’ve at least confirmed why the name Sakusa sounded so familiar: this is the same Sakusa you met when Shouyo was first brought on at Black Jackal, stiff and frowning back then, too. You remember the glare he sent you and Shouyo from above his black face mask, hovering by the door of his little studio room, itching to dart back inside and close the door behind him. 

You also remember the delicate curl of the ivy on his shoulder, revealed by his sleeveless black shirt, trailing down the lightly freckled skin of his bicep. You remember the tilt of his head as he studied you up and down, the slight pinch of his brow as he crossed his arms, the feeling of his stare on the back of your head as you said hello to Atsumu and Bokuto. You remember the lingering coldness as he closed his studio door, like a chill wind sweeping through the hallway in his wake, something elemental about his presence. 

Shit.

“I take it this is your friend,” Sakusa says, nodding in your direction as he turns back to Shouyo, like you’re not even in the room anymore - this just gets better and better. The idea of putting yourself in this guy’s hands for the next forty five minutes is making your insides twist around on themselves, and you can’t tell if it’s from anxiety or the prospect of being alone in his studio, as Alisa would probably say with a silly wink. “I thought you meant Yachi.”

“No, Yachi’s not - I mean, she wouldn’t really get a tattoo. This is Y/N.” Shouyo explains, although Sakusa’s face remains impassive. “I mean, I know this is last minute -” 

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, it’s not. He’s glowering as though you’ve done him a personal slight by scheduling yourself on the day that Miya got sick; he’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his black cargo pants now as he shifts off of the wall, but you’re sure they’re clenched. 

“Seriously, Hinata,” Sakusa continues, lifting one shoulder in a deeply disgruntled shrug. “I don’t care. Just wish Miya had thought to get his fucking flu shot when I told him to, idiot.” 

“Yeah,” Shouyo tries for a laugh, but he’s never been much of a liar. “Anyway, Y/N’s pretty nervous, so maybe they can just come back another day? I thought -”

“I looked at your design,” Sakusa interrupts, gaze locking with yours again. It’s intense, holding you in place while he speaks. “It’ll only take about thirty minutes, if that. Do you seriously need Hinata to do it? Because if you’re just going to cancel, I could’ve come in when I was supposed to.” 

You press your lips together, trying to fish for a way to get out of this appointment - and trying to figure out if you even want to. Your stomach is still churning with nerves, that’s for sure, but the way Sakusa is watching you, pinning you in place with just his gaze as you scramble for an answer, is something you had only let yourself think about the night after you’d met him, assuming you’d hardly see Shouyo’s distant and rude coworker again. 

“I . . .” 

“Y/N, you can cancel.” Shouyo is also a bad whisperer - subtlety in general was never his strong suit. But he’s giving you a way out, probably having to deal with Sakusa after your hasty retreat, so you only feel a rush of gratitude as he offers you a smile. “It’s no big deal, no matter what this grinch has to say about it.” He hooks a thumb in his coworker’s direction, still giving you that knowing smile. 

Sakusa sputters for a moment, the most human thing you’ve ever seen him do. “I’m not - Hinata, shut up.” 

You can’t help it - you snort. There’s something about indignance on Sakusa’s face that is too funny not to get to you, and you only laugh more when he shoots you a sharp glare. He’s intimidating, sure, but if Shouyo can get under his skin, then he’s more than fallible.

You take a deep breath, sighing through your nose as you shrug. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to have wasted anyone’s time.”

Your gaze tilts to Sakusa, whose frown has finally smoothed into something resembling cordiality. “Is now okay to start? I wanna get this over with.” 

Black Jackal is an odd maze of little hallways and dead ends, and you shuffle just behind Sakusa, trailing after him like a kid scared of getting lost in a mall. 

“You know,” he says over his shoulder once you reach the back of the shop. “Tattoos are usually optional.” 

“Yeah? And?”

“Well, you keep talking about this one like you don’t have a choice in the matter.” 

The door of his studio is plain, save for a small sign that reads his name - Sakusa Kiyoomi, you read - and a little frowny face etched into the wood. 

“Is that the kind of artistry I should be expecting?” You ask, reaching past him to tap on the carving, and Sakusa rolls his eyes. 

“Fuckin’ Miya,” he mutters, and you nod in understanding. 

“Ruffians,” you say, nodding sagely. “They’ll graffiti anything nowadays, nothing is safe.” 

You think you see the ghost of a smile on his mouth as Sakusa lets you inside, following and closing the door behind both of you. 

The inside isn’t nearly as plain as you’d suspected. The walls, a cool dove gray, are papered over with designs and photos, magazine spreads carefully tacked up alongside rough sketches and inked canvas, everything with its own place in the sprawling inspiration board that seems to be Sakusa’s studio. His supply cart is neat but plentiful, coloured ink shining under soft lights in a rainbow of options, and there’s a half finished takeout coffee and bagel on the small desk in the corner, clearly his effort at breakfast while he set up for the day. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sakusa says from behind you, and you turn on your heel to face him. He’s got his arms crossed - again, oh my god - and even through his dark green pullover, his shoulders look ridiculously touchable. Meant to be grabbed, really, used as an anchor to pull yourself up and -

“Why are you acting like you’re being forced to get this tattoo?” His face scrunches slightly in displeasure. “You didn’t lose a bet or anything like that, right?”

“No!” You feel your face heat up, thinking about the insinuations, and remembering that he’s seen the design. You can’t help but let your gaze lower, dropping to rest on his shiny black docs. “It’s not like that at all. I just . . . I’ve been thinking about doing this for a long time, and Shoyou went through all the trouble to help me design it, but I . . .”

And here it comes, the lamest, most pathetic part of this whole ordeal. You swallow the nerves bundled in the back of your throat, clearing the way for your confession. It comes out quiet and sharp. 

“I’m just really fucking scared of needles, alright? They freak me out, and this is a thousand of them going into me over a long period of time, and - and it’s freaky and fucked up, okay?”

You’re expecting Sakusa’s coldness, a scoff or an eye roll - hell, given his attitude so far, even a request not to waste his time. What you aren’t expecting is the undignified snort he lets out. 

His mouth is pressed tight when your eyes dart back up to his face, like he’s holding in another little laugh, and his brows are raised, a little disbelieving. 

“Don’t laugh at me, god!”

“I’m not.” Sakusa’s frown is morphing slowly into something resembling a smile, which rests in the apples of his cheeks more than his mouth, lifting his face until the gloom that hovered over him is evaporating. “It’s just that that’s so normal, and you’re so embarrassed . . . you really don’t have to be.” He snorts again, and you scowl. “No wonder you’re friends with Hinata, you’re just as fuckin’ dramatic.”

“Shut up,” you snap, but Sakusa’s halfway-smile is warming the chill in the studio too well for you to be annoyed. You find your shoulders relaxing a bit as he moves to his desk, taking a sip of his coffee while he rifles through some papers stacked neatly between binders. You take a seat on the rolling stool he nods to, waiting next to the desk for him to find what he needs; you try not to notice how he looms above you, but it’s difficult when you have a front-row seat to his broad hands shuffling around his papers. 

“A lot of people get scared, especially once they actually get here and see the machine and everything,” he shrugs, handing you a few of the papers. Consent forms and the like, you realize as you scan the top one. Sakusa has a pen held out for you before you can even ask. “It’s not weird. I mean, you’re letting some random asshole stab tiny needles into you, right?”

You can’t help the cringe that passes over your face, and though he doesn’t laugh again, you can see the teasing glimmering in his eyes. “Sorry about . . . that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve been called worse.” He drums his fingertips on the desk, and the nervousness of the gesture warms you even further. The studio is thawing like a fresh spring day after a storm, and you find yourself breathing a bit deeper as you slowly fill out the paperwork. “Meian sometimes warns people ahead of time that I’m a bit blunt.” 

“Blunt?” You echo him without meaning to, distracted by the process of the paperwork and easing ever so slightly under his teasing. 

“Okay, he warns people that I’m a dick,” Sakusa says, and the rueful note in his voice catches your attention and draws you away from the form in your hand. “No filter, or whatever.” 

“Oh, come on,” you say, tapping the pen on your thigh, squinting at him in your own turn of disbelief. “You’ve gotta know how scary you are when you walk around all mean and grouchy like that. You’re, like, seven foot fourteen and dressed like a bouncer at a goth rave, you can’t also be an asshole, you’re intimidating enough as it is!” 

You really need to learn when to keep your mouth shut, you think, because Sakusa’s face drops, brow suddenly knitted tight again as he stares you down, and you’re reminded of how right you are about how intimidating he is when he glares like that. 

“Do I really dress like I’m at a goth rave?”

“. . . what?”

“Do I,” he repeats slowly, “dress like I’m at a goth rave?” 

And then you see it: the smallest twitch of his cheek, and your horror turns to annoyance in two seconds flat. “Maybe you do.”

“Hm. Seems a bit uncalled for.” 

“Seems like you just proved my point exactly, actually,” you shoot back, holding out the paperwork for him to take. “And I didn’t say you were at a goth rave, I said you dress like a bouncer at one. You know, like you’re there to be all serious and break up fights and shit.” 

“You’ve got a lot of experience with goth raves?” Sakusa asks as he files the paperwork away in a drawer and reaches across the desk to get a pump of hand sanitizer. The sterile smell permeates the small space, and you feel your insides twist, hands clutching the seat of the stool tight. 

“No, I just -” you pause, searching for the words while trying not to throw up in Sakusa’s studio. He might be warming up now, but you doubt he’d love that. “I don’t know.” You made me nervous doesn’t feel like a great explanation, not with the next thirty minutes of being in his personal space about to begin.  

He studies you for a long moment before jerking his chin, motioning for you to stand. “First, you’re going to sit there -” he points to the soft, leather chair that takes up so much space in the little studio, “and you’re also going to calm down for a minute, because I will cancel this appointment for you if you get sick in here.”

“Knew it,” you mumble, mostly to yourself, as you pull yourself up onto the table, the material soft and smooth beneath your bare thighs. Your legs swing off of it and you feel so exposed, though you haven’t changed your position much; you press your thighs together anyway, keeping your hands in your lap as though to cover up. 

“Knew what?” Sakusa is rummaging around in his desk drawer again, and you move your gaze to the designs on the far wall. It’s a delicate series of ocean waves and marine life, and the broad expanse of coral reef you’re looking at is a bit better than looking at any of the equipment. 

“Knew you’d hate puke,” you say lightly, trying for nonchalance and managing only to sound like you’re being strangled from the inside out. “You have the vibe.”

“Are there people who like it?” 

“I mean, everyone’s got their own thing -”

“No, stop. No talking about that in here.”

You clamp your mouth shut, and don’t move a muscle until you feel something fuzzy on the back of your hand. When you look down, startled, a palm-sized ferret plush is sitting next to your hand on the table. 

“What the fuck is that?”

Sakusa is glaring when you look back up at him, but there’s no real venom to it, so you only notice how the scowl makes his eyelashes stand out more, soft and shadowed beneath his pinched brow. Well, fuck. 

“I’m not the best at - at being . . .”

“Nice?” You supply helpfully.

“. . . Comforting.” He purses his lips, and you try not to pay too much attention to them. “Bokuto got him for me to use when I started, so that he can make people feel better when I . . . don’t.”

“A ferret?” You ask, prying your fingers from the hem of your skirt to pick the critter up, holding him carefully in your lap. 

“A weasel, actually,” Sakusa says, still scowling. “His name is Itachi.”

“Why does his tag say Omi-Omi, then?” You ask, pinching the fabric between your fingers and squinting at the messy handwriting. 

“Because Atsumu fucking sucks.”

It surprises a laugh out of you, though a bit shaky, and Sakusa’s scowl eases back into that glimmering, knowing look, not quite a smile but on its way there. You press the weasel against your stomach, hoping to relax the knots it’s tied itself into, and look to Sakusa for direction. 

“So, before we do anything - you’re absolutely sure you aren’t gonna throw up?” 

“Promise.” 

“Good,” and you try so hard not to notice how nice that sounds in Sakusa’s low, quiet voice. God, what is wrong with you? At this point you’re sure Alisa will see right through you when she comes to pick you up and finds you this . . . unsettled. You squish Itachi a bit tighter to ground yourself. “Then I’m going to ask you where you want this thing.” He holds up a piece of paper, Shoyou’s design splashed across it. 

You tap your inner bicep, just above your elbow, and this time Sakusa manages a lopsided smile. 

“Did you do your research for the least intense places to get one?” 

Face burning, you give him an embarrassed nod, though you can’t tell if the problem is him catching you out so easily or the appearance of the very first smile you’ve ever seen Sakusa Kiyoomi wear. 

“I like to be prepared,” you add with a huff, and he only seems to fight off another smile while tugging on a pair of black nitrile gloves. 

“I’m sure you do.” And why the fuck does that line make your face even warmer? “Here - is it alright if I touch you?” 

The gloves are smooth and impersonal as he guides your arm out, positioning it at a good clear angle to work on, and the disinfectant he sprays on the spot is cold enough to make you jump. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, and you try to shrug it off without moving your arm too much. Your stomach is starting to feel wobbly again, and it gives a sudden lurch when Sakusa tugs his work trolley closer to him and pins Shoyou’s design to the side of it for reference, his fingertips starting to skim over the spread of inks available. 

“You’re shaking, by the way,” he says, selecting a jet black ink that you can’t tell the difference from the others, rolling the glass between his fingers as he looks up at you from his seat. “You promised you wouldn’t throw up.”

“And I’m keeping my promise,” you grit out, nearly strangling Itachi in your iron grasp. “I’m not gonna throw up.” 

“Even if I believed that - which I don’t know that I do,” you manage a scowl, though it’s aimed at the floor, “- I can’t exactly do my job on someone who’s shaking like a leaf.” 

“I’m not,” you argue.

Sakusa slowly lifts your hand, and you both watch a shiver run through it. His hand is warm even through the glove, his grip soft on your inner wrist. Your face pinches in defeat and Sakusa just lets out a small sigh through his nose.

“Look, I don’t really do these kinds of appointments.” 

“These kinds?” You echo, tilting your head in confusion, before you slowly nod. “Right, you’re part of the back of house escort service, I forgot. Would it be better if I undressed a little? Make you more comfortable?” 

The baby pink flush this gives Sakusa is so stark of a change that it startles you, and you think the joke was worth your own burning embarrassment at making it. He clears his throat, brow furrowed, but you can clearly see the blush that warms his cheeks, and the uncertain twitch of his mouth, like his brain can’t decide whether to smile or frown. 

“If you’re done interrupting me,” he says, “I meant nervous clients. Meian knows not to bother booking them with me, because it’s - well, it hasn’t gone that well in the past.” 

And you already know this. Shouyo has explained his coworker’s early mishaps while starting at Black Jackal, including the delightful incident where someone did puke in Sakusa’s studio and he had to send them off to Bokuto while he cleaned it top to bottom. His reputation is exactly why Shouyo’s news sent you into a panic: his image in your mind was a looming, scowling asshole who barely spoke two words to you at every visit you’d ever paid your best friend at work (which was too many to count, thanks to Shouyo’s insistence on forgetting things at home.) 

“I’ve heard,” is all you say, and Sakusa’s lips purse. He probably knows exactly what you’ve heard. 

“I don’t know how to . . . make people calm down.” He releases your hand and it drops back down to the worn leather; the absence of his touch is cold, and you miss it immediately. “And I’m guessing me just telling you not to freak out hasn’t been helping?” 

“How did you know?” You ask, voice flattened by the weight of your sarcasm. Sakusa manages another of his ghost smiles, but it fades from his eyes as he takes you in again. From the way he’s watching you, you must look as terrible as you feel right now. 

“Look,” you start, steadying yourself with a small, uneven breath. “I want this tattoo, you don’t want to cancel this appointment, so it seems like the best thing is for us to just - just commit to the bit, you know? So just distract me and it’ll be fine.”

“Distract you?” This suggestion seems to strike Sakusa like an electric charge, jolting him into another startling blush, brow furrowed in frustration. “With what?” 

You swallow a nervous laugh, eyeing his panic like a house cat eyes their pretend prey, and say, “You could take your shirt off or something,” because you’ve completely lost your mind and you want to draw that blush out of him as much as you can. It might be the only distraction you need. 

Sakusa’s face goes bubblegum pink, from his forehead to his - remarkably sharp and pretty - jawline, and something about it makes his eyes even more piercing. He just stares at you as you cackle, your nerves making the laughter bubble up in your stomach like a shaken bottle of sparkling wine. 

“I’m kidding, I swear,” you laugh, face warm and insides fizzing with a wild cocktail of anxiety and helpless endearment. “You can just, you know, talk at me or something. That’s usually how I get through shots and stuff.”

“Oh? This is a recurring issue?” Sakusa is still a little pink as he reaches for his supplies, but reaches out a gloved hand and gently turns your head to face the opposite wall when you look over. “Don’t look, idiot, just stare at the art or something.” 

“Okay,” you nod, a bit breathless even when he finally releases your jaw. You train your gaze on the wave designs you noticed earlier, the detailed strokes a good visual distraction. “Yeah, I don’t like needles, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sakusa echoes, voice flat. You’re trying to picture his expression, and when you chance a glance you see you nailed it: the scowl and single quirked eyebrow combo he’s used three different times on you today. 

“Yeah, obviously. I know it’s not uncommon, but it’s still, like, embarrassing, you know?” Your fingers twist into Itachi the Weasel’s soft fur. “It’s like a little kid phobia.” 

Sakusa just hums, barely audible, as he wipes a cold towelette across your inner arm, and you suppress a shiver. 

“It’s not that embarrassing,” he says finally, though his words are a bit distant, out of focus, as he concentrates on whatever he’s rifling around with on his cart of supplies. They clink gently as he works, the only sound in the room aside from his quiet murmurs. “You’re doing pretty well. I appreciate that you still haven’t puked.” 

“And I’m not going to,” you insist, pulling a quiet laugh from him. 

“I would hope not.” His gloved hands are back on your arm, repositioning you slightly and then tracing something cool and soft along the skin. When you look down, he’s outlining the design; his movements are so delicate it’s as if he’s pushed all the concentration in his body to his hand. “Not when I’m being so nice, anyway. Now,” he reaches up with his free hand, tilts your chin up and guides your gaze back to the wall of art, “stop looking.” 

You laugh, your stomach fluttering. “But what if you do it bad? I need to see the tracing!” 

When Sakusa’s hand stills for a long moment and he goes quiet, you risk a look back down and see him glaring up at you, though his mouth is twisting away from a smile. 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” he says quietly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you, coaxing you to lean forward and meet him, “but I’m really fucking good at what I do.” 

And you don’t mean to say it, you really don’t, but the muttered, “Oh, I bet you are,” just slips out. Sakusa really walked into it, if you think about it. 

And he responds with another deep pink blush, giving a slight cough as he leans back, eyes now glued to your arm as he reaches to continue the design. He nudges your chin up again with his knuckles before he gets back to work. 

The studio is quiet after that, the pair of you letting the tension brew as Sakusa finishes the small tracing and starts sifting through his supplies again. 

“Okay,” he breaks the silence, and there’s a note of concern that wasn’t in his voice before. “I’m going to get started now, but I think you should take a second to breathe. If you start hyperventilating,” he adds sternly, “I will not do this tattoo.”

“I won’t hyperventilate,” you assure him, sounding much more confident than your shaky lungs feel. 

“You’ll be fine,” Sakusa concludes, and he seems to realize how much of a non-comfort this is, because he knocks his elbow against Itachi, where he’s pressed to your stomach. “Remember to squeeze the living shit out of him, alright? He won’t mind - I think.” 

It’s only when that gets a smile out of you that Sakusa continues, and your head turns instinctively when he lifts something from the cart. 

“Eyes on the wall,” he says without even looking up at you, fiddling with the tattoo gun in his hands. You obey, eyes shooting back to the wave designs, trying to trace the patterns instead of thinking about any impending stabbing. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime,” and it comes out as more exhale than speech, but you are managing to  get your breathing under control. 

“I’m going to turn it on now, but -”

The moment the mechanism buzzes to life, you flinch so hard that you almost drop Itachi, and Sakusa gives a little sigh through his nose.

“- I won’t use it yet, because I figured you’d do that.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mutter, struggling to put up a teasing glare so he knows you’re joking. Sakusa’s dark eyes are narrowed in thought when you look over at him, averting your eyes from the tattoo gun in his hands. 

“Are you done shaking now?” His fingertips graze your inner wrist, glancing down to study your arm like he’s looking for more tremors. “Because I genuinely can’t do this if you’re moving around, you know.” 

“I know,” you say, a bit breathless at the contact as Sakusa’s hand travels up to rest on the crook of your elbow, steadying your arm. He’s still not looking at you, but you think he can probably feel your eyes on him. “. . . It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“The design is small, so it won’t take too long.” He presses on the skin of your inner bicep, shoulders hunching as he moves to get started. “Just say something if you need to take a break.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “And you say you’re bad with nervous clients.”

A beat of silence, broken by Sakusa clearing his throat. “Just repeating the stuff Bokuto always says.”

You give a sharp gasp when the needle finally touches your skin, the sting sudden and swift, and Sakusa doesn’t look up from where he’s carefully inking your skin when he says, “Yeah, it’s not pleasant.” 

“I mean, I figured, but what the hell!” You hiss, face scrunching in displeasure. You suppress a shudder that tries to run through your body as he lifts the needle and then returns it to your skin. 

“Eyes on the wall, Y/N,” he says, and your gaze moves before you realize you’re following his direction. When had you looked back down at him? “You don’t wanna watch me stab you.”

“I said I was sorry about that,” you mutter, and Sakusa just exhales the ghost of a laugh as he continues. 

It’s not unbearable, the pain small but constant, and you focus on the feeling of Sakusa’s hands on you to distract yourself - whether this is really a good plan has yet to be decided. At least it steadies you, his grip sure as he works, and you wonder for a split second how this would be going with someone like Shouyo. You’ve seen your best friend give tattoos before, but the feeling of his distractible, fluttering hands on your arm seems like miles away from the solid reassurance in Sakusa’s hands. There’s something about his concentration, the small pinch returning to his brow whenever you flicker your gaze to him, and the warmth of his broad hands that has your stomach fluttering while your pounding heart eases slightly. 

Maybe this mishap wasn’t the worst possible outcome. 

“Nearly halfway,” Sakusa murmurs, and you catch it in surprise just over the buzz of the machine. 

“Already?” You’re so focused on the feeling of Sakusa holding you that you didn’t even notice ten minutes flick by. 

“Yeah, I told you, a design like this won’t take long.” His hand slides down your arm a bit, holding your inner forearm in place, and his fingers curl around you almost reflexively. You resist the urge to look down as hard as you can, and find yourself outright glaring at the ocean scenes on the opposite wall. “You’re doing really well.” 

And now you’re glaring and flushing, the praise going straight to your hammering heart while you fight the warmth in your face and the twist and turn of your insides as you study his work. The brushstrokes of that middle scene, a huge tidal wave in a myriad of blues and grays and teals, are so delicate that it’s hard for you to pick them apart from across the tiny studio, and you think you want to see Sakusa’s hands do something that delicate. It’s only fair, if you can’t look at him as he so carefully and gently marks your arm when you want to chance a glance so badly. 

“Nearly there,” he says, unreadable as he lifts the needle from your skin, adjusting your arm’s position slightly. “Need a moment?” 

“I -“ You’re not sure if the break is really what you want: your plan was to just get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible, and now your torment is drawing to an end. But your brain is going hazy with Sakusa’s hands on you, and you want to ease into that feeling for a little longer. “. . . Sure, just for a second.” 

“How about ten?” You hear him laugh, the sound low and warm. “And you know you can look wherever you want now, right?” 

Your gaze darts down to meet his, and you catch the tail end of his smile before it sinks below the surface again, just the remnants of it left glimmering in his eyes. 

“You wanna look, or wait until I’m finished?” 

And Sakusa huffs out a laugh because he sees that you’re already sneaking a peek at your half-finished tattoo, the skin around it irritated but the inked lines and curls so entrancing that you want to touch them. Sakusa holds your hand back, placing it over Itachi where you had sat him down next to you on the table. 

“You like it?” The permanent intensity of his gaze makes the question feel like you’re being interrogated, but you just smile.

“Yeah.” You glance back at the design, studying the parts of it that still need to be filled in. “How much longer, do you think?”

“If we keep going right now, I can probably get you out of here by three,” and you swallow your disappointment. Twenty minutes did not give you a lot of time to crack open more of Sakusa’s shell.

“Alright.”

He gets back to work and the studio falls quiet, save for the steady buzz of the gun and the creak of the table each time you shift your legs around. Sakusa’s silence is so complete that you find your gaze wandering down to him, despite your promises to keep your eyes away from the procedure at hand, and you study the crinkle in his forehead as he focuses, the curl that strays between his eyes. He pauses to brush that curl back into place, and the movement is hypnotizing; you can’t stop watching how smooth his motions are, every one deliberate and careful. When he does so his eyes slide over to meet yours, and you sink so deep into his gaze that you can’t even try and pretend like you weren’t staring. 

“Almost done,” he says; his thumb traces the edges of the design, and the smallest sting is left behind on the irritated skin, a mark of his touch. You just nod, your brain moving honey-slow as you watch him. 

“You’re doing fine,” he remarks, head cast down as he finishes his work. “Not nervous anymore?”

“No, I am,” you reply, a bit breathless, “but I’m - you’re - it’s not that bad.” The words clatter their way out of you, awkward and uncertain in your mesmerized haze. His hair catches the studio lights and the curls remind you of the brushstrokes in his art, each rivulet of the tidal wave rendered with individual care, smooth and inviting. You clench Itachi a bit tighter, keeping your hand where it is. 

Sakusa breathes something like a laugh and a sigh, lifting the needle from your skin for the last time. “Well, good, because you’re done. Told you it wouldn’t take too long.” 

He putters about his equipment for a moment, putting things back in their places, and you study his movements as your hand frees Itachi (much to his relief, you’re sure) and reaches for the stinging patch of skin on your inner arm. 

“Don’t touch it,” Sakusa warns, barely glancing at you from where he’s slathering on another round of hand sanitizer. “Unless you want it to get infected.” 

“No, I’m okay, actually.” Your hand drops into your lap as you wait for him to return, legs swinging with your nerves as he finally meets your eyes. 

“You didn’t puke.” Sakusa is giving you that barely-there smile again, and you swear you see the beginnings of a dimple on his right cheek. The urge to run your hands through his curls only grows with this observation, which you really wish it wouldn’t, because talking to him is only getting harder. 

“I didn’t.” 

“Thank you for that,” he says, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves and motioning for your arm. “Hold your arm out straight for me.” 

Warmth creeps up your throat as you do as asked, and Sakusa’s hands are warmer this time when he uses a cotton round to spread a thick layer of ointment onto the design. It shimmers in the light, and you turn your arm slightly to examine his work. 

“I’d ask if it looks okay, but it’s a little late for that.”

“Maybe you should’ve let me look, then,” you try to glare up at him as he crowds into your space a bit, gently laying plastic wrap over the area. You can feel the warmth of him this close, and catch a note of his clean, summery scent, like one of those sweet-scented dryer sheets. “So I could tell you before it’s too late.”

“You would’ve freaked out. Besides, it definitely looks okay. I told you, I’m pretty good at this.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you manage to roll your eyes, despite the flips your stomach is doing even as he backs away. He retreats to his desk to shuffle through the contents of a cramped drawer, and you watch the broad line of his shoulders stoop as he bends over the drawer. You feel the need to get ahold of yourself, but it’s a distant concern when your head is this floaty. 

“Alright,” and when Sakusa turns back around, folded papers in hand and firm expression fixed on you, you let that concern fizz out entirely, “you’re finished. These are aftercare instructions.” He passes you the papers and waits for you to carefully tuck them into your purse. “Follow them - don’t skip steps or rush the healing process. Understand?” 

“Got it,” you salute, warmth fluttering through you at his low tone. “I can follow instructions.” 

Sakusa just nods, mouth flattened as you gently slide off the leather seat. “I’m sure you can, so I expect you to. I want to see that healed properly the next time you come to see Hinata.” 

“So you’ll actually come say hi, instead of hiding back here?” 

He quirks a brow and you squirm under his questioning gaze, embarrassment flooding you. Was that too obvious? 

“. . . We’ll see. Depends on if you still want to see me after this.” Usually people don’t. The implication hangs between you both, and you yank it aside like you’re letting in fresh air. 

“Well, maybe I do. Is that a problem? Gonna ruin your street cred?” 

“I think you’re going to obliterate it, honestly.” 

“You don’t sound opposed.” And that’s as much a question as it is a jibe; you stand prone in his little studio, waiting for Sakusa to stack up his many walls once more, back where they stood before you followed him into his sanctuary. 

But he just stares back at you, the corner of his lips twitching as his gaze moves from your face to your new tattoo and back again. “Maybe I’m not.” 

A knock at the door startles you out of the fuzzy, warm headspace you’ve sunk so deep into, and both of your heads whip to look at Shouyo, whose fluff of ginger hair is peering around the open door as he looks back at you both. 

“Are you done already? My client’s just taking a break now, and I wanted to come check in . . .” 

Taking a step away from Sakusa - when had you drifted so close to him? - you flash Shouyo a thumbs up and a wane smile. “Totally done! Completely finished!”

“Awesome!” 

It’s quiet as you all head back to the front desk so you can pay, Shouyo seemingly oblivious to the tension brewing between every word you direct at him instead of Sakusa. You leave Black Jackal with a new tattoo and the feeling of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes on your back as you step out the door, finding Alisa already waiting for you, leaning against the passenger door of her parked car. 

“Hey! Lemme see, I bet it’s so cute . . . what’s wrong with you?” She squints at you, hands still on your arm to see the tattoo, and you shrug. 

“Nothing, I’m all good.” 

“So you didn’t freak out?” Alisa asks, pulling you along to the car. “No hyperventilating?”

“No,” you shake your head, sliding into the passenger seat. “I . . . I might go back, get another one. I’m not sure yet.”

“Wow.” Alisa gives you a once-over when she gets into the driver’s seat, turning on the ignition but not taking her eyes off of you. You don’t look over to see if she’s suspicious - you already know her too well for that. “It must’ve gone really well.” 

“Yeah.” You nod slowly, fingers twisting in your lap. “It did.” 

“So Hinata’s actually good at his job?”

“I, um - actually -” You fumble with your words, the last hour crashing through your brain at hyperspeed; there’s no turn of phrase that feels appropriate, not with the bright, too-hot feeling bubbling up inside of you, coaxing a wavering little smile out of you. “Shouyo couldn’t, um, actually he didn’t do it.” 

“Oh?” Alisa pauses before pulling onto the road, her acrylics tapping thoughtfully on the steering wheel before she lets out an obnoxious, dramatic gasp. “Oh! Oh my god, wait, who?” 

“Shut up,” you say instead of answering, burying your warm face in your hands. 

“No way,” she argues, and you feel the car start moving, thank god. Soon you can be embarrassed in peace. “No way, you - it wasn’t Miya, was it? Please tell me it wasn’t.”

“No! No, it wasn’t - it actually was Miya’s fault that Shouyo couldn’t do it, so - I mean, um - it was . . . you know Sakusa?” His name trips off of your tongue, pretty and hushed, and the phantom feel of his hands on your skin makes you shiver.

When you finally look up at Alisa, she’s staring at you in mingled disbelief and delight. “No fucking way.”

“I’ll literally hop out of this moving car, right fucking now.” 

“I didn’t say anything! I just - no way. No fucking way.” 

“Yeah.” You murmur, head tipped back against the headrest, trying not to picture that almost-smile glimmering in his sharp gaze. “No way.” 

[shhh-secret-time]

Part 2 is 21 pages. Part 1 was 16 pages. Combine that together and that's a 37 page request I pumped out in a day.

oops.

Warning: NSFW, Strong-Language, Dirty Talk, Slight Praise Kink, a bit of jealous behavior, mention of character death, bug violence(?), bit of PTSD

Pairing: Gunslinger!Kyle x Fem!Reader

When you finally woke up, the first thing that came to your mind was just how dry your mouth felt. You swallow roughly and it burns the back of your throat in a different way the alcohol of last night did. It felt like you were trying to swallow steel wool, forcing what little saliva pooled in your mouth down your throat.

The second thing was the fact the horse had gone back to a slow trot. No longer could you hear hooves on cobblestone. The wind was no longer whipping around your head and through your hair. The smell of the city long gone, now replaced with a deep earthy scent.

The third was the feeling of Kyle's arms still wrapped around you, one pulls away from your side for a moment. You feel him move around, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He presses his fingers into his heavy eyelids before returning them to the reigns.

Finally, all three things fall into place as you piece it all together. Kyle feels the way your body bolts up away from his chest and brings his horse to a stop. He pulls her off to the crummy dirt road and off to the side.

"Oh! I apologize! I didn't mean to fall asleep like that! I can't believe I just passed out!" Panic sets into your voice and guilt eats at you when you realize he probably rode all through the night.

"It's fine ma'am. I figured you could use the rest. Please don't take any offense or nothin' but you look like you ain't seen much shut eye." Kyle smiles at you holding his hand up to try and settle you.

"I-.... you’d be right. Still, that's no excuse. You're still a stranger, the fact that I just fell asleep like that..."

"A stranger you shot a man for. A stranger you saved from gettin' strangled to death. I never did get to thank you for that." He pauses for a moment as he gets down from the horse. Kyle takes the reigns with him, choosing to walk along aside the horse now. "I've only had a few people in my time willin' to do somethin' like that for me and I at least know their names."

It hits you like a brick. In less than twenty-four hours you got into your first ever bar fight, shot a shotgun, slugged a man with said shotgun, all but bribed the sheriff, ran off with a man who didn't even know your name, and then fell asleep on said man who didn't even know your name. You catch yourself staring down at the handsome gunslinger, breaking yourself out of the daze trance like stare. It was hard not to admire him; looks aside he's been nothing but a delight to you. It would have been all too easy for him to just dump you off somewhere, leaving you and your problems behind.

Instead, here he was. Walking alongside you and his horse, without even so much as asking you about your business. Why you wanted to go out West, or why you needed to hire him in the first place. You hadn't even told him how much you were paying him for all of this.

"Ma'am?" Oh, right, your name.

"I'm being all types of rude, aren't I? I'm sorry..."

"Ain't nothin' to apologize for. I figured you got a reason for keepin' secrets. If you don't wanna tell me, I ain't gonna make ya." He shrugs.

 It takes you a minute to gather your thoughts, but when you do you finally gain the courage to ask him. "Why are you being so accepting about all of this? Shouldn't you be surprised or at the very least upset?"

"The way I see it, you saved my skin back there twice. Once with Knucklehead and the other with the Sheriff." He says sheriff with a sneer, "I owe you. Besides the way you begged the sheriff to let us go, I could tell you were in some kind of trouble. Wouldn't be right of me to turn my back on someone who needed help."

"So, what, you're just doing this out of obligation and the kindness of your heart?"

That makes him laugh again, but he quickly shakes his head. "Guess you could put it like that. Walk the righteous path and clear all debts sort of ordeal. But I don't think it goes that deep. Like I told the bartender last night, I'm just a simple fella tryin' to make a livin'."

You sit on his horse in awe, if this was an act he was putting on it was a damn fine one. You run your fingers through the horse’s mane, brushing out the sand and dirt on the poor creature who must be so tired. She huffs a little, but she doesn't move her head, so you continue.

After a few moments of walking and silence, you tell him your name. Your full name.

Every time you speak, he gives you his full attention, looking up at you with that gentle smile. You expect his eyes to widen like everyone else's when you drop your last name, your family was famous after all. Instead, he nods along and practices the sound of your name on his tongue.

He says it again and hearing it whispered in that voice of his sounds divine. Once he likes the way it feels and sits, he turns back to the road and keeps walking.

"Pretty name...like the way it sounds. I hate the fact that I ain't gonna get to use it much." His lips purse, talking like he's just mumbling to himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it wouldn't be real wise to be usin' your name if you're tryin' to go into hidin'. Even if we are on the road alone, I don't wanna take any chances. If I get in the habit of usin' your name, I ain't gonna wanna stop." He brings the rim of his hat down over his eyes trying to hide the blush on his face. Even though he says it with such confidence it's hard to look you in the eye.

He's not alone, his words have a greater effect on you than he knows. You pull the cloak still wrapped around your body closer to your form, burying your face in the material. Maybe you could just rub your flushed face away or at the very least it would buy you time to slow your heartbeat down.

Kyle was right about one thing. Your last name has brought you nothing but trouble your whole life. So, for now you'd get rid of it, toss it to the side like the various newspapers you saw littering the city streets. Let it drift away and be carried by the Eastern winds. It was time to leave the city girl you were raised to be behind; you were going out West now.

"The only thing I can't seem to wrap my head around." Kyle breaks the silence between you two again. "Is how someone like you learned to shoot like that."

"How do you mean? It doesn't take much to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger, can't really miss with a shotgun when you're that close."

"That's what I'm askin'. It don't take much to pull a trigger, but you knew how to hold it. Held her like you knew her."

"How'd a lawyers boy go from that to being a bounty hunter?" You ask, bringing up the little fact that Sheriff Cartman spat at him last night.

His lips press together in a thin line and for a moment you feel like you might have crossed a line. Said something you shouldn't have, but when his shoulders slump forward you can feel something different. It's not anger in his eyes, maybe regret? Hurt that rests behind those tired green eyes.

"I don't know why I'm tellin' you this. But we're gonna be together for a while, might as well make conversation I suppose." Again, he talks like he's not really talking to you. His inner thoughts spilling from his mouth like brandy in a bottle. "It was bandits."

Your blood runs cold, that could mean anything but, in this context, you had a feeling it wasn't a good one. Your fingers brush down the coat of the horse as he talks, finding comfort in the animal. You can feel the warm and gentle breathing coming from her. If you squint, you could almost swear they had lined up their breathes. She would take in an inhale, and he would let out a puff of air.

"Pa was a lawyer, Ma was a stay-at-home mama. He made enough for all of us and another. I have a baby brother they adopted when I was younger." He goes to tell his story with a little pause in between.

"You said have. He still around?" That question hurts to ask, but curiosity was gnawing at you. You wanted to know more about this gunslinger, that included the bad too.

"Yeah. I think it was when I was fifteen? Pa was puttin' me through school, was studyin' to be like him. I was gonna put away bad people just like him." He takes his hat off with his free hand, he stares down at the inside of the hat. You catch a glimpse of stiches and patchy line work. Past the scuff marks and tears on the old thing it looks like someone tried to patch it back together again. Enough to where it would hold up. But past that there was a little black and white picture tucked in the makeshift pocket of one of the patches.

A skinny man, honestly looked like a strong gust of wind could blow him away, standing next to the most gorgeous looking woman you've ever seen. Her hair was put up in a tight bun, curves on every ounce of her that made her look like something out of those fancy paintings. The dress she wore clung to her body and on her lap was a little boy. Black hair that didn't match the shade of grey on either of the adults behind him. He had a big toothy grin on his face as he held an outstretched hand for the other boy beside him.

It was Kyle. Much younger than he is now, hopeful looking face with his hair cut short and kept clean. The curls sat neatly on the top of his head, and he dressed like some of the men your father did business with. Fine button up grey shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks. A grey tie came down from his collar that disappeared behind a black vest. Still had that soft smile on his face as he looked at the camera.

He quickly puts the hat back on feeling your eyes peering down behind him. Again, you felt like you got a peek into something you shouldn't have seen. If he was bothered you couldn't tell, he just kept talking.

"Pa was always real good at that, puttin' bad people away. Could do it the civilized way, take him down and give 'em a trial. Rely on the system to put 'em behind bars and supposably reform 'em." He scoffs at that statement, "lotta good all that did. Pa put away the wrong man. Some no name bandit leader thinkin' he could take the short way through life and rob some rich folk."

Kyle stops, completely. Stops the horse, stops talking and just stares down at the ground below. You watch a little red scorpion scurry after its dinner. Stinger pulled back and at the ready.

"Men like that got one thing goin' for 'em. They travel in numbers. Numbers that don't like when you mess with their own. Pa wasn't even the man that brought that bandit leader in, but he was the reason why he'd never walk under the sun again. They were gonna keep that no named man locked away in the deepest parts of their holdin' cells. His men didn't like that idea much."

The scorpion chases the target down until they come to a ledge. Something that would be so easy for you to just step over, something that would barely be an obstacle in your way. But for the tiny bug that was fleeing for its life, it was the end of the road. It wasn't dexterous enough to try and make it over the little ledge, the path to freedom taunting it as it falls on its back.

"Don't really know what they were thinkin' or how they came to the conclusion. But they decided in the dead of night they'd...burn down the town? Came in on horseback makin' all types of racket. I remember Ma pushing my brother in my hands an' tellin' me to run out to where we kept the stagecoach. Somethin'-" He chokes and clears his throat to collect himself. "Somethin' about the horses already hitched and ready. To just jump on and wait for her and Pa."

The scorpion closes in on the bug. His stinger blocking the view of the sun, casting the shadow of death over the poor thing.

"I protested, wanted to stay and help her pack bags. Carry somethin' other than my cryin' brother." His hands clutch the sarape around his body, right where his heart would be. "She told me not to argue with her and to get my ass outside. Never heard her curse before..."

The bug kicks its little legs, trying to roll off its back. It squirms, fights, and rocks trying to do anything. Anything but die.

"I did what she told me. Go where she told me. You don't question your mama when she tells you to do somethin' ya know?" He licks his lips, and you wonder if they're as dry as yours are right now. "I put my brother and I in the carriage and I wait for 'em. Then...the house just...erupts. One of those sons of bitches threw somethin' against the side of the house and it catches a blaze."

Kyle closes his eyes, a bead of sweat drips down his face. Like he can still feel the roaring flames against his face. The poor man is standing there reliving it all.

The scorpion finally brings its stinger down. Strikes the pathetic creature in the stomach one good time. The venom does its job, you're sure if the little thing could scream out it would. Instead, it just goes slack, goes limp and dies.

"I... I didn't know what to do. I had just learned to drive the damn thing, so I grabbed the reigns and snapped it. If it wasn't for my brother, I probably would've run into that blazing hell. Probably be a dead man too."

"Probably." Your voice finally pipes up. Kyle looks up at you and you're not giving him the look of pity others have when he tells this tale. Your face is softened sure but there's nothing in those eyes that tell him you're looking down at him.

"That's the last time I saw 'em. Last time I said good night...I only wished I woulda got to say I love you."

The scorpion closes in on its meal. Now that it's not trying to run it figures it can eat in peace. Pinchers at the ready to pick the corpse up.

"I didn't. Spent a lotta time wishin', and a lotta time gettin' good with a gun. Pa taught me there were other ways to take a man down, not everythin' had to be solved with violence. We could do it humane like instead of usin' a gun. Just a shame I turned out to be a damn good shot."

Kyle starts walking again, and as he does, he walks over the scorpion. Crushing the creature under his heel without a second thought. You watch as when he moves his heel the thing lays there with the sand already started to claim it's body. You wonder if it got to at least get a bite of what it worked so hard for.

"So that's how you started bounty hunting?"

"Yep. Started with the assholes that took my parents from me and my brother. Guess they're the only people I never brought in alive."

"Really?!" That was a part of the man you didn't learn from rumors.

"I'm flattered you seem to think I had the ability to bring in fifteen men all by my lonesome, but no. I gave 'em the same treatment they gave my parents." Most men would be proud of that, say it with their chests out. Kyle doesn't, he keeps his eyes on the road and his head down.

"You burned them?"

"Set their whole lil' hideout on fire. Got a bottle of whiskey, drank some of it for courage and then tucked a cloth in the rest of it. Lit the sucker on fire and tossed it."

You try not to imagine the sounds that fifteen men on fire would make, or the fact that not even one of them got away. Kyle was a lucky man that there weren't a few to make it out of that fire that night. Who knows what would have happened if he was caught or worse, they lived to enact revenge like Kyle had.

"Took my brother to an old friend’s ranch and we stayed there for a while. You ever hear of the Marsh family?"

"Sure. They're famous ranchers, good at breakin' in horses and growin' crops."

"Their son is my best friend. I call that man my brother. Call him that until I take my final breath." A smile finally comes back to his face, talking about someone that means so much to him seems to put him at ease.

"Why'd ya leave?" You ask, letting a smile come across your face at the sight of his.

"Didn't feel right just sittin' around. Plus, if word got out that I was stayin' in one place I figured it'd just bring trouble. My brother didn't do nothin' so I asked if I could leave him there. Been out on the road ever since, I send him letters from time to time but it ain't easy gettin' 'em out to me so I just assume he's alright."

"You should visit your brother...I'm sure he misses you." You tell him. It almost breaks your heart the way his smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"With the reputation I built up, I'd only be bringin' danger to his doorstep. I couldn't do that to him or Stan." That must be his friend he mentioned, you note. "I take what I earn from bounty hunting and send it their way. Just because I chose to throw away the life our Pa had set out for me, doesn't mean he's gotta. Every nickel and dime I get goes to keepin' me goin' and buildin' a better life for him."

Your heart swells, swells with admiration and pain. It hurts to see a man who so clearly loves his family have to keep himself away from what little he has left of it. Who has to distance himself from the two people he'd call brother. Neither really blood related to him but they might as well be. You can't help but admire him, how he tries to carry all that responsibility on his back. You thought the tired look in his eye was just from staying up all night and riding into the morning.

"Kyle, that's incredibly brave of you. Putting yourself out there for your brother, if it means anything...I don't think you're throwing your life away." You find that courage you somehow mustered up last night and put your hand over his, the one that still has the reigns. He looks up at you, watching as the sun sits behind your head like a halo. You bend down a bit and get closer to him, whispering as if someone was listening in. "I think what you're doing is the most noble thing I've ever heard. You're the kind of man they talk about in story books...if I didn't believe in you before I do now. Thank you."

"For....for what?" He asks and swallows, his adams apple bobs. For the first time in a long time, he can't seem to find his voice, it drops to a low whisper.

But could anyone blame him? The way you look at him so gently, every little blink of your eyelashes has him sinking deeper and deeper into the color of your eyes. That golden sun behind you makes you look like an angel, and maybe you are one. As far as Kyle is concerned only an angel could look at him like that. Find a way to admire him and sing his praise after being told he set fifteen men to hell in a blaze of hate.

"For being you. I used to not think there were good men out there, but you're changing that." You say it like it's the simplest thing on earth. Like he should have just known the answer to that.

But when you say it, it's like being punched in the chest. You have your hands so tightly wrapped around his heart he's sure if you say anything else he's going to keel over. He lets himself have this moment, lets a breath escape his chest and holds onto each little word you said.

"Ma'am, you ain't got a clue as to what you're sayin'. You don't know me well enough to be passin' judgement like that."

"Hm. Good thing I'm a real good judge of character. A man as bad as you claim to be would've robbed me blind especially if he knew for a fact, I was carrying enough money on me to buy your friends ranch."

His eyes widen at that, he stares at you as if you just told him the sky was red and the rapture was coming. Kyle's respone catches in his throat, unable to say anything at that. You can't help but laugh at that, the sweet sound coming from your lips makes his knees weak.

You toss him the stained white bag of cash, the once pure white cloth now soiled by the desert sands. Dirt clings to it but that doesn't stop him from catching it and opening it up. True to your word, there was so much cash in here Kyle could probably beat a man to death with it.

"You walked into that damn saloon with this?!" Kyle yelled quickly, closing the bag.

"I risked a lot on trying to find you." You say with a little shrug. "Sold everything I owned, took what I could carry and set out to hire you."

"You're either crazy or desperate. Please, for the love of God don't take offense to this."

You laugh again and shake your head; you couldn't argue with him. He was right. Maybe you were both, but it was either this or get unlucky one day and go missing. You'd take your chances with the handsome man next to you. At least he wasn't a stranger much anymore.

"I just got tired of the life I was living. Heard there was good opportunity out West. Figured I could settle in Texas or...Colorado?"

"Colorado?! Ma'am if this is some elaborate plot to give me a heart attack just to take me out, you're doin' a damn fine job." He clutches the bag into his chest and takes a deep breath. Quickly he stuffs the bag into the saddle bag on his horse. She stirs a little and shakes her head letting him know that her patience is running thin.

"So, you're suggesting Texas?"

"It's better than fuckin' God damn Colorado!" The way Kyle's cursing picks up when he's stressed is kind of adorable.

Laughter echoes down the road all the way out of the state. You finally find yourself off the East coast for the first time in your life. The company you keep makes it all the better! Eventually you stop at the nearest town and purchase your own horse. You have to slow down a little because Kyle has to all but teach you how to mount her and how to keep her from freaking out. He's calm and patient with you the entire time, only laughing at you a few times when you forget to buckle the saddle completely and almost slide right off. He teaches you how to take care of her and you end up spending most nights swapping stories by campfires.

You're somewhere deep in the state of Missouri, where exactly you're not sure that's Kyle's job. The night sky hangs above your heads with the stars staring down at you. Each little twinkle makes you think they're winking down at you. Kyle's told you that a few of the stars have names and stories behind them, you let him ramble on about it for hours before informing him that you already knew all that. The look on his face alone was enough to make you laugh.

You must have laughed again because Kyle's looking up from the worn-out map up at you now. He has a lazy smirk, the corners of his lips hidden behind the scruff on his face that's starting to grow in. His hair just now starting to go back to when you first met him, he's shaved it off a few times since your journey much to your dismay. You complained for days when he first did it only to be met with an eye roll.

That was something you always noted, that whenever you would complement Kyle's appearance, he'd brush you off or find a way to deflect. Telling you that you were the pretty one or that you were just seeing things because you weren't drinking enough water. The heat was getting to you, and you needed to take some time by the shade.

But he really was a handsome man, the rugged look didn't really line up with his personality but damn if it didn't do something to you. Being next to the man for so long, having made the first real connection with another person for the first time in your life. Well, it was getting harder and harder not to see him in a different light.

Especially since every moment leading up to this point, Kyle would do everything in his power to protect you. Putting himself in harm’s way time and time again just to make sure you'd be safe. Bandits thinking the both of you were easy picking, Kyle's reputation didn't reach every corner of the country. And the few times it did, it only encouraged people like Knucklehead to try and take a shot at bringing him down. There were a few times people recognized you. Someone had put out missing wanted posters with your face plastered all over them.

Of course, when danger came rearing its ugly head, Kyle would be there by your side. At first it was a lot of him taking shots for you, you patching him up. Using those studies your parents provided, removing bullets, and cleaning the wound left behind wasn't exactly what you had studied but eventually you got the hang of it. Each time you'd scold him to be more careful, he'd argue that catching bullets with his body wasn't something he liked doing. And each time just as you'd finish bandaging him back up, he'd give you a look that had your heart fluttering. His eyelids would lower down, and his lips would part in just a way that made them look so kissable. But every time you'd think you got the courage to just do it, he'd pull away and wish you a good night. Disappearing in his tent as if he wasn't just staring at you thinking the same thing.

Little did you know he was thinking the same thing. Countless nights he'd stay awake at night, tossing and turning in his bedroll trying to get the image of you so close out of his head. It had been a long time since Kyle felt this close with anyone, much less got to share the road with another person. Those little moments where you'd brush your fingers over his exposed skin or when you'd wake up nice and early to make sure he got something in his stomach before riding off. It made it harder and harder to want to not make you, his woman. To not take you up in his arms and take you into his tent for the night.

But that's not why you hired him. Once he got you to Colorado, he'd drop you off, probably stick around long enough to make sure you were settled, and then be on his way. Leaving you in that state all by yourself and he'd return to wherever the road took him. That thought filled him with an indescribable loneliness, one he tried to keep out of his head. He tried to focus on how good he felt just being near you, savoring the moments he got with you now.

Like how pretty you looked when you sat next to the fire, back against a log that he dragged over to make it a little more comfortable. A book resting in your lap and a page between your fingers, some novel you both picked up and swapped back and forth. How every time you looked over at him thinking you could steal a few glances without him noticing, only to be caught in the act. Ever since he met you back at the bar you would avert your eyes from him and try to find something else to look at or pretend that you were looking past him. He found it so cute.

"Somethin' funny darlin'?" You don't know when he started calling you that, can't recall but every single time it makes your heart leap.

"Just thinking about that time, you were telling me about the stars. How I'm gonna miss this..."  You say with a little shrug and smile, reaching down next to you to grab the bottle of wine.

"You'll still be able to see 'em in Colorado. In fact, I hear they're mighty pretty over the desert." He says watching you take a drink from the bottle.

"It's not the same." You wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your blouse, the red liquid staining the shirt. "It's not the same if you don't have someone to share it with."

It's Kyle's turn to blush a little, he gives you a little hum and a nod like he understands. There's a moment where he thinks his heart stops, but it thumps against his chest, and he finds it in him to speak up. "You always know just what to say to make a man flustered huh?"

"Since when have I talked to other men like this?" You ask scooting a little closer to him, that night wind pushing you a little closer to his warmth.

"I don't quite recall..." He mumbles meeting you halfway.

Kyle helps close the gap between the both of you until your thighs are touching. The material of his jeans brush against your legs, exposed because of the skirt clips holding your skirt to where they just cover your thighs.

"Think it would work on another man?" Your voice drops to a whisper.

His brows furrow at that and his face twists into a scowl. You watch the way his eyes narrow and darken a little. He huffs and you can smell the scent of coffee on his breath. Kyle doesn't say anything, instead he goes for the wine bottle in your hand. The man takes a swig of it, trying to hide the jealous feeling that's starting to creep up on him.

"Reckon it would... if you had the backbone to be talkin' to other men."

"What's that supposed to mean?" It's your turn to furrow your brows at him, they knit together.

"Just sayin' you ain't exactly a smooth talker with everyone you come across. I seem to remember a certain run in with that snake oil salesman that was tryin' to get you to agree to go on a lil' date with him." He taps the bottle against his lips a few times before taking another drink.

You take the bottle from him, crawling over his lap to reach the darn thing. You press your palm into his thigh and suddenly he's very aware of just how close you are to him. Kyle isn't sure if you're doing on purpose but either way it makes his dick twitch against the fabric of his pants.

He doesn't give you time to protest as he moves the bottle out of reach, holding it back just as you brush your fingertips against the cool glass. "No, I think I remember you fumblin' over your words and I had to come over and tell the fella you weren't interested."

Damn him. Damn that handsome red head for calling you out and looking so cocky while doing it. His smirk returns as he cocks his head down at you, the way his lips glisten against the campfire almost has you distracted. Almost.

But you wanted your wine, so you take another lunge for it. Pressing your body into him to try and climb over and snatch it back. His hand comes down to your waist, keeping you in place.

"Ah! No ma'am, I think someone's had enough. All that talk about flirtin' with other men ain't much like you. Think this is messin' with your head." He tuts and shifts you in his lap. He's hoping you don't feel the effect you're having on him.

"You know what I think Broflovski? I think you're jealous!" You challenge crossing your arms under your chest.

"That so? That what you think darlin'?"

"Why else would you be acting like this? You're acting like a damn child! Now give me my bottle, I'm a grown woman I can drink as much as I wanna!"

He laughs at that. Laughs right at your protests and the way you're pouting in his lap. It makes your face burn up, it makes you wanna hit him, makes you wanna kiss him until he shuts up.

"You're real cute when you get fussy you know that?" Kyle lets the compliment slip out of his mouth before he has time to think about it.

He knows better. He knows he shouldn't be flirting with you, shouldn't get attached. But that ship has long since sailed, he's been infatuated with you since the day you told him he was a good man. But fuck if it isn't getting harder and harder, especially with you sitting so pretty on his lap.

"Kyle Broflovski! If you don't start acting right!" You know the blush on your face doesn't help, the scolding falls on deaf ears.

"I ain't the one crawlin' into a man's lap for a bottle of cheap wine." He sets the bottle down beside him off into the dark where it no longer matters. That hand finds home on your waist, rolling his thumbs over the material of your skirt.

You suck in a breath and sit up on your knees, pushing them to rest on either side of him. "You're not just another man...that what you want me to tell you?"

"Can't say I wouldn't like it." Kyle's voice dips low, gravely and makes a shiver zip down your spine.

"If you don't want me flirting with other men..., why are you waiting so long to kiss me?"

"Oh darlin'," He growls and squeezes the back of your thighs, rough hands sliding up your skirt. "I want nothin' more but...you and I both know I can't."

"No, I don't think I do. Enlighten me." You're not letting him get away this time, there would be no running off to his tent to avoid this. You had him wrapped around your little finger, even if your heart felt like it was about to explode.

" 'Cause if I start kissin' you. I'm gonna keep doin' it..." He gets closer, sitting up to his full height just to graze his lips over yours. "Keep kissin' ya 'til I ain't go breath in my lungs left. Then I'll wanna take you in my arms jus' like this." He gives you a little squeeze pressing his chest further against yours. "I wouldn't be able to stop myself from makin' those sweet lil' noises come out of your mouth. Wouldn't wanna stop either."

Your breath hitches and you let out a soft little moan. You card your fingers through his hair, his hat was put away somewhere in his tent, so it left those gorgeous red curls unguarded. He groans and inadvertently bucks his hips up into you, the rough feeling of his jeans grinding up against your underwear.

"Fuck and if you ain't makin' it difficult. Talkin' like that makes me think you planned to get me all worked up. You ain't stupid, just about the smartest woman I've ever met in my life." He continues grinding his hips into you, rolling you over his growing erection. Kyle groans and doesn't even bother trying to stop the sounds coming out of his mouth.

"K-Kyle just kiss me already!" You whimper in his lap.

And he snaps, whatever wall he built up to resist you comes tumbling down. Just the way you say his name has him tossing all logic out the window. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face down towards him, crashing your lips onto his. His teeth almost knock into yours from how desperately he needs this, how much he needs you. It's like being able to stretch your legs after riding for days, or a cool drink of water after being under that blazing sun for too long.

That crackling fire that keeps your little camp sight illuminated doesn't give off nearly the amount of heat Kyle's kiss does. His chapped lips move against yours, somehow despite being on the road for so long they're still so soft. It takes a second for your brain to register that he's finally kissing you, after so long he's finally doing it. Before he can pull back, you press back into the kiss. Hands coming down from his hair to cup his jaw like it'll anchor you from floating away.

He kisses you again and again, each kiss turning more passionate. He goes from a desperate kiss to kissing you like a starved man. His tongue slips out and swipes against your bottom lip, when you don't open your mouth, he growls and pulls you down, so you're now firmly sat in his lap. The action makes you gasp, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, more than excited to explore the inside of your mouth until he finds your tongue. You poke back nervously and chase after the pink muscle. Finally, your tongues twine together, wrapped up in some kind of dance.

He kisses you until your lungs burn, desperate for air. In this silent little battle to see who would break first, it's you. You pull away from him and take in a large gasp. The lack of air and how heated the kiss was makes your head spin. Just as you collect yourself, he's on his feet lifting you up with him. You cling to him and wrap your arms around his neck, even though you know he won't drop you the shock of being moved so quickly like that caught you off guard.

"W-where are we going?"

" 'm takin' you to bed." He walks you over to the tent he's got pitched up, moving to your tent. Kyle bends down and gently lays you down on the bedroll. He sucks in a breath when he sees the way your hair's all laid out and how you've got your thighs pressed together. Lips wet and slightly puffy from the way he kissed you. "Now if you ain't the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Take your blouse off for me."

Kyle looks down at you with darkened eyes, heavy eyes filled with lust. He watches every single little movement you make. They watch as you slip the buttons of your blouse through the little slots holding them together. Watch as you slip the shirt down your arms painfully slow, far too slow for his liking. But ever the gentleman he simply hooks his thumbs in his belt and watches, rewarding you with a low hum.

"That's my girl." His praise all but makes you purr; you like the way he calls you his. "Jus' a lil' more for me. Take that skirt off." His hand slips up your skirt and taps the side of your thigh.

You do it, work the skirt clips off along with the skirt itself until you're left in nothing but your underwear. He tosses them to the side letting them land in your pile of bags. He tugs off his sarape and works his belt, the clinking of his buckle rings out. The only other sound besides your heavy breathing is the bubbling brook next to your camp sight. Occasionally, you can hear the horses stir, but right now all you can focus on is the way Kyle strips down to nothing.

Kyle lays his gun down carefully on top of his clothes before joining you under the furs used to keep you warm. His cock nudges against your thigh, twitching against how soft it feels. You let out a shaky sigh and peer down at it, the angry red tip brushes against your skin.

"I-is that going to fit?" You ask him suddenly a bit worried, but it melts away when he takes your jaw and kisses you again.

"Darlin' we can stop at any moment. But if you'll have me, I'll make you feel real good." His hand snakes down between you two and his fingers go to spread you open.

You let out a little moan and whisper a soft, 'yes' and it's all he needs to continue. His middle finger rolls your bud gently at first until you start to squirm and push against his hand for more. He applies enough pressure to the circular motion that has you seeing stars. He continues rubbing circles on your clit and your hips buck up against his hold. It felt so good.

You moan out in pleasure when he slides two fingers into your hole with ease, your arousal making it so easy for him. He pumps his fingers in you once or twice, pushing into that spot that has your back arching off the bedroll. Kyle keeps his fingers buried in you for a moment, spreading them out and curling them in a come-hither motion. His lips find their way down on your neck, leaving faint love bites. Sucking on the exposed skin with enough force to pull a loud moan out of you.

"Kyle..." A low breathless whimper escapes your lips as he comes off your neck with a pop. "Please, please."

"Sound so pretty when you moan my name like that. Shoulda done this sooner." He works his fingers in you again, thrusting them up into you over and over again. "Fuck you're so fuckin' wet."

You're moaning so loudly you're sure if you weren't alone on the side of the road you would have woken a whole neighborhood. When you try to muffle those moans, he stops moving his fingers leaving you just teetering on the edge. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten, he can feel the way your pussy flutters around his fingers.

"That's it sweetheart, let go for me. Look at me when you cum." He holds your jaw with his free hand making you look up at him.

Your eyes widen and as you finally clench around his fingers giving you that orgasm you desperately begged for. His fingers keep pumping in and out of you until you're whining, and tears are beginning to spill from your eyes.

"Shh, I know, but I gotta make sure you're nice and prepped for me darlin' don't wanna hurt ya too bad." Kyle whispers in your ear until he pulls his fingers out of you finally. You whine at the loss of contact, suddenly feeling so empty. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips and swirl his tongue around the digit. "Think you're ready for me baby?"

"Kyle, please. I want this, I want you!" You whimper.

"That's a good girl. Roll over on your stomach for me." He leans back up and gestures for you to do as he says.

So, you do, you roll over on your stomach and just as you do, he tucks a pillow under your stomach. His hands glide up and down your legs until they find purchase on your hips. They tighten and squeeze around your waist pulling you back against his cock. Kyle glides you back against his member, grinding your wet pussy up and down his shaft. He lets out a soft moan and lets his head lull to the side.

"Oh," He says quietly as the tip of his cock nudges against your folds, "thaaaaaat's it." Kyle slips every inch of his cock into you slowly, dragging your velvet walls back against him. He pushes and sinks deeper into you until he bottoms out.

"O-Oh god." You bury your face in the bedroll. "Fuck feels so good."

"You have no fuckin' idea..." He grips your hips and begins slowly thrusting in and out of you, "how many times I've thought about fuckin' you senseless. How bad I just wanted to make you fuckin' mine!" His voice comes out in a breathless moan over your desperate cries.

" 'm yours!" You're a mess at this point and he hasn't done much but finger you and start a lazy pace. Each time he drags his cock out he pulls all the way out leaving you empty again. Only to push it right back in at that antagonizing slow pace, like he's trying to get you to remember every little vein on his cock. "Please just go harder, I can take I-I promise!"

"Yeah? Want me to really fuck you baby? I was gonna take my time with ya, show you just how badly I wanted ya." Kyle bucks into you with a sharp thrust making you bounce forward, "but listen to yourself, beggin' for my cock. Beggin' me to go faster. Do it again."

You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut; the first time was easy you weren't really thinking about it. Now that he's making demands of you it makes you feel flustered. That embarrassing feeling of having him looking down at your wrecked form washes over you. When his fingers card through your hair and grip the base of your roots, you let out a shocked gasp.

"Darlin' I believe I asked you to do somethin'. I ain't exactly a patient man right now. Not from the way you're squeezin' me soooo tight." He nudges your insides with a lazy little thrust. All it does is make you moan and claw at the bedroll.

"Please Kyle! Please, please, please" You're reduced to nothing but moans and whines. Begging him to do something, anything!

He seems satisfied with that from the way he pulls you back against his chest. Pulling your head out from the bedroll and letting your moans ring out into the night. With a quick slap against your ass, he begins to pick up the pace. The length of his cock claiming you and pounding into you. Your heart rate spikes as he pushes into you deeper than his fingers could reach. He hits that spot in your pussy that his fingers hit earlier, the one that has you seeing stars and drooling. Kyle lets out a moan when your cunt tightens around him again, one that lets you know just how good you make him feel.

"So fuckin' tight. You take me so fuckin' good baby, like you were made for me. Made to take this cock. Fuck gotta feel you cum around my cock this time. That's it, that's it." Kyle grunts and takes his hand out of your hair. Snaking it around your form he grinds his fingers against your clit again.

Your eyes roll up to the back of your head from everything. The way his cock bullies your insides, how his fingers assault the already sensitive bundle of nerves, and the way he spouts filth in your ear. The praise makes you feel so good, puts you in a head space you've never been in before. The only thing you can think about is what he tells you to. Right now, he wants you to cum around his cock, so you do. You don't even register it until it happens. Until his hips begin to lose that rhythm and he stops pulling out as much.

But when your walls clamp down around him like they had done his fingers, milking him for everything he's worth, he lets out a low moan. He calls your name, not a pet name or the fake name that you've been accustomed to. Your name.

"That's it baby. Fuck I love you, fuck I love you." There isn't so much as a second thought as he just repeats how much he loves you. After one final hard thrust he's spilling into you, filling you with his hot cum. He empties until it's dripping down your thighs, creating a white ring around the base of his cock.

Both of your bodies were wet with sweat from being pressed together. What little strength he has keeps him from collapsing on top of you. His chest pressed against your back, your hearts beating in unison. Eventually Kyle sits back up and slips his cock out of you, carefully lowering you down onto your bedroll again.

You look up at him with an exhausted smile, absent mindedly pushing stray curls out of his face. He looks down at you and smiles in return, he takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm. That afterglow of sex that clings to you and the way you look disheveled has to be his new favorite sight. You guide him down towards your chest and let him rest his head against your heartbeat. He closes his eyes and holds you close.

"I love you too." You say after a while, not sure if he's asleep or not from the way he hasn't stirred.

"Be mighty awkward if ya didn't." Kyle murmurs in between your chest, placing a gentle kiss onto your collarbone.

"Took you long enough to confess." You joke.

"Yeah...don't know what I was thinkin'. Guess I just didn't wanna put them feelin's out there if you weren't inclined to stick around. You got dreams of settlin' down somewhere quiet..."

"Nothing says you can't be there with me when I do."

"I don't know if I could ever go back to a quiet life like that...I don't think I deserve somethin' like that."

"Oh hush." You cup his face and bring it up to yours. "Don't ever wanna hear you talk like that again Broflovski. You're a good man, I told you that before. I don't love bad men."

"You ain't ever been wrong before."

"Wasn't wrong when I went out to find you all of them months ago. I ain't about to start."

"Ain't?"

"Huh?"

"You said ain't. Never heard you talk like that before, usually you talk all proper like. I think you're pickin' up my accent."

"Go back to laying your head down!" You huff and shove his face back down into your chest which only makes him chuckle.

"If I get to wake up to somethin' like this every day.... I reckon I can see myself settlin' down. Maybe we can get a little farm, start our own little ranch."

"I like that...we can send a letter to your brother, and he can join us."

Kyle smiles warmly at that. You remembered his brother, that conversation on the road that started all this. He closes his eyes and begins to picture it all. You and him tucked away in some area in Colorado with his brother who he hasn't seen in years. Maybe down the road you could change your last name to his. His hand finds yours and he rubs his thumb over your ring finger. Imagining a little metal ring, one that matches his.

The road’s starting to look a lot less lonely.

<- Previous Chapter

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Part 8

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC 

Summary: *SLOWWWW BURRRRN* You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

WC: 2300

Taglist: @cottoncandyloverrrr

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Burning Hearts Chapter 8: Doctor’s Visit

— — 

“Damn girl… you look like shit. Your ankle is mad swollen.” Ikkaku’s eyes rake over your body, covered in superficial lacerations and multicolor bruises in varying levels of healing. 

“Gee, thanks for reminding me.” You roll your eyes and step into the steaming hot bath. “It’s not like I have this shooting pain all over my body to remind me that I look like hot garbage.” You carefully lower yourself into the water. Every single muscle in your body cried out in agony. “Ow, ow, ow, ow…” You finally settle into the tub and sigh. 

Ikkaku continues panting her toenails a bright shade of coral from her perch on the bathroom counter. 

“I just got my period, too. I feel like I got hit by a fucking train.” You close your eyes and slide deeper under the hot, soapy water. “Can you grab some tampons out of that drawer? I want to bring some back to my room.” 

Ikkaku sighs in sympathy. She opens up the top drawer and pulls out a box. 

“You’re bleeding AND you’re beat up like that? You better stay in tomorrow and rest.” Ikkaku says. 

“HAH! Yeah right. And who is gonna tell your psycho captain that I’m taking the day off? Because I’m certainly not doing it. He’d probably cut my arms off and put them on backwards or something.” 

“Come on, like he’d harm a hair on your head.” Ikkaku responds and chuckles. 

“Umm??? Who do you think kicked my ass this bad??? He doesn’t exactly go easy on me.” You turn your head to face Ikkaku. 

She scoffs. 

“That honestly shocks me, he’s so different with you.” Ikkaku blows on her wet nails.

“What do you mean?” You inquire. 

“I can’t really explain it… he’s just been like… weird since you got here. I mean, he’s always been weird… but with you he’s extra weird.”

“What are you implying?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“Nothing!” Ikkaku throws her hands up. "All I’m saying is that there’s been some sort of shift in the guy since you came into the picture. I’m not complaining, it’s been pretty nice having someone to ‘girl talk' with, you know?” 

“Mhmm…” You knew she was hiding something, but you were too tired to pry further. “I hope you get to meet my friends some day, I think you’d like them.” 

Ikkaku smiles. 

“I’m sure I would. Now get your ass out of that tub and tell Law you aren’t training tomorrow before you fall asleep and drown in there.” 

“I think I’d rather drown.” You joke as you sink down further into the tub. 

“Come on, I’ll help you up.”

Ikkaku comes over to the side one the tub and you sit up to allow her to help you up. “Ah!” Your ankle nearly gives out as you try to step out of the tub. 

“Yeah, as much as you don’t want to believe it, I think a doctor has got to look at that…” 

— — 

*knock knock* 

Law looks at the clock. 

11:45 PM

Who was coming to his office this late in the evening?

“Yes? Come in…”

A tired looking, wet-haired Daisy shuffles into his office. Was she limping?

“Hi…” 

“Hi back… what’s wrong with your leg? You’re favoring your right. You weren’t doing that at training today.” He couldn’t help but ask… he was a doctor after all. 

“I think I twisted it… didn’t hurt until I got back. Ikkaku made me come and have you look at it. It’s probably nothing. Since I’m here, I have some cuts that might need stitches, so you should probably- woah-“ 

Daisy stumbled, her gaze losing focus. She puts her arms out in front of her. 

“I think I might-“ Her eyes rolled back. 

“Room!” 

With a quick ‘Shambles’, Law swapped Daisy out with a sock that had been discarded on his bed in the adjoining room. He had caught her right before she hit the ground. Law rushes through the archway to assess Daisy’s situation. She was laying on his bed, barely conscious. 

“Hey… Wake up, you’re okay, you just passed out.” Law sits at her side on the bed. 

“I-I did?”

“Yes. Have you been feeling dizzy lately? Light-headed?”

“Not really. I was in a super hot bath because-“ she stops, hesitant to tell him something. “Well, because I needed a bath.”  

“Have you been drinking enough water?” 

Daisy rubs her eyes. 

“I don’t know? I thought so.” 

“Any headaches? Body aches? Fever?” Law continues his laundry list of medical questions. 

“You threw me into a tree like, six times this morning, my whole body always aches.” 

Law furrows his brow with concern. Had he pushed her too far today? She never said anything about it… A pang of guilt reverberated through his chest. 

“That would’t explain the passing out on its own… are you menstruating?” Law asks. 

“Ew, Law! That’s personal!” Daisy’s cheeks turn pink. 

“I’m a doctor, it’s a fair question to ask after a fainting spell.”

“Okay well my primary care physician is a reindeer, so I don’t need you prying into my cycle.” Daisy snaps at him. 

“So that’s a yes to the previous question…” Law catches Daisy rolling her eyes. “I’ll give you some iron pills and an anti-inflammatory. That should help. Now let me see your ankle.” 

Law rises from the bed and moves to the foot of the bed so he was standing at her feet. He pulls up her sweatpants to her left knee. The ankle was swollen with a large purple bruise. 

“Gods, when did this happen?” Law sighs as he accesses the damage. He gently picks up her foot and she winces. Daisy must have noticed the guilty, pensive look in his eyes. 

“Hey, I don’t think you did it… I probably tripped over a root or my own feet or something in the garden, you know how I am.” Daisy gave him a weak smile. Her smile did little to alleviate him of his feeling of repentance. As clumsy as you were, it probably was him that caused the injury. 

“Right.” Law finishes examining her ankle and gingerly sets it back down on the bed. “I’ll go get you that medication and some ice for this. I don’t think it’s sprained, just badly twisted. You are going to need to rest for a few days until you can train properly again.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Daisy hangs her head. 

“Why?” Law asks stoically. 

“Because I won’t be able to train for a bit… we’re wasting time… aren’t you mad?”

“Pushing you past your limits now won’t help in the long run. It won’t be more than a few days, I’m sure of it. I see the cut you were talking about, I’m going to stitch it up. I’ll be right back.” 

Law heads back into his office and collects some supplies from his cabinets and drawers, places it all on a metal surgical tray and returns to the foot of his bed. He picks up the large ice pack and the medical tape from the tray and begins fastening the cold pack to the swollen ankle. After carefully tending to her foot, Law places an extra pillow underneath the injury to elevate it. 

“I’m going to have to get closer to do the stitches, can you move your other leg?” Law points at Daisy’s right knee and she pulls it in towards her body, leaving him room to sit on the bed and work. 

“I’m going to slightly numb the area and begin. You okay?” Law checks in with a glance to her face as he readies the needle and thread. 

Daisy nods. 

“I, uh, I would look away if you’re still feeling faint.” Law says as he notices her eyes on the wound he was about to begin sewing together. 

“It’s kind of hard not to look… can you distract me or something?” 

Law’s breath catches in his throat. 

“What?”

“I don’t know! Talk to me or something, so I can take my mind off it?”

“I mean, I’ll be kind of busy. But you can talk if you’d like…” 

There was a short pause. 

“So. What’s your favorite color?” Daisy asks. 

“Wha- huh?” Law cocks his head and meets her eyes. “My favorite color?” 

What the hell was she talking about? He hasn’t been asked this question since he was young and his baby sister would make him macaroni art… No, wait, Cora asked him once… he wanted to know what color sprinkles to put on his 14th birthday cake… 

“Yeah, mine’s yellow. What’s yours?” Daisy interrupts his wandering train of thought.

Law returns his gaze to the task at hand and begins stitching the wound at its corner. 

“Um. I don’t have one.” 

“Oh come on. No one’s that buttoned up.” Daisy rolls her eyes. “You’re that committed to the dark and mysterious bit that you won’t even tell me your favorite color?” 

There was a pregnant pause.

“I don’t talk about myself because it would only cause people to be sympathetic towards me, and that’s the last thing I want. Everything before I founded the Heart Pirates is nothing short of tragic, and it’s a past I’m still trying to avenge… and, blue, I guess…” Law is grateful he has to focus on stitching the wound, there’s no way he’d be able to make eye contact with her now anyway. He sees her smile softly out of the corner of his right eye. 

“Blue is nice.”

Daisy hisses as Law pierces the skin with his needle in a particularly thick spot, the numbing medication only doing so much. 

“SO,” She winces as she tries to distract herself. “You were really touchy about the record player… Who did you say it belonged to again?” 

Law stops. Silence falls again. 

“An old mentor of mine.” Law continues working. Daisy looks at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to elaborate… but her expression was soft, not wanting to rush him. 

“Corazon… he saved my life… It’s a long story. I was very ill as a child. I’m from Flevance-“ 

“How? Everyone from Flevance died from Amber Lead Disease? I heard about it when I was real young… my dad used to tell me about it so we wouldn’t go play in the mines.” Daisy interrupts him. 

“That’s why it’s a long story… I thought you wanted me to talk to you?” Law can’t help but smirk a bit. 

“Right, sorry, go on.” Daisy giggles a bit. *How cute.* No… not cute.

“Anyway…” Law continues sewing up the gash on Daisy’s leg.  “You know who Donquixote Doflamingo is, right, yes?”

Daisy nods. 

“So when I was 13…” 

Law spends the entirety of 30 minutes explaining his tragic childhood while carefully patching up Daisy’s open cuts. 

“Gods, Law… And I thought my life sucked… I’m sorry that happened to you, I really am.” Daisy reaches down and touches Law’s clothed bicep. Law flinches. 

“Sorry…” Daisy says after feeling him recoil from her touch. 

“No.. it’s ok. I just… don’t tell a lot of people that.”

“My family was killed too. I can’t say I relate to all of the other shit, but we have at least one horrific ordeal in common. That’s how I ended up with Grey Jaw…” 

“You don’t have to tell me about it. I know that it’s-“

“It’s fine. You asked awhile ago and I didn’t answer. I guess I wasn’t ready…” Daisy sighs. “He burnt my island to the ground, taking me and the other young girls to ‘work’ for him after we watched him murder our families. I was 16. I was there for 4 years… it was all a blur really… tried to force it out of my head…” Daisy sniffles. 

Law pretends not to notice and continues his work. Daisy swallows hard.

“When I was 20, we were freed by the Marines who launched a surprise raid on the ship. I ended up on some dinky little island and bartended for another 4 years before Luffy showed up and asked me to join his crew. Aaaand now I’m here in this mess…” Another sigh left her lips. 

“But you hate the Marines now?” Law asks. 

“There are good marines. Just like there are good pirates.” Daisy looks up at Law to meet his eyes. “You can understand that, right?”

He nods, knowing all too well. 

“All done.” 

“Thanks, doc. Can you ‘shambles’ me back to my room or something? I’ve already overstayed my welcome, I think.” 

“Just sleep here. I was going to finish research and crash on the couch anyway.” Law rises from the bed. 

“You’re sure?” She asks. 

“Yeah, and here’s a hot water bottle… for the, you know…” Law hands her the heating pad. She shyly smiles as she grabs it from his hands. “Get some rest. Yell if you need something, I’ll just be next door.”

Law is halfway through the archway when he hears her. 

“Law?”

“Yes?”

“Goodnight.” She smiles warmly at him. 

Law feels something tingly and foreign shoot through his veins. Looking at her, he couldn’t help but smile back. Genuinely. 

“Goodnight Daisy.” 

xx 

**Authors Note** PART 9 WILL BE UP TOMORROW FOR VALENTINE'S HEHEHE IF THAT GIVES YOU A HINT! Also PLEASE comment and let me know if you want to be in the taglist for this series! Sorry for the slowest burn on the planet, I simply am being so self indulgent...

[sugar-omi]

i start school in 12 hours 😧

so to keep from losing my sanity imma ramble about how Cove would make school fun if you hate it, like me!

Going to school with him, rather it's by bus, car, or on foot is always nice bc you guys can just talk and hang out on your own.

If someone ever tries to start shit w you, he's there and ready to kick ass. (not literally, he's a gentle giant. i mean unless he really has to)

If you get easily burnt out and lack motivation to do your school work, you guys can have study sessions!!! although results may vary when it comes to how much work you actually get done 💀

Sits next to you in all your classes and pouts when your schedules don't line up. Promises to see you at lunch and if you hate the caf like me he makes it soo much more bearable just by being there.

If you're a complainer like me, he'll listen to you and give solutions

his solutions: "let's just skip."

you don't tho. not too often at least

i feel like Cove would definitely be the type to skip for you. Like you tell him you're not going to school and he's already at your window like 'ok so what are WE gonna do then?'

doesn't matter if he was dressed and ready to go, he doesn't wanna be there without you.

UGH HES THE BEST I NEED HIM SO BAD

THAT LAST BIT MADE ME SMILE

school was hard for me socially n I never did the homework, so cove would definitely help you do the homework even if you end up copying some of his answers

socially, like I said before he tries to take thr heat off you. and I agree he doesn't rlly get physical!!! but if someone is giving you a hard time he comes up behind them, puts a hand on their shoulder.. "why don't you stop bothering them?"

or will stand in between you and crosses his arms. cove isn't that scary but he doesn't care abt that, he just wants to protect you

will indulge in your complaints too!!! even shares his own complaints. AND BACK TO THAT SKIPPING THING

okay just to set the scene, let's say you're really stressed and end up having an anxiety attack or feel one coming on before class. cove pulls you to a secluded spot and you end up calming down and crying while he holds you, eventually falling asleep with your head in his lap while he stands guard.

after that, whenever you get stressed or tired. anything like that, he finds a spot you guys can hide and you'll skip class.

you try not to do it often since they'll end up calling your parents, but you treasure those little moments bc he'll share a snack or doodle w you, or even better play more hangman w you <333

will play tic-tac-toe in the middle of class!!!

also I love cove climbing thru your window fully dressed for school and he's like "so, what did you dream last night bc I dreamed I was a SHARK which was rlly cool but then you were a fish n I ate u and I woke up and cried-"

this man is crazy istg

omg if this is like step 3 n youre dating he'll walk you to all your classes and squeezes your hand goodbye bc he's too embarrassed to kiss in front of your classmates n teacher (definitely does it once on the cheek and RUNS AWAY)

yall never live down how lovesick you are I promise

OMG SENDS TERRI AND RANDY TO DELIEVER MESSAGES OR SNACKS N STUFF

once had terri deliever a little sticky note w a heart on it or smth and terri went "omg yall are so CHEESY EVEN WHEN YOURE APART" randy is giggling and teasing you too

omg imagine he's in PE and he sees you. he runs to the door or window and looks back and forth before he steals a hug or kiss (pls kiss him, if not you owe him 2 kisses to replenish his energy fully)

teacher: holden! get back here. stop making out w y/n!

cove: *jumps 10 feet* y-yes! omg.... I'll see you later y/n<3

[ribbondee]

My Tiny Genius, a SpongeBob SquarePants ficlet

After a long day of once again trying and failing to steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula, Plankton is feeling down in the dumps. It's up to Karen to cheer him up.

Fic is under the cut!

There were many words to describe the Chum Bucket, and pleasant certainly was not one of them. Overall it reeked of filth, grime and all sorts of health code violations. A certain musty odor seemed to always linger in the air, no matter how much air freshener one used. Truly, it was a wonder this place was still in business. There were many theories as to why, but truly no one except for the restaurants’ owners really knew.

One of said owners was in the lobby, waiting as she always did for her husband when he was off with one of his schemes. Karen was standing in the room in her mobile apparatus, her screen blank as she waited ever so patiently. Best case scenario Plankton would simply fail as usual. Worst… the Chum Bucket was blown to smithereens again. Neither outcome was good, but it was obvious which one was more favorable.

Finally, a small tapping sound came from one of the doors. He was back. Karen wheeled over to the red double doors and let the poor man in. He was a mess. He was covered in ash and some bruises, and she was immediately concerned. “Plankton-” she began.

“Not now honey.”

Plankton sulked off, no doubt on his way to the lab. “Plankton!”

The tiny organism turned around to face his computer wife. “What?”

“I have dinner ready.”

“I ain’t in the mood for holographic meatloaf.”

He turned back around and went on his way. Karen put her robotic arms on where her hips would be and rolled on after him. “What kind of attitude is that? At least let me patch you up! It looks like it hurts!”

“No it- ow. Ok fine.”

Karen bent over and picked up the creature in her metal palms and gently lifted him up and began to wheel him into the lab area. She set him down on a counter and got out the first aid kit that was for this sort of thing.

“How’d it go”, she said as she began to clean his wounds.

“OW! Easy!”

“Sorry sweetie. But how did things go? Didja get that formula this time?”

“What does it look like? Nope. I failed again. Always.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I… I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“What do you think?! I can’t get that formula! Krabs is always one step ahead!”

“Oh hon, surely you’ll get it next time”, Karen said, giving Plankton a little pat on the back which caused him to fall flat on his face.

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

Plankton stood, and sighed. “That’s what you always say. I always go for it again, and it blows up in my face! Literally! Look at all these inventions. Failures. All of them.”

Plankton’s eye was beginning to tear up.

Karen felt her circuits beginning to tingle with pity. Poor little fella. She remembered all of the earlier formula-nabbing schemes, and how motivated and eager her husband was. With each failed plan Plankton grew ever more weary, which was odd as he was usually quite the tenacious type.

“Oh Plankton”, Karen said tenderly.

“Oh Karen! I’m a failure!”

Karen gasped in horror. “You are NOT!”

“How?”

“For starters, you build all these amazing inventions that are way ahead of their time! You’re brilliant!”

“Go on.”

“You went to college!”

“Yeah!”

“And you're gonna GET that formula!”

“Yeah!”

Plankton made sure to say the last year extra loudly, clearly filled with his usual overinflated ego once again. It usually never took too long to reignite his drive via a small pep talk, something Karen was very happy to provide for her beloved single celled spouse.

“I am going to get the formula, and make Krabs eat dirt!”

“I know you are, honey. But I think you should rest or eat first.”

“No I- ow. Yeah alright.”

“That's the spirit, little guy. Now let's go and relax for a while. You've earned it.”

Karen picked up her now relieved husband, and began to wheel them towards their living quarters so the poor little thing could rest.

“I love you, my tiny little genius.”

“Heh, love you too babe.”

And so the pair of strange lovers were off, for now they would relax and perhaps discuss oh so evil, diabolical and lemon scented plans for the future.

THE END

[queenimmadolla]

OKAY OKAY FOR PENNY AND DAD!EDDIE

So reader is baking cookies for Penny to take in her lunch and she steps out and asks them to take them out for her. Big mistake. Reader comes back to find Eddie and Penny red handed and there are like two cookies left so now she has to make a whole new batch :/

loved writing this one and hope everyone likes the new addition to the fam ;) steve’s SO is implied to be another character from (CYM) but i also like the idea of inserting readers into the scenario with him which is why no name or description is provided. happy reading, and PLEASE let me know if you like it. as always, reblogs are appreciated!!! took a little inspiration from look who’s talking :)

Cookies ‘n Clean - Fall of ‘91 (young parents!Eddie Munson x fem!reader)

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: if anyone had told you you’d be having this type of conversation with a four year old while making cookies, you definitely wouldn’t have believed them. and eddie still can’t say no to your daughter.

warnings: fluff, talk of assigned sex and gender identity (keep in mind, this conversation is with a child so it may not be as in depth as some would like, it is also based on a conversation i had with my little nephew), mentions of colic, judgement free zone

word count: 2.4k+

“Shit,” You mumbled, hurriedly wiping your hands of any dough on a kitchen towel before rushing over to where the phone rang on its holder.

“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver, shouldering the phone before you went back to mixing the chocolate chips with the dough in the large bowl over the counter.

“Hey!” Your best friend’s voice sounded a bit faraway, like she’d stepped away from the phone while she rang you and rushed back once you’d picked up. “Sorry if you’re busy—wait, are you busy?”

“Uhhh,” You glanced around at the kitchen counter, covered with baking materials and flour. The floor looked no better, the flour fall out on the floor had tiny little handprints pressed into it, baby Wayne had been working on a masterpiece before Eddie came to the rescue and hauled him off for a bath. Penny had gone with him, having given herself the title of Daddy’s Little Helper. Penny’s first day of preschool was tomorrow, and you had wanted to make her some cookies, what with how big of a fucking deal it was that your four year old was approaching her school days. It kind of scared you, actually. “No, not really. Why? What’s up?” “I’m pretty sure Winnie’s got colic, she’s down for a nap right now, but I was hoping I could borrow that book you had about it. I’m going crazy over here, I feel so bad when she’s screaming like that, and Steve starts crying whenever she cries.” Of course Harrington would, he was big softie for his newborn.

“Yeah, of course. Let me just put these cookies I’m making into the oven, and then I’ll bring it over.” You could hear the heavy sigh of relief she heaved.

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.”Once you’d hung up, you finished mixing everything together and began placing the cookie dough on the parchment covered baking sheet.

“Eddie?” You called out into the hall before returning to the kitchen to slide the cookies into the oven and setting the timer. He appeared at the hallway entrance, leaning against the wall and holding the baby coddled in a comically large towel with Penny in tow.

You snapped yourself out of your stare—God, seeing that man with kids, especially your own, would never fail to get you going—and Eddie gave you a knowing smirk.

“I’m gonna run a book over to casa de Harrington, I put the cookies in the oven already, can you just take them out when the timer goes off?”

“I think I can manage to do that. Not a hundred percent sure, but I’ll give it a go.” He teased, as you made your way over to give him a smooch, you could smell the baby shampoo he’d used on your son.

You turned your attention to your baby in his arms, just a little over a year old. Ever the grump, he didn’t appear too happy with the event he’d been recently subjected to. Though, he never looked like he enjoyed most things. He had his dad’s natural poker face. Always looked slightly intimidating until you started talking to him. “Mama will be right back, Waynie.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek as your fingers danced gently against his little stomach rolls to tickle him. His grumpy face immediately split into a wide smile, you could see the four little teeth he had along with a new one that was starting to break through his gums.

He giggled and went to reach for you, face immediately dropping back into a scowl as if to say ‘why would you even tease me like that?’ when you forced yourself to step away. If you picked him up, you’d never leave.

Penny locked her arms around your legs in a quick farewell hug before she went back to asking her dad a stream of questions (her latest fad, she had to know the reason behind everything) related to why ‘Way’ got to pee in the bath and she couldn’t. The last thing you heard—and you made sure not to stick around too long after that—was, “Daddy, how come Way has a wom down thewe? I don’t go one of dose. Did I? Does it fa’ off?” Good luck, baby.

About an hour later, much longer than you had thought you’d be away, you finally made it back home.

Winnie had woken up a little into what was supposed to be your quick drop off, and boy did that baby like to scream and cry. You felt bad watching the new parents struggle so you’d attempted to help, trying to sooth her while Steve squeezed in a quick shower and your friend had disappeared to pump. Poor thing looked like her boobs were gonna pop any second, and not that there even was a good way, but it wasn’t in the good way.

They’d both returned at the same time, ready to take on their daughter as you coached them in how to position her and gave them some other new parent advice. Ironic, what with you having become a mother pretty young. You opened the front door, lips pursing at the immediate sight that greeted you, thanks to the position of the kitchen being directly in front of it.

“Seriously?” Penny beamed at you from her seat at the table, wiggling in her booster seat. “Hi, mama! Wook! Daddy and me and are eatin’ cookies!”

“I can see that,” You mused, eyeing the nearly empty baking sheet before them. Of course Eddie hadn’t bothered putting them on a plate.

Eddie at least had the decency to appear sheepish, as he finished off the cookie in his mouth. “Hi, baby, how’d it go?” An obvious attempt to distract you.

“Fine, Harrington’s got his handful over there. Remind me to ask him in a couple of months if he still wants five more of them. Hey, by the way, what the f—’’ You trailed off, eyeing your innocent four year old and the baby paying not even an ounce of attention in his highchair. “—udge, man. Where are the cookies??”

He rubbed the back of his neck, biting back a smile.

“Between me and Little bitty pretty one,” Penny giggled at the use of one of the nicknames her daddy had given her. It was her favorite, and Eddie could clearly tell, grinning over at her in response. “Gone, I’m so sorry babe. I took a bite of one, she asked for one, and then we just couldn’t stop.” Penny gave him a look that made him sigh. “Alright, fine. I couldn’t stop.” He’d cut her off after three, already not eager for how difficult it was going to be to put her to bed tonight. And the night before her first day of preschool—he knew full well he’d cry when they’d drop her off—she was just so hard to deny. Eddie blamed that on you, if she didn’t look so much like you, he’d have an easier time saying no.Obviously, you loved your husband and your family dearly. But you were incredibly annoyed, you didn’t like to use pre-made cookie dough often, yours was made out of scratch (and clearly why Eddie hadn’t been able to restrain himself or Penny) meaning you’d have to do it all over again so Penny would have them for tomorrow.

With a sigh, you grabbed your still dirty apron from the hook it was placed on and slipped it back on, tying the strings around your waist. “It’s fine, I’ll make some more.” The guilt must have been seeping in because Eddie immediately stood up and made his way to your side, “I’ll help! It’ll be faster that way, and I wouldn’t mind learning how to make them myself.”

“Me, too! I can help, too, mama!” Penny comically pushed her seat back from the table and Eddie went back over to help lower her down. “I can mix!”

He laughed as he picked her right back up and placed her back in her seat. “Then you need to be at the table to do that, sweetheart.”

“See, we got a whole little bakery going on—Hey!” Eddie managed to move aside, just barely avoiding the baby spoon flung at him. His eyes followed the direction it had come from, smirking in amusement at his son’s poker face. Wayne hadn’t appreciated seeing you upset, and being a mama’s boy, had stepped up to defend you.

Or maybe he just felt left out. He was still a mama’s boy nonetheless. You walked over, pulling him out of his high chair, “Aw, Waynie baby wants to help, too. So sweet. Can mama have a kiss?”

You raised him to your face and he immediately placed his little hands on the side of your face to give you a drooly kiss, or rather his version of a kiss. He kind of just tried to nom on your face.

“Not sure how throwing utensils at me is offering to help, but he’s cute so I’m gonna let him get away with it.” With one last kiss to his head, you ran your hands through his curls—he had fluff on the sides of his head, but most of his curly hair ran down the center of his head, giving him something of a curly mohawk which his dad adored—before handing him over to Eddie, while you raided the cabinets for more ingredients.

Eddie helped shift some of the bowls around before a realization dawned on him and he groaned. “They’re both gonna need a bath after this."

That seemed to catch Penny’s attention, she piped up from her spot at the table, “OH YEAH, DADDY! How comes I don’t have uh penis?”

You did a double take, blinking hard over at her before you turned to your husband who was already watching you with a smirk. “You still haven’t told her?”

“Oh no,” he laughed, and so did Wayne, though he only did it because he was amused with his dad laughing. “We agreed that if we had a boy I would explain it, and if we had a girl, you would explain it to her. There’s our girl, honey.”

You shoulders slumped in defeat. Damn, you did remember saying that. “I’ll remember this,” you threatened, all smiles despite the circumstances.

“She’s waiting, hon.” He kissed the top of your head, still chuckling as he moved to open the fridge and grab the butter with the arm that wasn’t holding Wayne. “You don’t have a penis, because you were born with different parts. See, mommy has the same thing as you. But daddy has a penis, just like Wayne.”

It looked like the wheels were turning in her head. “ ’S because Way is a boy and imma girl?” You could tell Eddie was trying to act like he wasn’t actively listening, but there was only so many times he could open and close the fridge when most of the ingredients are already out on the counter.

“In this case, yes. But not always, sometimes boys have penises, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes girls have vaginas—that’s what ours are called—and sometimes they don’t. What we have down there doesn’t always make us a boy or a girl. Sometimes it doesn’t make us either. It all depends on the person, and who we are.” You grabbed the little bowl containing a little bit of extra dough you had from earlier, and a bag of chocolate chips, setting them down in front of her with a wooden spoon. If anyone had told you you’d be having this type of conversation with a four year old while making cookies, you definitely wouldn’t have believed them.

Penny immediately picked up the spoon, waving it around in the air. “So I can be a boy?” “Of course, if that’s who you are, absolutely.” You poured a couple of chocolate chips into the bowl, and made a mental note to watch her while she mixed it when she began eyeing the chocolate chips with longing.

“O’ a girl?” “Yup. You can be a girl.”

“Whatuf I dunwana be a girl o’ boy?”

“Then you don’t have to.” “Whatuf I wanna be boff?” “Then you can be both.” “Okay! I few wike imma girl wight now. ’S dat okay?”

You loved her innocence so much, there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in her little body, she was so accepting. It scared you to be sending her into the real world like this, where you had no real way of keeping her away from the negativity, where she’d be exposed to it. But you and Eddie were determined to raise her to be a good person, regardless of who she turned out to be once she truly began to discover things for herself. “Yes, baby. You can be whoever you want. Just remember, no matter what, you’re always gonna be my baby.”

Penny seemed to be losing interest in the topic as she had started to mix the chocolate chips in with the spoon. “Wook, mama! Imma cook!”

“Yes, you are. And if you don’t steal out of the bowl, you can lick the spoon.” You could tell she wouldn’t be trying to eat the cookie dough with that promise having been made so you returned to your place by Eddie’s side. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He was staring at you in awe, a small smile on his face as he cradled Wayne to his chest. Apparently, he was daddy’s boy for the moment, snuggling right into Eddie.

“I just really lucked out with you. Really glad I knocked you up.” “You’re so romantic.” “I’m also stealing a lot of what you just said, by the way. It was really good and I wasn’t too sure of how I was gonna explain it when he starts asking questions. Thanks, honey. There’s a ton of butter in that, by the way, I got pretty distracted.” “That’s okay, I’m planning on getting distracted while you try to bathe the both of them later.” “That’s fair,” He grinned, leaning in for a kiss. Wayne babbled in protest as he was squished between your bodies.

Two hours later, the cookies were plated and cooling on the counter.

You and Eddie were both kneeling in front of the bath, shirts absolutely soaked due to some heavy splashing as you made sure Penny and Wayne were squeaky clean. “I knew you didn’t mean it.” His lips were curled up into a smug smirk.

“Shut up.” You laughed, squeezing your eyes shut when Wayne began to slap his hands on the surface of the water again. “God, I love you.”

[stinkysam]

Jean Kirschtein - Quit shoving butterflies down my throat

Warning : none

Genre : Fluff

Synopsis : "could you please make a jean x male reader where did reader is very shy 🙇" - @loudprinceangel

Reader : male (he/him)

A/N : half is set during the first few seasons, but the rest is after season 4. // kinda short since the request was quite light…

You owe your friendship with Jean to Connie. This social butterfly didn't care how quiet you were and spoke to you whenever you were around.

He knew you weren't ignoring any of them since you answered him despite looking like he just asked you the most philosophical and difficult questions.

Soon Sasha joined in and so did the others and although it was quite stressful to be around this many people all the time, you slowly warmed up to the group of friends and got more comfortable. 

It took quite some time for Jean to develop feelings, his crush on Mikasa being the main reason for it. But falling for you felt like a whole different thing.

Mikasa never showed any interest, he could try to flirt or compliment her and she would just ignore him or answer politely if she felt particularly sociable that day. Which was not the same with you.

Maybe you had feelings for him, or maybe you reacted that way because you were too shy to give a different reaction, but seeing you get flustered by his comments always gave him butterflies.

He was very conflicted the day he asked you out. What if he read it all wrong and you didn't like him ? What if he was just making you nervous ?

Ymir almost spilled the beans without an ounce of actual interest in the situation, simply wanting Jean to ask you out and shut up. Luckily, Christa was there to stop her before telling you Jean was looking for you.

Despite claiming that he wants a peaceful and lazy life, he can't help but try to be your knight in shining armor. It's a little bit difficult when on the battlefield since you wouldn't necessarily be in the same group, but during calmer times he'd still be protective of you.

Jean is the type of man that proudly show-off his boyfriend. And he's really proud to be the first of the group to date someone. After Franz and Hannah.

No one in the group really minds it until he starts ranting about how perfect you two are and it's always Connie or Reiner that steers him in that direction. Pieck often does the same although she's a little bit more sly about it. You hate them for that.

Although Jean tries to act confident in public, it's a little bit different in private. Your shyness gets to him sometimes and it's quite endearing.

The number of times he gave you flowers without actually giving them to you, putting them in a vase instead and side-eyeing it until you finally arrive and see it. You turn to Jean and he instantly denies any thoughts you may be having. He doesn't know who got them for you, but it's not him. All he knows is that the man was good-looking. Absolutely stunning. And with amazing hair.

Jean loves giving you gifts and often gets you cake from the bakery you like. He also enjoys trying new sweets with you, even if it doesn't look very tasty.

He's quite touchy even if he tries to tune it down in public to avoid making you uncomfortable. He loves locking arms with you when you feel too awkward to hold hands. A lot of the time he will wrap an arm around your shoulders and join whatever discussion you're in.

Kissing your lips in public might be too much but you won't, and can't, stop him from kissing your cheeks, temples or forehead. It's a way to remind you he's there and still in love with you.

When you are confident enough to show your love in public, grabbing his hand and swinging it, kissing him or flirting back, he can almost feel his heart explode from joy. Oh, he's gonna marry you so fucking hard.

[jungkxook]

—midnight getaway. (m)

⟶ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader 

⟶ genre: sprinkle of youtuber!wooyoung + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 6,488

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: a “romantic” getaway surrounded by your friends leads to an interesting night alone with wooyoung

⟶ warnings: pwp, wooyoung says baby a lot bc he’s in love, some teasing woo, exhibitionism, doggy style, sort of praise kink, ass play (fingering, fem!recieving), breast play/fondling, finger sucking, riding, unprotected sex, creampie 

⟶ note: this is the first fic i’ve written in a while and my first ateez fic no one come for me pls also this is dedicated to the lovely @kithtaehyung​ !! thank you for always encouraging me and my wooyoung antics!! 💛

p.s. this is shamelessly inspired by this wooyoung selfie!!

“Ugh. You obviously like her.”

The begrudging sigh comes from Yeosang, narrowly giving Wooyoung a heart attack when he realizes that you’re still within earshot. This wouldn’t have been so much of an issue had Yeosang not been so clearly talking about you to Wooyoung, though he barely has any time to recollect himself. Instead, sprawled out on the poolside of the villa the group had rented out for their week-long vacation in Jeju Island, Wooyoung firstly decides that he has no idea what Yeosang’s talking about.

“We’re just friends,” Wooyoung retorts.

“A friend you invite with you on a romantic getaway?” Yeosang asks with a wolfish grin.

Wooyoung shakes his head. He can still see you through the windows of the villa, now in the kitchen talking to Hongjoong. You’re all bright-eyed and glowing from the sun, in a swimsuit you had been putting to use just a few minutes ago when you took a dip in the pool. “Some romantic getaway, considering there’s seven idiots in the same house as us. Also thought this trip was meant to have no distractions.”

Which isn’t really a lie, because while their trip to Jeju was mostly for their YouTube channels, it was also meant to serve as a well-deserved break for the boys, and their leisure work of choice wasn’t exactly taxing and the majority of their trip so far has been spent simply enjoying themselves. Hongjoong had been so adamant too that there would be nothing to hinder them during their well deserved break. And of course you jumped at the offer to tag along when Wooyoung asked you, because you were his best friend but, moreover, his best supporter when it came to his passion and his videos.

“Yeah,” San hums nonchalantly from within the pool. He had been one of the few to jump in with you earlier, “but I don’t think friends flirt with each other on a daily basis.”

“Not to mention your video was all about her,” Jongho adds from beside Wooyoung. “I thought we were supposed to be promoting tourism in Jeju, not Y/N.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, you had featured in a lot of the video Wooyoung had only just posted for his “Our Side of the Story” series he was doing (mostly daily vlogs, or aesthetic short films that you’ve always loved ━ much like the others, who have found a way to incorporate their love for music, dance, cooking, and everything in between in their vlogs), but you always made an appearance when you were so close with him. His viewers were used to it by this point, safe for the occasional questioning comments as to whether or not you two were dating. This video in particular saw you having the most fun in a while, frolicking the streets of the city, sprinting across the beach into the shallows of the ocean to try and splash Wooyoung with water; shaved ice shared between you and him and the way you snuck a bite of his when he was preoccupied, bike rides along the waterfront, and clambering along hiking trails so you could pose in a field of flowers that you had so desperately wanted to see.

Now, Wooyoung gives a roll of his eyes. “Funny. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yeosang sighs again. “When are you gonna tell her the truth?”

“The video already kind of did,” Jongho points out tauntingly. “If I was Y/N, I would have already realized.”

“Yeah━” San is beaming now as he clambers out of the pool, “but if you don’t want her, Woo, can I make a pass at her? Y’know, just to help take her off your hands━ Ow! What the hell?”

San jumps suddenly when Wooyoung chucks one of the pillows off of the lawn chair at his head.

“Keep your hands off her━” Wooyoung chastises. It’s meant mostly as a joke, but he worries when he recognizes a small part of him seems to care a little too much.

The others seem to find it funny at least, erupting into howling laughter that’s quick to fade when you wander back out to the pool and throw yourself next to Wooyoung.

“They’re definitely starting to catch on.”

Wooyoung lets out a weary sigh, though you’re starting to find it difficult to focus as he continues to kiss down your throat.

So, maybe if any of the boys walked in and saw the both of you in such a compromising position, they would be indescribably confused while also preparing to point an accusatory finger at Wooyoung for technically lying to them. But it isn’t really a lie, and certainly not one neither he nor you were keen on keeping for very long. It’s just that it seemed a whole lot easier to keep your newfound two month relationship with Wooyoung a secret for a small while.

It was mostly to give the both of you enough time to enjoy yourselves thoroughly without the prying eyes of your friends (who, while always supportive, are already passionately invested in your lifelong friendship with Wooyoung, pointing out his feelings for you even far before he could decipher them), their vlogging lifestyle, and their fans, while also waiting for the proper time to expose the truth. After the Jeju trip, you had both promised each other. But that plan was beginning to look more and more faulty as time passes.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to Jeju with your friends turned into a tricky game in which Wooyoung had entirely different plans that consisted of you only. Specifically, how many times he can find you alone away from the boys to have his way with you. By now, night has since fallen and, after a short duration of time unwinding around a small bonfire in the backyard, the boys had all since retreated to their own rooms. You’re positive most are already long asleep and the ones that aren’t are beginning to nod off, exhausted after a long day and drowsy with liquor from the night of drinking. You’re fortunate Wooyoung at least first chose to find you alone in your room of the villa, but you still panic. Because Wooyoung should be sleeping in his shared room with Hongjoong down the hall from yours, yet here he was.

“My video today probably didn’t help,” Wooyoung adds. 

You hum in response. “I don’t know if sneaking into my room will help with that either.”

At this, Wooyoung grins wide. “It’s fine. Hongjoong’s passed out cold. You should hear his snores. Plus━” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without wondering how quickly you can cum.”

You nearly choke as you hear the words fall from Wooyoung’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his fault ━ he has needs too.

The first night of your trip called for a joyous celebration at a nearby restaurant that resulted in everyone being blissfully drunk by the time you returned to the villa. You had gotten so dressed up for the occasion that Wooyoung hated to see it go to waste, adorned in a pretty floral sundress ━ one that has always been his favourite (and, no, he promises that’s not solely because of how nice your boobs look in it, though that’s definitely a plus). If the boys could hear his thoughts now, they’d certainly pick him apart.

The house, however big and spacious it may be, is certainly not empty. Even just next door to your room is the shared room both Mingi and San are in. This is a fact you choose to remind your dear boyfriend of now. “The boys are sleeping.”

“Screw the guys,” Wooyoung groans into your neck. His strong arms slide around your middle from behind, pulling you into an all too familiar and warm embrace. He’s caught you just before you can shed your dress and slip into something more comfortable, all radiant and shimmering from a day out in the sun. You melt almost immediately against his chest as he nibbles on the skin just below your ear, on the corner of your jaw. He whispers ardently, “You look really pretty today. You always do, but especially today.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. You instinctively reach out behind you to rest your hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the hair there. “I wore this dress just for you. I know it’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, because your tits look amazing in it,” he snickers. As if to emphasize this, he reaches down slyly to cup one of your breasts over the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, now you’re just trying to distract me into bed with you.”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully, a smug grin on his face.

You snicker, fidgeting in his hold to face him and patting at his shoulder. “Maybe if we weren’t surrounded by a group of seven drunk men who could potentially hear and walk in on me sucking you off at any moment.”

But Wooyoung has already waited all day for the boys to leave you two alone. Waiting any longer may as well have felt like an eternity in a certain type of special hell that he wasn’t exactly keen on.

“And?” A sudden smirk stretches across his face. He leans in close to you, lips brushing faintly against your ear. “You didn’t have a problem letting me fuck you against the practice room mirror the other day.”

You swat lightly at his chest, scoffing suddenly. “Wooyoung!”

But he has a point. In all fairness, it had been his idea to take you against the practice room mirror when the boys had gone home and you were dropping off food to your poor boyfriend still working late at night. You certainly hadn’t complained then when he had you coming around his cock with the practice room door left unlocked. It’s such a Wooyoung thing to say too, being that he’s not often caught off guard, especially when he’s so blatant and confident about all things sex.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night, Woo?”

“No, he’s in pain,” he pouts childishly. He bites playfully at the tip of your nose.

You sputter for air, dissolving into a fit of laughter. “You did not just call your dick a he━”

“Okay, I’m in pain,” he corrects. He starts kissing down and back up your neck. “It’s not my fault you look extra hot today. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun today. Is it so wrong for me to want to keep pampering my beautiful girlfriend?”

“With your dick?”

“Yes, with my dick.”

You snort.

“And━” He drags out the word purposely, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t even want you to suck me off, by the way. All I want is to fuck you senseless right now.”

Oh.

His words send a nerve right down to your core. Your thighs instinctively press together at the thought.

All things considered, you’re not any better. There was no denying how devastatingly attractive your boyfriend always looked, but especially today. A well-deserved break and the Jeju sun did him well, with a beautiful tan starting to glow on his face, free of any make-up or cover-ups. The usual stress of city life and work doesn’t weigh heavy on his brows anymore, and though his hair has gotten longer, it’s a neat and pretty mess ━ a little unruly from the sun and chlorine, and from having taken it down from its half-ponytail, but pretty nonetheless ━ with the under half of it bleached blonde and the top half dyed black. Dressed in nothing but a casual old t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, he’s both wholesomely cute and yet sexy at the same time.

And, while you are surrounded by a group of rowdy boys, Wooyoung isn’t necessarily wrong. He always seems to have a knack for making anything romantic enough if he tries, attributed to his charming ways. A night of lovemaking (or whatever he has in mind) in your room with a beachside view is, all things considered, kind of romantic.

You purse your lips now. “Think they’re all asleep?”

“With how wasted they are? Absolutely,” Wooyoung says brightly. “I tripped over a shoe in our room and Hongjoong didn’t even move.”

It’s risky, sure, but the sudden yearning to be with Wooyoung was almost debilitating. There was no doubt you could both get away with having sex in a packed house, right? Either way, it doesn’t really seem to matter. You’ve already been persuaded, and Wooyoung knows.

He pulls you in for a kiss and you let him get carried away for a moment, reveling in the way he needily nips and sucks at your lower lip. Then, finding a second of clarity, you can be heard saying against his mouth breathlessly, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Mmm,” he hums distractedly. “So quiet.”

But that was like asking Wooyoung not to breathe. It’s this passing thought, and the way he pulls and tugs you over to sit on his lap as he sinks onto the edge of the bed in a desperate haste, that has you giggling. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to the underside of your jaw and then along your throat.

You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck as you begin to rut your hips against his slowly. “You look really handsome today, baby. It’s nice seeing you so relaxed for once.”

His stare meets yours suddenly, all sparkling and awed. He grips your waist and presses you a little more firmly against his hips so you can feel his semi-hard dick against your inner thigh. “Ugh,” he sighs, “say that again and I’ll bust a nut right here and now.”

Another giggle meets his ears, but this time it’s a little less focused as it splinters off into a whimper the longer you continue to grind against him. You decide to humour him. “I saw your vlog. It was pretty.”

He audibly whines now, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. “Yeah? I worked hard on it.”

“Is that how you see me?” You think back to the video and how you looked, the soft music overlapping it all.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, “like that piece of washed up kelp you tried throwing at me today━”

“You’re so━”

“I’m joking. Of course that’s how I see you, but that’s only a fraction of what you look like to me. A camera doesn’t do you justice.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” You snicker.

“So pretty.” He kisses you again, this time a little more earnestly. He sighs dreamily against your lips, “No, actually. If my dick isn’t in you in the next minute, I’m gonna go insane.”

A delighted simper sounds from you. “Don’t even have to cum, just as long as you do━”

Your jaw drops open as you find an angle that has you pushing your clit against his clothed dick just right. But even though you had so innocently offered to only get him off, part of the fun was seeing how quickly and how many times he could make you cum before finishing himself off. You deserve it, after all.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. He takes a moment to appreciate you in your current state. You, straddling his lap, eager hips moving against his with your brows pinched in concentration, the pretty material of your dress hiking up around your thighs. He reaches down, palms rough as they grip at the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at you, already so needy for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Wooyoung fidgets beneath you. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at your throat.

“How do you want me first, princess?” he asks sweetly now, peppering kisses along your throat, tongue soothing the marks he’s left behind. “Want my fingers in you?”

“N-No━” You croak. “Just wanna feel your dick.”

Excitement prickles at the tips of his fingers as he massages circles against your hips. “In your mouth or in you?”

“In me,” You rasp. “Now. Please, Woo━”

He marvels for a moment at how he’s so stupidly in love with you and your pretty words despite them having such dirty implications, and he hastens to please you. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips as he smothers them against your mouth, but then the giddy sensation of finally getting to have his cock buried in your walls overcomes him. He murmurs into a wet kiss, “As much as I love this dress, let’s get it off of you.”

He hastens to help you shove the straps of your dress down your shoulders, then off your arms. Then, he watches as you stand up to shimmy your way out of it, the material pooling at your feet, exposing your figure and the fact that you’re not even wearing a bra. The swell of your breasts meets his eyes first, and you’ve barely just kicked your way out of your panties when he’s pulling you onto his lap again, warm mouth latching onto one of your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple, teeth nibbling on the sensitive bud. He can’t seem to get enough, moving to bite and suck at the soft flesh all over, shifting from one to the other, then down the valley of your breasts. A moan falls from your lips, hands pulling harshly at his hair as you push him further into your chest.

“Wooyoung…” You whine. “We gotta be quick.”

Though he wants nothing more than to mark up your chest all over, he relents only when he remembers that the boys are nearby. “Okay, okay━ Here━”

He grabs at your waist, shifting you around until you’re on your back splayed out beneath him. Towering over you, he pushes the material of his shorts down, pulling his aching dick from the tight confinements. Your eyes fall to the way he fists himself hurriedly, tip all red and glistening with precum, and the one prominent vein bulging along his length. You bite at your lip, legs instinctively spreading wider for him.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asks, excited. “With the guys here?”

“Think it’s too late to ask when we’re both already naked,” You giggle. You remind him again, this time a little weaker, “Just remember to be quiet.”

He hums in response. Then, he teases you by running the length of his hard dick against your slick folds, already dripping with slick arousal.

“God, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet already.” He taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, the sudden jolt sending your head spinning. As he rubs himself on you, the sticky wetness glides along the prominent vein of his length and spreads messily out to the top of your inner thighs. “Did I do all this to you?”

“Woo, no teasing,” You chastize in a small whine. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling, and you hate having to resist all his teasing touches. “What if someone tries coming in?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Let them. If it’s Seonghwa, even better. I can finally get payback for when he purposely ate some girl out on my bed.”

You snort lazily, stifling your giggles. “Focus, baby.”

“I am focused,” he says smugly. He emphasizes this by pressing his dick a little harder against your folds, teasing the tip of it against your entrance. “With you spread out like this for me, all sexy━ Fuck, I’m so focused.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is that the thought alone of one of the boys walking in on the both of you is enough to excite him to no end. He can imagine it now, one of them wandering into the room while you’re writhing beneath Wooyoung, taking his dick so well, moaning nothing but his name. He yearns to feel you all at once, hurrying to please you.

Without warning, he pushes himself into you, cock stretching you wide in just the way you both like. Almost immediately, low gasps and groans sound from the both of you.

“Ah, f-fuck! Woo━” You smother your sudden cries with a hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shit, I know,” he sputters for air. His voice is heavy in your ear, a low grunt only for you to hear. “You feel so fucking good, baby━”

His head is swimming even just at the way your walls wrap around his tip so snug. He pushes himself into you the rest of the way, bottoming out with a sudden forceful and indulgent thrust when━

The headboard slams against the wall, exceptionally loud.

“Fuck, Wooyoung━ Woo━” You grip at his arms. “The bed.”

His eyes meet yours, stunned momentarily as you wait and listen. A minute passes, but the house continues to remain silent.

“It’s okay. Even if they do hear, it’s not as if they probably won’t know what we’re doing,” Wooyoung points out, matter-of-fact. “We haven’t exactly been very careful lately.”

“Still,” You insist. Your walls throb around his hard dick, desperate for some sort of movement. “It’ll give me some peace of mind.”

His heart swoons at your timidness, and though he has fun teasing you, he would never actually want to risk getting caught by one of the boys (however many close calls he’s already had with you) or, worse, upsetting you to the point of no return.

In the next moment, Wooyoung pulls out of you, then pushes back in again, this time less forceful. He swears he tries to be wary of the bed and of making too much noise but, much to both of your dismay, while the frame doesn’t bang against the wall too noticeably, the bed still creaks beneath you.

Wooyoung grits his teeth. He tries again, then one more time, and though your head lolls back at the sensation of him stretching you wide, you meet his gaze with your own apprehensive hazy one. Even Wooyoung’s patience is wearing thin when all he wants to do is tear you apart ━ that, and the slight creak of the bed is enough to start driving him insane.

“Fuck this,” his pace stutters to a halt, “let’s get on the floor. Can you get on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“Good idea.” Your heart jolts in your chest from the excitement.

Within a matter of seconds, he’s parting from you, leaving you momentarily stunned at the loss of warmth. He helps you to your feet so that the both of you can sink to the floor on your knees. Before you can drop into all fours, Wooyoung stops you by reaching out for the blanket on the bed and tucking it underneath the both of you, but mostly to soften the ground underneath your knees. When he catches you surveying him with a fond gleam in your eyes, he quirks a brow.

“What? It’s just so you don’t get too uncomfortable,” he says sweetly, peppering a few kisses along your shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Amazing.” Your heart swells at all his gentle touches. You catch his lips on yours, faintly murmuring, “I love you. Like, so much.”

You can feel his grin against your mouth. “You know I love you too. And as much as I would also love to hear you go on about how I’m the most perfect boyfriend, I need to be in you right now.”

A pretty giggle meets his ears, and he marvels for a second how you’re so quick to oblige. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your ass juts out in his direction. You give it a little tempting wiggle, and he hurries to position himself behind you. With one hand on the small of your back, he guides you back down his length.

“Ah━ Fuuuck━” He moans. “Arch your back a little more for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told, leaning forward just enough on your elbows and sticking your hips back to meet his as he sinks balls deep into your core. Then, he’s crumbling apart, all breathy panting as he tries to focus.

“Shit, baby━”

“Mmm━”

“You’re so tight. So wet. I’m not gonna last,” he pouts, as if it’s a genuine disappointment. He watches as he pulls out of your heat just enough before shoving himself back in, his dick covered in a glistening sheen of your arousal. You’re so damn wet, he wonders how he hasn’t slipped from you yet. His hands grip and tug at your ass, spreading you to see the way your cunt pulsates and stretches around his dick. So perfect, almost as if you were made for him. “Tell me. Wanna hear how good you feel right now.”

“S-So good,” You mumble drunkenly. “God, you’re so good, Woo. Fuck━!”

His gaze droops down to your breasts, bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. He reaches around and grabs at one of your boobs. The gentle shake of the soft flesh in his palms is always his favourite feeling, and he can’t help but squeeze at them now because, god, he really does love your tits. If he had all the time in the world, he would do anything to fuck himself between your boobs, and cum all over your chest ━ but that will have to wait for now.

“Ah━ Fuck━ Wish I could take my time with you right now,” he moans, planting sloppy kisses along your shoulder. “I can’t wait till we’re alone. Gonna take care of you so well, baby.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. He reaches down with his other hand, thumb pressing against the tight hole of your ass. The sensation alone is enough to have you nearly keeling over, a strangled cry of pleasure ripping from you. “Want you coming on my tongue so bad. Gonna fuck you against every surface too. You deserve it. You’re always so good to me, princess.”

“Only for you,” You whimper. If he wasn’t so pressed for time, the affirmation alone would have been more than enough to make him melt in your very hands. But his dick is still so hard, and your pussy is still so wet, all he can focus on is not slipping from your walls with every thrust of his hips. “Ah, Wooyoung! Y-You’re so━ So hard━”

You bite harshly at your lip when a loud moan threatens to spill from you. You bury your face in the blanket around you, clutching so tightly at the material. A part of Wooyoung finds it amusing, if only because, if the boys are awake and don’t hear your lewd moans, there’s no doubt they won’t be able to hear the sound of skin against skin as his hips slap against your ass.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he coaxes now. “Moan out loud for me.” When you shake your head, he snickers. “Want it harder? Will that help you?”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips, a little rougher than usual. It sends you teetering forward, a broken groan tumbling from you that’s left muffled by the blanket. He can hear you mumble wantonly, “Don’t be a tease.”

A cheshire-like grin spreads across his face. “Here━ Come sit on my dick. Wanna feel you so deep━”

His words make you moan softly, followed by the way he pulls out of you just quickly enough to sit back against the bed. He tugs you onto his lap and you follow suit, spreading your legs further apart as you sink onto his leaking dick. Down, down, down, until it almost feels as if he’s hitting your cervix, and suddenly you’re not so sure you’ll be able to keep it together any longer. That, mixed with the way he’s gazing at you, all hooded eyed and alluring, you’re very close to dissolving into a mess right in his very arms.

“Ah━ Ah━ Fuck, baby━” You grip at his shoulders as you adjust to the new feeling, hips squirming above his. “Wooyoung, please━”

But your words fall short. The desperate plea that hinges in your voice fades into nothing more than the urgent need to feel more of him, to have him absolutely wreck you, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Please what, baby?” he taunts lazily. But he knows what he’s doing, slyly beckoning you to make a mess, and moan for him.

His palms are warm as they slide up your sides, then around your back, hugging you close to his chest. He thrusts his hips up just once into you, sending you into a haste that has you lifting yourself up and then back down his cock. As you adopt a steady and reckless pace that has you bouncing on his length, he watches your every reaction. The way your face contorts at the sheer pleasure, brows pinched so hard in concentration, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Your hands reach out to thread through his long locks, pretty blonde tresses running through the seams of your fingers. You tug lightly at the root, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N━” His head rolls back against the mattress at your quick pace. “You’re so fucking sexy━ So desperate for my dick━ Ah━”

He moans suddenly, only this time it’s less muffled than before. Whether he does it the first time to tease you or simply because he had gotten carried away, you aren’t quite sure. Either way, it’s enough to startle you, even amongst the daze you’re in.

“Wooyoung━” Your voice is a small warning, but it lacks any severity when it splinters into a whine. “Not so loud.”

“They’re━ Ah, fuck━ sleeping━”

You meet his mischievous stare with your own heedful one. Your pace slows, if only just, and you’re certain this time that when he moans even louder, it’s entirely on purpose.

“Woo!” You clamp a hand softly over his mouth, smothering the tail end of his crude groan.

The grin that forms on his face beneath your hand is evident of his amusement of his toying with you but it turns sluggish quickly. The sight to see is hot enough, with the drowsy lopsided smirk poking out from underneath your hand as he watches you continue to ride him, now a measured gyrating against his own hips. When he realizes you’ve chosen to keep your hand over his mouth, he reaches up to grab a hold of your wrist, his large fingers splaying out and then up over your knuckles.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay. Let it out,” he hums. He kisses at your fingertips, tongue swiveling around to suck on your digits delicately. “Not even one tiny moan? Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

He can feel your thighs begin to shake around him and, judging by the crescendoing of whimpers tumbling from your mouth, he senses you’re close. Your free hand still grips at his hair, this time a little tighter as you try to anchor yourself in place to rock your hips a little faster. Wooyoung hisses delightfully at the feeling, a small lethargic chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest.

Rough hands grab at your waist now, shifting you around abruptly until you’re splayed out on the floor on your back with him hovering over you. His length stays wedged snugly in your walls, never once slipping, and as he settles against your chest, he lifts one of your legs up and over his shoulder. An animalistic growl slips from him at your pinched face, and the way your cunt starts to squeeze around him. With this angle that his hips pound into yours, his cock hits so deep into your core, pummeling against your cervix again and again.

“H-Harder━ Wooyoung━” You pant. “Please━ I’m gonna━”

Finally, a moan sounds from you. Loud and unabashed, a little broken and exhausted, but beautiful to Wooyoung’s ears nonetheless. In fact, it’s so sexy of a noise that it’s enough to nearly push him over the edge but he relents, if only just for a little longer.

“Ah, there’s my favourite sound,” he smirks. His tongue lavs at the underside of your jaw, and your hand finds itself tangled in his hair once more. “Gonna be a good girl and let the boys hear you now?”

You try with all your might to silence yourself, but the task proves more and more difficult. A few more slams of his hips into yours, and you’re crumbling apart right before his eyes.

“Fuck━ Wooyoung━”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum for me.”

As you come, the sudden gush of wetness around your core coats his length and he almost accidentally slips from your cunt. You’re clenched so tightly around him, Wooyoung feels as if he has to gasp for air to stay focused. His eyes still stay trained on you, watching as your face contorts as you writhe beneath him. But it’s your shameless moaning that sets him off, albeit still softer than usual but much louder than he was expecting from you with the boys so close by.

“Ah━ You’re so fucking hot━” he whines. “Gonna cum━”

Every thrust of his hips sends you bobbing up and down, and as you come down from your high the pleasurable feeling of his hard cock still burrowed in your sensitive walls has you whimpering softly. Your legs try to separate further, beckoning him for more.

“Cum in me, Youngie,” you beckon dazedly. “Wanna feel it so bad━”

“Oh, fuck━” he gasps. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. Aren’t you?”

His pace quickens, hips snapping into yours urgently. One final shuddering thrust and he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, cock pulsating within your aching walls as his cum fills you up. He has to bury his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans, listening to the sharp gasp for air you take when you feel his release.

He rides out his high in a few more leisure rolls of his hips, though he seems more concerned now with kissing your throat slowly. He gently unravels your leg from his shoulder, then slumps against you like the comfortable heavy weight that he is. His dick lays softening still buried within your walls, now leaking with his cum.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” You hear him sigh dreamily into your neck. “‘Cause you are.”

“Almost daily,” You concur with a giggle. Your own fingers smooth out his hair, fixing the messy strands, and he croons with delight. He leaves a trail of sweet kisses up along your throat, then your jaw, and then the corner of your mouth. Safe for the laboured breathing as you both try to calm your shrill hearts, you’re made aware so suddenly of just how quiet the room suddenly is. “There’s no way the guys slept through all of that.”

“I’m sure they did.” Wooyoung nibbles gingerly at your lip. “There’s nothing to worry about. Especially right now. I’m so tired. We can deal with the potential consequences later.”

You snort. “How did I know that’s exactly what you would say?”

You catch him smirking before he plants one last kiss on your lips. Somehow, he’s able to pry himself off of you long enough to slip into his shorts laying discarded on the floor before disappearing outside of the room into the darkened hallway. He returns moments later with a damp towel to help clean up the sticky mess between your legs, then tugs you back onto the bed with him.

“They’ll see you sneaking out of my room if you sleep here,” You point out through a yawn.

“I’ll get up before them,” he insists. “Just give me an hour with you, like this.”

You can’t resist the urge.

At the very least, you fall asleep first in his arms, his fingers playing with your hair. He must slip away from you at some point during the night, unraveling himself carefully from your sleeping figure to retreat to his own room. You’ll tell the boys eventually of your relationship with Wooyoung, you swear.

But for now, there, under the covers of the bed, you have all the time in the world to enjoy yourself with Wooyoung in pure, unadulterated silence.

In the morning when you wake up, you join your boyfriend with the rest of the boys downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

You’re the last to arrive, having wanted to take your time in the shower ━ a fact that Wooyoung laments, because he wanted nothing more than to shower with you to “save water” (which really just translates to more sex), but with only two bathrooms and nine people, the feat seemed impossible. Now, you sidle into the seat next to Wooyoung at the kitchen table, smiling down at him when his eyes flicker to you which seems to go unnoticed by the others.

“How was your night?” Yunho asks passively once you’ve settled into place. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, as Wooyoung answers, “Best sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” This amused offhanded scoff comes from San under his breath. It causes Mingi to almost choke on his sip of orange juice as he snorts into the glass.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh, nothing,” San says. The smirk on his face says otherwise. “Thought we heard some loud noises last night. It was weird.”

Then there’s Mingi, leaning across the table to catch your attention alone. He shoots you a more merciful look, though he still seems entertained nevertheless when he whispers to you, “You have something on your neck.”

Your hand instinctively clamps onto your throat, over the spot Mingi points to as you mentally curse yourself. While you had been so preoccupied the night before trying not to make any noise, you forgot to warn Wooyoung against leaving any noticeable marks on your body ━ a bad habit of his, and your fatal mistake for forgetting to check the morning after.

The others are fortunately not paying attention, already absorbed in their own conversations, but the horror of so clearly being found out by San and Mingi sends you into a frenzy. It even seems to alarm Wooyoung judging by the way he starts laughing nervously, though maybe that’s because your knee bashes against his under the table and sends him jumping in his seat.

Clearly, you have a lot of explaining to do. Eventually.

The last thing you hear San say before he and Mingi howl with laughter seems to make even the charmingly confident Wooyoung slightly frazzled, and leaves you all the more confused.

“Some romantic getaway, huh?” 

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chapter: seven ( 12.3k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from sleep. You sit bolt upright, confusion and panic dousing you like twin buckets of ice water. You’d been having a nightmare about something, but you can’t remember what. The tattered ends of it are already slipping away, just out of reach. You don’t chase after them.

You fumble for your phone in the dark, fingers groping uselessly at your blankets until they close around it. The bright white light from your screen blinds you as you flip it over and you blink blearily, rubbing at your eyes with one hand and trying to answer with the other.

“Hello?” you rasp, mashing the speaker button. “Who is this?”

“Apologies for disturbing your sleep, ma’am.” A woman’s voice crackles over the other end of the line. You can hear exhaustion dripping off every word. “This is Officer Kwon from the Namhyeon-dong precinct of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Force.”

You squint into the dark expanse of your bedroom, a little frown on your face as you struggle to process what she’s saying. “....okay?”

“I’m calling because we’ve got two of your hybrids in custody.”

You blink slowly. “Hmmmm, I don’t think so...” you mumble through a yawn. “They’re all in bed.”

“We ran their numbers through the registry and you were pinged as the owner of both.” You hear papers shuffling and her voice get distant as she transfers the receiver to her shoulder to free up a hand. “We’ve got a rabbit calling himself Jeongguk and a Seokjin who the rabbit says is a deer-” She sighs. “Listen, I’m at the end of my rope here. They won’t tell me where they came from and the phone number of the business they were registered to before you is out of service. They’re hurt pretty bad, worse than what we can take care of here at the station. We can’t get them any sort of medical care without their guardian’s permission, so-”

Your eyes glaze over as you groggily connect the dots.

A deer and a rabbit.

Not canine, not feline.

Other.

Other.

You shove the covers down your legs and kick them over the side of the bed. “I’m on the way,” you tell her, already adding up the distance between your building and Namhyeon-dong. It’d take an hour to get all the bus transfers you needed- your eyes narrow as you squint at the time on your phone. 3:27 AM. You’d have to get a cab. Your stomach twists at the thought of the fare, but you shove the feeling down. This was no time to be thrifty. “Do whatever you need to.”

The officer exhales in relief. You can practically hear the tension leave her shoulders. “There’s a little hybrid clinic in the neighborhood. I’ll see if I can get the vet up and convince them to go.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. She gives you the address and you type it into your notes app, reading it back to her twice to make sure you got it right. She hangs up with a promise to see you soon and your phone locks, leaving you alone in the blue-black gloom of an early morning.

This wasn’t great. This wasn’t great any way you sliced it. You’d thought you’d have an extra two weeks to get the canines settled and all five hybrids to at least not want to kill each other. That’d been the plan, at least, when you’d sequestered yourself in your bedroom without telling Jimin and Taehyung goodnight or doing any introductions. Now the others were coming and you were on borrowed time. You drag your hands down over your face. “What are we gonna do?” Nothing but silence answers you.

When you were a kid and you’d had anything big before you- a massive school project you’d waited til the last moment to start, having to walk yourself to the market because your mom was too sick to go, a hard conversation with a friend- your mom had always told you to break it down into smaller pieces. Make the big thing small; do what you can for now. So, that’s what you do.

You shove your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, tug your backpack out from under your bed and grab a pair of socks. You slide them on as quickly as you can and head for the door. You tug it open and try to rush through, already on the way to your next small thing- but you stumble over a shoulder and go down.

You let out a yelp of surprise that quickly morphs into one of pain as your forehead knocks against the other person’s. Your hands slam down on either side of their head and their own fly up to your waist to steady you. You blink down at them, willing your eyes to adjust to the dark.

Hoseok is beneath you. He’s squinting up at you, his hair in disarray and his cheeks puffy with sleep. “Ow,” he croaks.

You wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, rubbing the spot on his forehead your own knocked against on autopilot. He seems to wake up a little at that, eyebrows inching up his forehead. You snatch your hand back. “Ah, sorry. I was worried I hurt you-”

“I’m okay,” he rasps, his voice still thick with sleep. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Okay.” You disentangle yourself from him and rise back to your feet. He struggles to get up too, mirroring you. The blankets pooled around his hips fall to his feet. You frown at the picture he makes, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion and indents on his cheek from the hardwood. “Did you...did you sleep out here?”

His ears fall and he lowers his head a bit between his shoulders. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did…”

You wrote off a lot of the behavior the boys exhibited that you didn’t understand as just a part of them being hybrids. When Taehyung affectionately headbutted you, or Jimin always hopped up on counters or Yoongi lapped from glasses instead of sipping, you just accepted it and stashed it away to google later- but this was a little more concerning. Did he not feel safe in his room? You’d tried to put him and Namjoon as far away from the felines as you could, but you also knew the cats weren’t thrilled about sharing their space. You hoped they hadn’t made him feel too unwelcome after you’d collapsed into bed.

“Is everything okay?” His ears twitch as the smell of your worry fills his nose. He leans forward and for a moment you think he’s gonna close the distance between you- but he pulls back.

“No,” he answers. You feel your heart sink. “I just...your room is closest to the front door.” You blink at him slowly, not following. You don’t know how his sight is in the dark, but he must see the confusion furrowing your brow,because he continues. “Your room is the only one on the first floor and it’s close to the living room and front door. We all sleep upstairs. If someone broke in, they’d get you first.” He tosses a finger down at the blankets. “I was sleeping here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Nobody’s gonna get me, Hoseok,” You soothe, trying to assuage his fears. “I’m nobody-”

“You don’t know that,” he argues back. “And you’re not ‘nobody’ to me. I waited my whole life for you. I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

You don’t know what to make of that. You’d known Hoseok had been trained specifically to protect the person he’d eventually be sent to, but you hadn’t expected him to be so adamant about it. After all Namjoon grew up in the same place- No. Your expression sours as the thought stops you. No he didn’t. The wolfdog hybrid had been locked away for most of his life and interaction with others had come only in the form of meal delivery. He wouldn’t have had the director’s lessons drilled into his head everyday in the same way Hope had.

Still, no one has expressed this level of care for you since your mom died. You’re not entirely sure you deserve it.

“I was gonna wake up before you did and go back to my room,” he mumbles, kicking gently at the blanket and not meeting your eyes. “I promise, I was. I didn’t expect you to be up this early.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, his ears drooping more and more the longer you look at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Hoseok,” You tell him and his ears perk up a little. It was true, he hadn’t. His actions were sweet, if a bit misguided but you were more worried about him than anything. “I don’t know what the director told you or what you’ve heard, but I promise there’s no one after me.” He frowns at that, lips twisting into a little pout. He goes to interject, but you speak again before he can. “If you’re worried about anything, just tell me okay? If there’s anything you need to do to make yourself feel more at ease here, just tell me.” You implore him softly.

Hoseok nods slowly and you see his tail give one small wag. You nod back, and turn to go, but his voice stops you. “I think it would help a lot if I could sleep down here.” Your brow furrows at that.

“This is the only bedroom on this floor, though?”

He whines and looks like he’s about to explain- but a soft voice purring in your ear cuts him off. “He could sleep on the couch,” Jimin supplies, his arms entwining around your middle as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “It’s quite comfortable...Y/N-ah, do you mind dogs on the furniture?” His tone is light, free of the haze of sleep and a little teasing. From the way Hoseok’s ears droop and the way his shoulders curve in, you could tell Jimin hadn’t crept down here for a bit of good-natured ribbing. Your scent sours as your expression does, irritation with the leopard hybrid pricking at you. He lets out a little disgruntled murr in protest as he noses at your neck, trying to get you to soften for him. You tilt your head away from him and disentangle yourself from his arms. It’s three in the morning, you have to cross the city to deal with the fallout from God only knows what, and your neck still aches from the bruise Yoongi had left on it. You have too much on your plate to deal with Jimin needling his new housemate.

“Leave him alone, Jimin,” You exhale, side-stepping the leopard hybrid and heading down the corridor for the door. “Hoseok, you can sleep where you want. I’ve gotta go.”

The doberman takes a step forward. “I’ll come with you-” the icy look Jimin shoots him has him slowing but it’s not until the leopard hybrid bares his teeth at him that he stalls entirely. The sound of his whimper has you whirling around, but when you do, you find Jimin looking at you, blasé and Hoseok eyeing him with uncertainty

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” you toss back over your shoulder as you slide your feet into a pair of shoes. “Please, just...if you can’t be friendly, just do your own thing ‘til I get back.” You lace up your sneakers as quickly as you can and duck out the door. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll call on the way back.” And you’re gone, leaving the leopard and the doberman in the dark.

You are not at all confident in their ability to maintain a truce while you’re gone. You’re almost certain that if you hadn’t shoved your way between Namjoon and Yoongi last night, they’d have come to blows right there in the lobby last night. You punch the button for the ground floor and slump back against the railing of the elevator, exhaustion settling heavy on you now that you were alone again. You’d known Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung weren’t thrilled about sharing their space, but you hadn’t expected this kind of fallout from bringing new hybrids home. You don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make things a little easier, but you want to. Sighing, you resign yourself to more research. You pull out your phone and start typing.

why are my hybrids freaking the fuck out

You backspace. Venting at google wasn’t going to help you figure out what the sharp looks Jimin kept throwing Hoseok while he thought your back was turned meant or why Yoongi had been so furious the other hybrids’ scent was on you.

why don’t my hybrids like each other

Just like all your other searches, this one turns up millions of results. You thumb over the links but none of them are helpful. They’re dealing with puppy hybrids bickering and cat hybrids hissing at each other. None of them cover cross-species beef. None of them deal with exotics. You sigh, lock your phone and tilt your head back to stare at the soft yellow lights in the elevator’s ceiling. You were out of your depth. You’d known that from the moment Mr. Seo turned you into an heiress with a wave of his fountain pen. You get the urge to run, that old niggling feeling that settled like a stone in your mind and made your palms itch.

It’s been years since you last felt the need to pull a disappearing act. You don’t think you’ve done it since the one year anniversary of your mom’s death. The foster home you’d been sent to was a shit show. You found out the woman in charge had been pocketing the money you gave her every month for your mother’s columbarium fees and her urn was in danger of being thrown out. You’d shoved everything you owned into your school bag and walked across the city to get her. When the police found you, you were striding down the side of the highway, her urn clutched to your chest, determined to go anywhere but there.

You hadn’t known where you were going then; you still didn’t now. All you’d had was the urge to flee and fire under your feet. All you’d had was a singular focus on the road ahead.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a soft ding, the automated voice letting you know you’ve reached the lobby. You step out and shuffle across it with your head down, careful to avoid eye contact with the receptionist watching you warily from behind her desk.

It’s a cold night. A blast of frigid air hits your face the second you’re out the door. You curse under your and fold your arms around yourself in a futile effort to keep warm. You should go back upstairs and get the coat Yoongi made you buy. You shift from one foot to the other, weighing your options- and decide against it. If the conversation you’d had with Hoseok was enough to wake Jimin and send him slinking toward you, you running in and out of the penthouse would almost certainly wake Yoongi up. Memories flash in your mind: his hands gripping your hips tight, his rough tongue laving over your neck, that self-satisfied smirk he’d let spread over his mouth. You pinch yourself, trying to stem the heat you can feel crawling out the neck of your sweatshirt. It had upset you, there was no denying that. The warm feeling that’d bubbled up in your stomach at being touched didn’t wash away the fact that him marking you had nothing to do with your friendship and everything to do with warding off the canine hybrids.

Yeah, you decide, quickening your pace down the ice-slicked sidewalk. You’d much rather face the cold than him.

You make quick work of the walk from Haneul Tower to the streets of the club district. It’s only two blocks up and one over, but by the time you get there, you feel like a giant icicle. You’re out of place in a sweatshirt and scuffed up sneakers among the glitz and glamor of the club-goers, but you don’t have time to deal with your imposter syndrome. You duck into the first taxi you find, pass the old man the address Officer Kwon had given you and settle back.

He complains nearly the entire time about how far out of the way you’re making him go. You apologize as much as you’re able and promise him return fair back to Gangnam if he waits for you. He huffs and puffs, but he still takes you. Forty minutes later, you’re standing on the sidewalk outside of Happy Tails Hybrid Clinic, rapping urgently at the glass. After two minutes that feel like twenty, someone finally answers you.

You think she’s in her late twenties but the dark circles under her eyes she keeps rubbing at make her look older. She’s dressed in the typical winter police uniform, minus her jacket. The pale blue sleeves of her dress shirt are rolled up above her elbows and are blotchy with pale red marks she’d tried to scrub out. Blood. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

She unlocks the door and pokes her headout. “Y/N L/N?” She asks, eyes narrowed against the glare of the street lamps.

“Yeah,” you answer, giving one short nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Officer Kwon; we spoke on the phone.” She opens the door for you fully, stepping back and ushering you in urgently. “I’ll be honest,” she says once you’re safely inside and the door is locked back tight again. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”

You frown at that. “Why wouldn’t I have shown?”

“Most of the time when hybrids run, it’s an abuse case.” She drops into one of the plastic chairs lining the waiting room. Her head falls back with a thunk against the yellow plaster. If it hurts, she shows no signs of it, just stares up at the fluorescent lights. You settle on the lip of the chair next to her, feeling awkward and anxious. “The rabbit broke into an Olive Young to steal antiseptic and bandages,” she supplies without you having to ask. “He said he did it for the deer. When he showed me he was…” Officer Kwon exhales sharply and tips forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blood.”

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” you insist softly. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” she answers, voice muffled against her palms. “I pulled your name and ID picture from the national database and the rabbit didn’t recognize you. Even if you didn’t do it, I didn’t think you’d wanna deal with it.”

Your anxiety spikes at her words. What had happened to the hybrids before she found them? Who’d want to hurt them that badly? Your mouth feels dry, but you force it to move. “Do you know who they were running from?”

Officer Kwon shakes her head and drags her hands down her face. She lets her arms fall to her knees as she hunches over in her chair, back bowed with exhaustion. “Whatever the rabbit knows, he’s not sharing,” she exhales. “-And the deer’s in no position to speak up. He’s been unconscious since I found him.” As if sensing you tense, she adds, “He’s on the table now. I think Dr. Cheon put him under sedation.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure if there’s anything you even can. You have a million questions buzzing around in your mind, but so heavy is the weight of them on your tongue that you can’t find the strength to ask a single one. You’re saved by the doctor coming out from the back.

The door right next to the counter that reads STAFF + PATIENTS ONLY swings open and a middle aged woman in cat print scrubs comes out, shoulders hunched in like she’s got the weight of the world on her back. You can’t blame her; she looks every bit as tired as you feel. She stops just short of you and Officer Kwon, peels off a pair of blue medical gloves, dyed sticky red, and tosses them into the garbage can behind the reception desk. “Well,” she huffs, dragging her fingers through the greying wisps of hair that’d escaped from her braid. “It’s done.”

“How is he?” The police officer asks before you can. Dr. Cheon grimaces and leans against the counter.

“If you hadn’t found him in time, it could’ve been much worse.” You think she’s trying to put you at ease, but you don’t want compromising optimism. You want the truth. “An hour or two later and we’d be dealing with a very different situation, medically.”

You swallow and force yourself to speak. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened?”

Dr. Cheon turns her attention to you and blinks slowly, like she’d just noticed you were there. “...this is the guardian?” The police officer nods. The doctor takes you in, eyes roving from the mess of your hair twisted into a bun atop your head, to the scuffed rubber toes of your sneakers. She’s judging you, you know, trying to find something that’d mark you as the reason for the pain and suffering of the hybrids she’d helped. She finds none. “It didn’t happen to them,” she sighs. “Someone did this to them on purpose, likely over the course of several hours.” She tugs the office chair out from behind the desk and sinks into it, her limbs going to jelly the second she’s seated.

“Jeongguk won’t tell me what happened, but I know the signs. Puncture wounds around the entirety of Seokjin’s ankle, remnants of both sedatives and epinephrine in both of their blood, what looks like a bullet graze wound on Jeongguk’s side and he’s got a broken arm,” she rattles off symptom after symptom, each of them making the knot in your belly wind tighter and tighter. “The worst of it is Seokjin’s head. Hairline fractures all along the top of his skull and lacerations on his pedicles. They took his antlers from him.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You knew there were people who hurt hybrids, just like there were people that hurt animals and other people. You just hadn’t expected to ever have to deal with the fallout of one such incident. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll survive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dr. Cheon allows. “But he’ll need to be monitored closely during these next few weeks. They were hunted. If they decide to come with you instead of going to the shelter with Officer Kwon, you’ll need to be cognisant of the fact that the trauma from that could manifest in unexpected ways.”

Hunted. They’d been hunted.

You knew hunting was illegal in South Korea, you had that little tidbit tucked away in the recesses of your grade school memory along with the list of provinces and their capitals and the names of all the sailor scouts. It’d been outlawed in the fifties with the rash of hybrid centered legislation after a hunter up in Chungcheongbuk-do had shot a black bear hybrid he’d mistaken for a real bear. It was determined that since humans couldn’t distinguish between regular animals and hybrids shifted down into animal form, hunting had to be outlawed to prevent any accidental killings.

“Were they shifted down?” You ask. “Did someone not realize-”

“No.” Dr. Cheon’s answer is swift and final. “They knew. This was a choice.” The disgust in her voice is palpable.

“There are places that...Some centers cater to people that want to hunt.” Officer Kwon cuts in. “They have hybrids as employees and they let people rent airsoft or paintball guns to come hunt them. It’s supposed to be more ethical than actual hunting. No matter how distasteful I might personally find it, if they have a permit, there’s not really much the police can do unless a law has been broken. ”

“And without any information on where they came from, we can’t prove that one has,” Dr. Cheon finishes. “The most I can do as a vet is submit a report to the police about a possible abuse case and hope it makes its way to the hybrid crimes unit.” You hear the words she doesn’t speak, the meaning behind them. There’s nothing more we can do. They’ll get away with it. This is the end of the line.

Dr. Cheon drops her palms against her knees and forces herself to stand “Jeongguk’s injuries should heal just fine outside of the clinic,” She sighs. “But Seokjin-” she clicks her tongue against her teeth and gives a single shake of her head. “Cervine hybrids don’t shed their antlers like real deer do. There’s no telling if his will grow back or what they’ll look like when they do. All we can do is keep the wounds clean and pray.”

You nod numbly. She gestures for you to follow her and you do, making your way around the reception desk and through the staff door with her.

It’s dim in the back. The overhead lights are off and your path ahead is illuminated only by what light spills over from the reception room and an exam room up ahead. There’s only four of them, but the door to this one is slightly ajar. “Wait here for a second,” Dr. Cheon instructs, slipping through the door and leaving you alone in the corridor. You can hear her speaking softly to someone inside and them answering in even quieter tones. You have to strain to pick up the edge of their voice and even then, you can’t understand what they’re saying. “Would you like her to come in here, or would you like her to stay outside?” You hear her ask. The response is too soft for you to catch but a second later the door swings open.

Dr. Cheon steps out and gestures for the shadowy figure behind her to follow. “It’s alright,” she assures them. “No one here is going to hurt you.” Slowly, they shuffle out from the back.

It’s Jeongguk. There’s no denying what he is, not with the black velvet ears you see poking up out of his mop of wavy, dark hair. They’re alert; they prick toward you when your breath hitches. His eyes are dark and wide and the tip of his nose twitches when he looks at you. You muster up a smile you hope is reassuring and this right foot taps once against the linoleum. Yes, he’s a rabbit- but he’s also fucking huge.

What little research you’d managed to do in between apologizing to your taxi driver and keeping an eye on the fare had been straightforward: rabbit hybrids were naturally timid, needed a lot of attention and were small. Most sources you’d checked seemed to concur that they very rarely cleared 5’5. Jeongguk is pushing 6 feet and he’s built like a professional athlete. You suppose that’s what happens when you’ve spent your whole life running for it.

He’s wearing a teeshirt that’s too tight on his chest, the logo of the Seoul police force stretched thin, and a pair of grey sweatpants that are too short for him, both obviously on loan from Officer Kwon. His feet are bare, but there are bandages wrapped around both of them. True to what Dr. Cheon told you, his arms in a cast and wrapped in a sling. There’s scrapes on his knuckles and bruises blooming on the right side of his face. He looks like he’s been through the wringer. Still, he doesn’t slouch or shrink before you.

“Jeongguk, this is the woman we talked about,” Dr. Cheon tells him. He nods, but doesn’t move his gaze from your face once. “You’ll be going home with her-”

“Only if he wants,” You interject and she nods in agreement, quickly adding that caveat in.

“-only if you want.” He nods again and swallows, his bare foot giving another little tap against the floor.

“What about Seokjin?” He asks you.

“If he wants to come too, he’s welcome to, but neither of you have to if you don’t want to.” There’s a little frown on his face as you answer and he finally looks away. You can’t help but think that’s a bad sign, that he thinks he and his friend would be safer in a shelter that they ever could be with you- but then he asks another question.

“Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?” You frown at that. Why was it that every hybrid in the city was suddenly so concerned with your marital status? Hoseok had asked you in the car last night and now Jeongguk seemed worried about it as well. Sensing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you live with any men?”

You wince. “Oh! Yeah, I live with five.” You see his expression darken as his ears sag. “They’re mostly predator-”

“If they’re hybrids, it’s fine.” He interjects, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “I can live with them.”

You relax too. From what you’d seen, most shelters weren’t nice places. They were overcrowded and underfunded. If the news was any indication, some of the worse ones got treated like grab bags by fighting rings, who’d shell out a couple thousand won for a canine hybrid and turn him into a prize fighter. You didn’t want that for them, not if you could provide an alternative.

But was it one though? He said he could live with them, but could they live with him? You think back to Yoongi and Namjoon snarling at each other last night, about Jimin’s little jabs at Hoseok. Yeah, you’d need to have another house meeting when you got home if this was ever going to work. Jeongguk had just been through hell and back; the last thing he needed was a territorial bobcat trying him.

“You can change your mind any time,” You tell him softly. “If you get there and feel like it’s not a good fit for you and Seokjin, you can go, okay?”

He dips his head. “Okay.”

“I think Seokjin can decide for himself.”

Your eyes rocket just over Jeongguk’s shoulder. There’s a man leaning heavily against the doorframe of the room the rabbit hybrid had come out of. He’s in a blue exam gown, his feet bare except for a plain white cast on his left leg. Every part of his head from his eyebrows up is bandaged, but you see soft tufts of red-brown hair poking out from between the layers. He looks human. You’d almost think he was if it weren’t for the oblong pupils in his hazel eyes and supple ears you see twitching as he observes you.

“What are you doing up?!” The alarm in Dr. Cheon’s voice is palpable. “Those sedatives should’ve kept you out ‘til morning.” She takes a step like she’s going to rush to his side- but stops short when he tenses and tilts his chin to his chest. Just for a second, it looked like he was preparing himself to square off against her- like he was brandishing something that wasn’t really there. His antlers, you think. He was trying to protect himself with his antlers.

Seokjin forces himself upright, his knees wobbling as he tries to stand on his own. He looks off-balance, and it’s not just because of the cast. He looks like he’s trying to figure out how to stand now that a piece of him is missing. His legs are trembling. “What can I say?” He huffs, sounding like he just ran a marathon. “I like to surprise people.” And then his legs buckle underneath him.

He hits the floor with a heavy thud. Jeongguk and Dr. Cheon rush to his side but he waves them off, eyes closed and brow knit in frustration. “I’m fine,” he insists, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to struggle back to his feet. “I’m fine, I just…I just need a moment-”

“You need bed rest.” Dr. Cheon goes to latch on to his arm to help him stand but Jeongguk catches her wrist, gives a single shake of his head and she drops it back to her side.

Seokjin manages to get himself back standing, but he sways precariously. “If this were a hunt, I’d already be dead.” He swallows and inhales shakily through his nose, doing his best not to gulp down air. “You should have left me, Jeongguk. You know the rules. One falls, but the herd rises-”

“The herd is gone, Seokjin.” The bitterness in the younger hybrid’s voice takes you aback. It’s a black wave, threatening to drown all four of you right there in the corridor. Seokjin stares at him, his jaw slack and pretty brown eyes wide.

“What do you-”

“They’re gone.” The rabbit hybrid’s bruised fingers clench into a fist and he fixes his glare on the tile. “All of them.”

Silence rings in the corridor. Dr. Cheon’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, but she doesn’t press for details and neither do you. She’d been right. They’d been hunted. The thought of it turns your stomach. Seokjin closes his eyes, long lashes fanning out over his cheeks as a muscle tenses in his jaw. He’s thinking. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is settled on you. Your heart jumps as your nerves get the better of you, and one of his ears flicks back.

“You’re taking us?” He asks. You swallow.

“Only if you want me to.” An unreadable look passes between him and Jeongguk, the younger’s nose twitching.

“Speaking strictly as your doctor,” Dr. Cheon speaks up, interrupting the hybrids’ telepathy. “You need time to rest and recuperate-”

“Is there any special reason I have to rest and recuperate here?” He asks. You can’t help but notice the slight challenge in his voice. The corner of the doctor’s mouth twitches.

“No, I suppose not,” she acquiesces. She doesn’t look particularly pleased about the prospect of letting her patient go when he was still in the danger zone, but if the look of determination in Seokjin’s eyes is any indication, she doesn’t have much choice.

“Then, we’ll go.” The tone of his voice is final, letting everyone present know that he’s done talking about it.

That's the last that’s said to you or anyone else about it. Jeongguk falls in line with his orders easily and so doesDr. Cheon after she manages to get him to accept a pair of crutches she’d foisted upon him and passes off a prescription for pain meds and both of their check up schedules to you.

“It’s important that they don’t miss these dates,” she tells you at the reception counter, tapping the sheath of papers with one clean, blunted nail. “A single one of them. And make sure they don’t shift ‘til I’ve given them the all clear. Hybrid injuries are tricky, but they’re aggravated by the shift.” You nod, hanging onto every word she says, forcing your tired brain to take mental notes. “And-” she cuts her eyes at Jeongguk and Jin, both of whom are lingering in various extremes in the room, the deer hybrid sitting ramrod straight in a chair in the far right corner and the rabbit pretending to browse informational pamphlets. Once Dr. Cheon’s deemed it safe, she leans closer to you across the counter and gestures for you to come closer as well. You blink in confusion but acquiesce. “It’s important that your current hybrids be made to feel secure with the new additions coming.” She tells you, voice gravely serious. “Do you know about scenting order?”

After a beat, you nod. “Yeah. I mean, I read about it online but-”

Dr. Cheon tuts her tongue against the back of her teeth. “Online sources are shaky at best, wildly inaccurate at worst- particularly forums.” Your stomach flips. Had all your research been for nothing? “What did they tell you?”

“Um…” your brain boots up slowly as you try to recall the hours of research you’d done. “Uh, dominant hybrid first, then in age order?”

The corner of Dr. Cheon’s mouth quirks in an odd way. “That’s certainly a simplified way of looking at it.”

You wince.

“Hybrid group dynamics can be…” She searches for the right word. “Messy to start out with, especially with hybrids who don’t know each other who find themselves with an inexperienced handler. They’re all going to be trying to figure out where they fit in the pecking order as well as how their relationship with you works. There’s likely to be a lot of posturing, not just in order to impress you, but to solidify their place as well.” Dr. Cheon drags a hand down over her face. “Seven male hybrids under one roof...It’d be a miracle if no one’s missing fingers by the time the week’s out.”

“Is there any way I can stop them from being mean to each other?”

“I’m not a behaviorist,” The doctor sighs. “But I’d suggest you start with a conversation.”

You slide into the back of the taxi a little after 5:30 AM and pull out your phone. You’d promised to call on the way back and you don’t want a repeat of what’d happened the last time you’d forgotten. You scroll down your contacts, thumb hovering over Yoongi’s name and you hesitate. You remember warm lips, a rough tongue. You remember hands gripping your hips tight and a possessive growl in your ear. You press Taehyung’s name instead.

The tiger hybrid picks up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice is slow and scratchy, still thick with sleep.

“Hey, it’s Y/N-” Almost immediately a happy rumbling starts from his end of the line. You can hear the sleepy joy in it and it makes your face warm.”A-and I just wanted to let you guys know I’m on the way home.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, a low, musical sound. “Where’d you go?”

You bite your lip as nerves spark up in you. Well, all things considered, it was probably better for him to find out now rather than later. “The last two hybrids my uncle got…they were hurt and I had to come get them.”

The line is quiet for a moment and you gnaw at the bottom of your lip. Finally, Taehyung speaks. “Ah.” That’s all he says. Somehow, that’s worse than whatever Yoongi growling at the new hybrids or Jimin icing them out.

“I’ll be home in about another forty-five minutes, okay? Could you have everyone get together in the living room for me? We need to have a conversation.”

“Yeah, I can.”

You wince. There’s an almost imperceptible change in his voice. You swallow. “Taehyung, are you upset?”

He hums again like he’s considering it. “No,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t think i am. At least, not with you.”

That does little to allay your fears, but you force yourself to sound upbeat when you tell him, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you when you get home.”

The line clicks off and you drop your head against the headrest. A conversation. It should be a simple thing, but you spend the entirety of your taxi ride back to Gangnam with your stomach in knots. If the thought of introducing your two (very injured, very vulnerable) new hybrids to a house full of predators wasn’t enough, you have to try to allay Jeongguk’s inexplicable fear of the taxi driver. The middle aged man isn’t thrilled about ferrying hybrids across the city anyway, but between Seokjin swooning and Jeongguk thumping his foot so hard the whole car rattles whenever the man so much as looks in his rearview mirror, he’s almost ready to put all three of you out on the side of the highway. You have to promise him a 50,000 won tip just to get him to relent. He rolls up the partition, but even that doesn’t put Jeongguk at ease.

The rabbit hybrid is curled up in the corner of the backseat, his back against the door, his injured arm cradled close and his knees pulled up to his chin. His ears are on high alert, twitching at every passing car or stray siren. His whole body is tensed up like there’s a current running through it, like if he lets himself relax for a second, he’ll disperse into nothing. He’s glaring daggers at the partition, but you know he can’t see the driver. The car rolls over a speed bump a bit too fast and he flinches, hand shooting out for the door handle.

You watch him, concern coloring your scent. It’s not your place to ask, you know, and you feel almost stupid doing it, but the words slip out of their own accord. “Are you okay?” It’s a ridiculous question. You can still see the bruises blooming on his cheekbone, see the angry red of his split lip in the stray light of street lamps. His dark eyes flick toward you, round nose twitching.

“How do you know he’s taking us somewhere safe?” His gaze shifts from you, to the partition, to Seokjin, dozing fitfully on your otherside. The deer hybrid had finally surrendered to his pain meds not a second after you’d helped buckle him in. He’d been out cold before the driver had pulled away from the curb.

“Because that’s what I paid him to do,” you tell him, truthfully. You’d never given much thought to how much trust you placed in taxi and bus drivers to not kidnap you before. You certainly had to now, especially when Jeongguk seemed hyperaware of the fact that you’d entrusted all of your lives to a stranger. The rabbit hybrid swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his throat. He gives a little shake of his head.

“He could take your money and still take us somewhere bad. He could take us up into the mountains and Seokjin and I wouldn’t be able to do anything because we’re hurt and-”

“That’s not going to happen, Jeongguk,” you say in as soothing a voice as you can manage to muster up. “It’s really unlikely that that’ll happen, but even if it did, I’d do my best to protect you.”

He snorts, ears tilting back. They brush the roof of the car as they do and he shrinks himself, shoulders hunching forward. “What can you do?” His tone is derisive. “You’re only human. You’re not as fast as us or as strong-”

“I’d try,” you insist, some strong, unnameable emotion tightening your chest at the thought of them in danger. “If if came down to it, I’d still try to protect the pair of you-”

“You don’t even know me.” Jeongguk’s voice is edging somewhere between disgust and disbelief. You look away from him then and at your hands, gripping your knees.

“I don’t,” you agree easily. “But I’d like to. Even if I don’t- even if I didn’t, people should still help each other when they can. We owe each other that much.” The taxi is quiet for a moment, only the sound of tires rushing over the slick pavement and other cars zooming by filling the empty air between the two of you. Finally, the rabbit hybrid exhales shakily.

“I’m not a person.” He sounds resigned to that fact, like he’s accepted a burden far too heavy for him. “I’m not even an animal. I’m a-”

“Just because you aren’t human…” you start off hesitantly, very much aware that you might be crossing several invisible lines. “...doesn’t mean you’re not a person. You have your own thoughts and feelings and emotions. You deserve to have them heard. I know I’m not as fast as you or as strong, but the least I can do is listen to you, right?” The car is silent again. You’re too nervous to look at Jeongguk, worried that you’d gone too far- but then there’s a warm weight against your side. It starts slow at first, just your shoulders brushing against each other, but before you know it, Jeongguk’s leaning his whole body against yours. He’s slumped over with his head tucked beneath your chin like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. “Jeongguk-”

“I’m afraid.” He admits in a whisper, like it’s the worst thing in the world. “Everything in me tells me to run all the time, but I can’t anymore.” His ears droop and his pretty dark eyes slip shut. This close, you can hear his heart beating at breakneck speed in his chest, feel how he shudders with every shaky inhale. “I’m so tired of running.” He’s terrified. You wouldn’t have guessed from his posture. Maybe the reason he held himself so tight was to stop himself from shaking apart.

You watch in surprise as the rabbit hybrid links his fingers with yours and drops your hand on top of his head, right between his velvety ears. “Help me like this.” You’re frozen, unsure what to do with a six foot tall man practically crawling into your sweatshirt with you. Was this really okay? He’d just been through something traumatic, the details of which you know nothing about. You hadn’t thought he’d want anyone to touch him, much less you, a virtual stranger. You don’t know what to do. The car jerks to a quick stop and the taxi driver leans on his horn, curses jaywalkers. Jeongguk’s grip on you tightens and he flinches so hard you’re surprised he didn’t knock his head into your teeth. He exhales shakily, tilts his head up and brushes his nose along the underside of your jaw. “Please,” he asks in a voice so small you know it’s killing him. “Just ‘til we get there, please just let me be weak.”

That breaks something inside you. Despite how awkward you might feel, he’s sure to be feeling worse. You wrap your arms fully around him, hesitant until you feel him go lax in your arms. You slowly stroke the back of his head and he buries his face in your clavicle, his eyes squeezed shut. “We’re almost there,” you assure him gently as he fists his good hand in the fabric of your sweatshirt. “You’re almost home.”

By the time the three of you arrive back at Haneul tower, the sky is lightening in the east and the first wave of office workers are making their way from your building into the streets of Gangnam. It’s not even 6 AM yet, but the city is stirring.

It takes you a good ten minutes to rouse both the boys and get them out of the taxi. After you’d let Jeongguk cling to you, the rabbit hybrid had fallen asleep quickly, the exhaustion from his turbulent day finally catching up to him. Even in sleep he was latched on to you, a small crease between his brows and his nose wrinkled up. Seokjin hadn’t fared much better. The cocktail of meds Dr. Cheon had given him had rendered him dead to the world for the entirety of the drive back. Even now you were having trouble rousing him.

“Seokjin…” You shake the sleeping stag’s shoulders but the only response you get is a slight hitch in his snoring. “Seokjin, please wake up, we have to go…” You can practically feel the glare the taxi driver is giving you in his rearview mirror. Yeah, the meter is still running, but you’ve taken up enough of his time as it is. “Seokjin, come on…” Jeongguk is standing behind you, staring bleary-eyed up at the apartment building, his free hand fisted in the fabric of your sweatshirt. If he’s cold in his thin tee-shirt and bare feet, he makes no mention of it.

Without warning, the taxi driver leans on the horn. Seokjin’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, fear making his body tight. Jeongguk jerks so violently you think he’s going to rip a hole in your sweatshirt. You stumble back a few paces, trying to steady the rabbit and stop the pair of you from tumbling into the street. When you manage to right yourself, you slam a palm against the roof of the car and glare in the window at the driver. “Yo, what the fuck?”

The man glares back at you and waves you off. “I don’t have all day!” He shouts. “Get your animal and get out!”

You want to argue with him, you want to make him apologize- but the sight of Seokjin disoriented and afraid stops you. He’s looking at you with hazy eyes, his whole body stiff and his chest heaving. It’s for his sake alone that you hold your tongue. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on, buddy.” You say. “I got you.” He looks from your face to your hand and finally, slowly, places his own in it. His fingers are long and elegant and his hand dwarfs your’s. You tug him from the backseat and he leans heavily on you, hopping awkwardly to avoid walking on his broken foot. You pass him his crutches and he takes them, wobbling awkwardly as he tries to set himself to rights. “Can you stand?” You ask him. He nods and starts limping for the glass doors of Haneul Tower. He’s doing his best to look strong. His back is straight and his head is high, but you don’t miss the tremble in his fingers or the way he winces whenever the wind blows over the top of his head. You shove some bills at the taxi driver with a final, disapproving look, usher Jeongguk up onto the sidewalk and head inside after Seokjin.

The moment the three of you breach the double doors, Jeongguk drops his hand from your sweatshirt. His eyes rove over the glass and granite, round nose twitching at all the scents and his ears standing at attention on top of his head. He pauses, a little furrow between his brows. You’re halfway to the elevators, hovering a foot behind Seokjin in case he falls, before you notice the rabbit hybrid isn’t following you.

You cast a look back over his shoulder and find him gawking up at the hanging lights, mouth slightly ajar and starry-eyed. The corner of your mouth twitches. He’s cute, you decide. The thought leaves you almost instantly when you see Mr. Park powerwalking over to him, a sunny smile on his face. Jeongguk takes notice of him only a split second after you do and his eyes wide. You see him tense up, watch the fingers on his uninjured hand curl into a ball.

“You need to get him,” Seokjin says, sounding like he’s out of breath. You turn your attention back to the deer hybrid. He’s leaning heavily on his crutches and his face is pale. “You need to get him,” he repeats, nodding at Jeongguk. “That man gets any closer and Jeongguk will kick him.”

You whip back around. Mr. Park is closing the distance between them, seemingly unconcerned by the look of distress on the rabbit hybrids face or how his foot seems to be tapping a mile a minute.

“Excuse me!” The older man says, reaching out to put a hand on the rabbit hybrid’s shoulder. “Where’s your-”

“Mr. Park!” You practically sprint over as fast as you can, sliding between the receptionist and the hybrid just as he’d started winding his leg back. Mr. Park blinks, surprised to find you so suddenly in front of him. You offer him a tight smile. “He’s with me.”

“Oh! Ms. L/N, I apologize. He didn’t have a collar, so I assumed he was a stray.” The statement pricks at you, but you know he means nothing by it, so you try to stamp down your irritation. “It’s rare but we do occasionally have them come in in the hope someone will take them in.” He clucks his tongue against his teeth. “Such a shame really.”

You feel Jeongguk’s hand fist in the fabric of your sweatshirt. He wants to go. You nod emphatically at what Mr. Park says, already heading back to the elevators. “Yeah, totally,” you agree, shuffling the rabbit hybrid in front of you and putting some distance between him and the elderly man. “Well, have a good morning! I’ll see you later!”

“Ms. L/N, I actually need to speak with you-”

You wave him off and duck into the elevator Seokjin had called in your brief absence. “We’ll talk later!” You tell him, pressing the close door buttons as quickly as you can and willing them to shut before he can catch up.

“But it’s about your-!”

The doors click shut and you’re blessed with silence. You exhale in a short puff, press the button for the penthouse and slump against the cool metal wall, finally letting yourself relax for a moment. The elevator starts rolling and Jeongguk flinches beside you. He duck his head like he’s going to crouch down- but he stops himself, grips the railing instead.

“It’s okay,” You soothe. “It’s just-”

“I’m fine,” he insists, forcing himself to stand up straight and release the death grip he has on your sweatshirt. “I’m fine; my time’s up.”

It’s just like he’d said in the car. Just ‘til we get there, let me be weak.

The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence outside of the automated bell dinging as you pass each new floor and Seokjin panting quietly. He’s in a bad way. He’ll need another dose of pain meds soon. You arrive on the top floor, punching in the key code and pull the door open. “Let me get Seokjin settled, Jeongguk and I-” You run directly into someone.

Their arms wrap around you, covered in a brown cable knit sweater. It’s soft and they smell of vanilla. They press their cheek against the top of your head and exhale, a little rumble kicking up in their chest. “You’re back.” Taehyung.

“Hey, buddy.” You pat him on the back gently and peer around him. Yoongi and Jimin are both sprawled on the couch, legs kicked out so there isn’t room for anyone else to join them. Namjoon is sitting on the stairs shooting daggers at the back of Yoongi’s head and his arms crossed over his chest.Hoseok is lingering in the no man’s land between the living room and kitchen looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else. The atmosphere is tense to say the least.

Taehyung dips his head down. “I got them, like you said,” he whispers, lips brushing against the tip of your ear and his breath warm. You have fight off a little shiver, but if he notices it, he doesn’t react. “I don’t think Hyung and Jiminie like the others very much.”

You give a little nod of acknowledgement. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “We all just need to get to know each other a little better.”

Seokjin hobbles through the door, past the tiger hybrid and drops himself onto a stool on the kitchen with a heavy exhale. “Well, I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes at most before these meds catch a second wind, so let’s get this over with.” He’s doing his best to sound cavalier but he’s pallid. You don’t miss the thin sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. “Seokjin. Twenty-eight. Red stag.”

All the other hybrids are staring at him in a mix of confusion, irritation and, in some cases, open dislike. It seems like they don’t know what to make of him. It’s Yoongi who speaks first. “If you’re a stag,” he drawls and you already feel dread welling up in you at what you know is going to follow. “Where are your antlers?”

Seokjin fixes him with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I only put them on for special occasions.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands together trying to diffuse the tension you can feel building. “New house rule: let’s not ask each other about injuries past or present unless we’re asking how to help.” Yoongi looks miffed, but he settles. It’s weird. Normally, you’d have expected him to say something snarky back to you. He’s trying not to push his luck after last night, you think. “Yoongi, why don’t you go next?”

His ears flick in annoyance, but he does as you ask. “I’m Yoongi, I’m twenty-seven and I’m a bobcat-”

“I’m Jimin,” his junior pipes up before he’s hardly had time to finish. “I’m an amur leopard and I came here with Yoongi-hyung and Tae. We’ve been with Y/N the longest.” He says it like it’s an important piece of information for everyone to know.

Beside you, Taehyung lifts one hand, palm up. “Hi,” he says calmly. “I’m Taehyung. I like the color purple.” Everyone watches him to see what else he’s going to say, but the tiger hybrid is finished. You give him a little nudge with your shoulder.

“Tell them how old you are and what your hybrid is,” you suggest.

“Oh,” he lifts his eyebrows like the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m twenty-four and I’m a tiger.” Suddenly remembering something, he tilts his head forward in a little bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” A sour look takes over Yoongi’s face and Jimin rolls his eyes, gestures for the youngest of their group to come sit beside him.

Hoseok is the next one to pipe up. “I’m Hoseok!” He seems to perk up a little when you turn your eyes to him, his docked tail giving as much of a wag as it’s able. “I’m a Doberman, I’m twenty-six and Joonie and I came from the same pla-”

“My name is Namjoon.” The wolfdog cuts off the other canine with a growl. All the wind goes out of Hoseok’s sails and you don’t miss the way Seokjin freezes up at the dark sound, suddenly alert. You weren’t sure if prey hybrids still avoided predator hybrids like their animal counterparts did, but you’d need to learn and fast. Namjoon leans back on the stairs, his jaw clenched. “I’m the same age as him-” he jerks his head at the Doberman hybrid. “-so I guess I’m twenty-six too.” He makes no mention of his hybrid and you don’t press. You don’t know how sensitive a subject it is for him yet, but you don’t want to find out the hard way.

Hoseok looks back at you and cocks his head to the side, his gaze fixed on a spot just over your shoulder. “Who’s he?”

Five pairs of eyes follow his. You turn around. Outside the apartment, still in the corridor, is Jeongguk, his back pressed against the wall and his eyes wide as he surveys the mixed bag of hybrids spread out in front of you. Your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Do you wanna come in?”

His gaze flicks from you, to the cats, then to Hoseok and finally to Namjoon. It’s only when he sees the wolfdog hybrid that he moves from the wall. He takes halting, jittery steps one after the other until he’s planted by your side, his eyes on his bare feet. Every move he makes makes it look like he’s fighting against his own body, forcing himself to tamp down his instinct and move.

“Can you introduce yourself?” You ask him softly. “Or do you want me to?”

His good hand clenches into a fist and forces himself to look up. He meets each of the other hybrid’s eyes evenly. “My name is Jeongguk.” When he speaks, there’s no shake in his voice. “I’m twenty-three years old. I came from the same place as Seokjin but we don’t know each other that well. I’m a Flemish Giant Rabbit.” So that was why he was so big. You’d never seen a Flemish Giant in real life, but you’d happened across the odd youtube video of them once or twice in your suggestions. They were huge.

With introductions out of the way, you feel a little tension melt out of your shoulders. That was the biggest hurdle. Maybe now that they all at least knew each other, they’d be a little more open to being around each other. You let out a little exhale. “And I’m Y/N. I’m also twenty-three and this is my uncle’s apartment. He’s the only that bought all of you but I only found out you were coming a little over a week ago, so please forgive me for being unprepared.” You rub your palms against your eyes, trying to combat the exhaustion you can feel crawling over you. “I don’t know that much about hybrids, but I’m trying to learn. A lot of things you’re gonna have to help me with. I’m not expecting you guys to be pets or best friends or anything, but if we could all try to get along I’d appreciate it.” You offer all seven them a weary smile. “Thanks for getting up early to do this, guys, I appreciate it. If there’s anything you need, literally anything, please don’t be scared to ask-”

“Um, Y/N?” Hoseok is looking at you like he’s been dying to say something for the past five minutes. You turn your attention to him and squint as you try to focus on what he’s saying. “I did a sweep of the apartment earlier-” That was concerning. You make a mental note to tell him he doesn’t have to do security sweeps anymore. “-and there’s only four bedrooms.”

You blink at him in confusion.

“There’s eight of us.”

Oh. Oh. You drag your hands down over your face. You hadn’t accounted for lack of space being an issue. When you first moved in, Oliver’s penthouse seemed like it went on forever. “Okay,” you start, crunching some quick numbers. “Some of us are gonna have to double up.” There’s a disgruntled mrow from the couch and without looking, you know it’s Jimin. “Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung are already sharing so they’re exempt, but Seokjin needs his own room- at least until he recovers.”

“That’s fine by me,” the stag chimes in. “But that leaves Jeongguk without a-”

“Hyung, can I stay with you?” The room goes quiet.

“Seokjin really needs his own room-” You pull your face out of your hands to address the rabbit hybrid, but he isn’t looking at the stag. His eyes are fixed on Namjoon who’s looking at him in a mix of confusion and alarm. The wolfdog looks from the rabbit to you.

“I saw a camp bed out in the greenhouse while you were showing us around last night.” He says, standing to go. “I’ll sleep out there.”

“Namjoon, you don’t have to sleep outside-”

“I like it out there.” He calls back over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs. “I can see the sky.” Then he’s gone and the six of you are left.

“Well,” Jimin purrs, rising and crossing the living room to you. “Best of luck.” He rubs his cheek against yours, folding you into a loose hug. You think he’s about to pull away, but he whispers in your ear, “If you want to share with us, you know where we sleep.” And then he’s gone, sauntering up the stairs with Taehyung and Yoongi in tow. The bobcat tosses a look at you, but you look away quickly, missing the way his ears sage when you do.

Now, the only ones left are you, Jeongguk, Hoseok and Seokjin who’s rapidly fading. “I’ll take the couch,” you volunteer. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world, but right now, the stark white cushions look like heaven to your sleep-deprived mind. “Seokjin can have my room-”

“He can have mine,” Hoseok interjects. “And, if it’s okay, could I stay with you?” There’s a light whine on the end of his words and you don’t miss the way his ears prick up in anticipation of your answer. “It’s what I wanted to ask you earlier.”

Oh. When Jimin interrupted him, that’s what he’d been trying to say: he wanted to sleep in your room to be closer to you. To protect you.

“Yeah,” you agree easily. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Sharing beds wasn’t a big deal for you. You’d grown up in a flat with your mom and had shared a bed with her til she’d been taken from you. Then in foster homes with too many kids and not enough resources, you’d had to double- and sometimes even triple- up. It was a matter of convenience and space.

Hoseok’s tail gives a little wag and he nods, happy with your decision.

“Great!” Seokjin cheers weakly. “Now can someone please help me lie down.”

It’s Hoseok that helps the stag hybrid up the stairs and into bed. He’s stronger than you and taller, so it only makes sense. You show Jeongguk to his new room and stay with him for a few minutes while he feels it out, making sure it’s safe. It’s only once he’s sequestered himself under the covers and dismissed you that you leave, closing the door quietly behind you as the rabbit hybrid settles down for some much needed sleep. You turn to head back for the stairs- but you find Yoongi at the other end of the corridor, staring you down. You stare back. He swallows.

“Can we talk?” He asks, his voice quieter than you ever remember hearing it.

You give a little nod. “Yeah,” you assent. “We need to.”

He meets you halfway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers and his gaze anywhere but on your face. The seconds stretch out and you exhale, closing your eyes. “Yoongi, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjects. “About what happened in the elevator. It was disrespectful and immature. I won’t do it again.”

You balk at him. You’d honestly expected him to tell you you were being childish for reacting so strongly to it when you’d told him he could mark you whenever he was ready. But he hadn’t. He shuffles back a few steps, his head still low.

“Well, that was all I wanted to say to you, so-”

“Do you understand?” You ask him. He stops short. “Do you understand why I was upset?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you see a little furrow between his gray eyebrows. “Because I marked you.”

“No,” you insist, emphatically. “I was upset because it didn’t feel like you were doing it for me.” He does look up at you then, yellow eyes unreadable. “It didn’t feel like you were marking me because we’re friends or you wanted me to be a part of your group. It felt like you were doing it to show off in front of Namjoon and Hoseok.” You swallow. “And that hurt my feelings.” It feels good to say. It feels good to talk about.

He lets out a little chirp of distress. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. “I just-” He rakes a hand back through his hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, I just felt like if I didn’t do something right then you’d get bored of me and send me away. I thought you’d replace me with them.”

Your heart twists. You know the feeling more intimately than you’d like to admit. You reach out, hesitantly and squeeze Yoongi’s arm. “Yoongi, I’m not gonna send you away. Ever. It’s important to me that you know that. Unless you wanna go, you can stay. There’s room enough for all of you.”

“No there’s not, that’s why we’re sharing rooms,” he drawls.

You roll your eyes and let out a little chuckle. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The corner of his mouth curls up at the playful insult. After a moment, he speaks. “I don’t, for the record,” he says. “Wanna go, I mean.” He stares down into your face, yellow eyes intense. The seconds drag on and something between the two of you grows tight. He leans down, face nuzzling the soft spot between your ear and your jaw. He huffs. “Bunny scented you,” he mutters, tail flicking in annoyance, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re relieved.

“He was afraid in the car,” you answer softly. “I think it helped.” Your hands slip from his arms around his back and he purrs. It’s the first time you’ve heard him make that sound. It sends warm vibrations through your whole body and you giggle. Yoongi smiles against your skin and your heart leaps. He’s never smiled around you before. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You know it’s there. “Do you want to try again?”

Yoongi exhales, his breath warm on your neck. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to the side for him. “You can.”

This time is different, you can feel that from the onset. His fingers wrap gently around your hips and he nuzzles into your skin. He nips lightly at the skin below your ear, the corner of your jaw, all down the column of your neck until he reaches the spot where it joins your shoulder. He hums, wraps his arms around you fully and pulls you flush against the hard line of his body. Your breath hatches and you can practically hear your heart thudding traitorously in your chest.

It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself as he laves his rough tongue against your feverish skin. It’s not a big deal; marking isn’t sexual. This isn’t a big deal, there’s no need to be nervous or get- the points of his teeth scrape over the mark before he laps at again and you have to bite back a whimper. Your knees feel a little weak- that is, until Yoongi slots his thigh between them, keeping you up while he finishes his work. Your hands ball up into fists in the fabric of his t shirt and you grit your teeth together with the effort of keeping quiet. He pulls off your neck with a wet pop and you swear you’re imagining it when he presses a final kiss to his mark. He noses your ear, still purring and you think he’s gonna mark you more- but then his warmth is gone and his standing before you, eyes a little hazier but no worse for wear.

He reaches up and flicks you in the forehead. You grumble at him, covering the spot up with your hands before he can do it again. A lazy smirk spreads out on his face. “Welcome to the family,” he drawls. Then he’s turning on his heel and heading back to his shared bedroom. “Don’t wipe this one off this time, okay?”

You nod mutely after him as he disappears, your hand cupping your mark. “What was that?” You wonder. You descend the stairs in a daze, your mind whirling. None of your research had told you creating a mark would be like that. You’d thought it was a quick thing and Yoongi had just been showboating for the canines. Even in the videos you watched, the hybrid had leaned in close to the human, given then a few quick swipes with their tongue and moved on. Then again, those hybrids had all been domesticated dog or cat breeds. “Are exotics different?” You muse, turning the handle to your bedroom- and promptly tripping over someone.

This time, you don’t go all the way down. You make it halfway before Hoseok catches you. “Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N!” The dog hybrid whines, fussing over you as he sets you back to rights. “I’ll do better about staying out of your way, I promise-”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, trying to stop him from fretting. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” You survey the floor of your bedroom. It seemed like in his security sweep earlier, Hoseok had found the linen cabinet and made use of the spare blankets. His pillow and a comforter are set up in a little pallet on the floor in front of your door. It seems he’d been putting the final touches on it when you’d stumbled over him. “Hoseok…” you start slowly. The Doberman looks at you, ears pricked up. “Hoseok, I wasn’t expecting you to sleep on the floor.”

He cocks his head to the side, doglike even in his confusion. “Then where…?”

“The bed is big enough,” you say, gesturing to the queen sized bed dominating the center of the room. “I don’t mind sharing if you’re comfortable with it.”

His adam’s apple bob’s in his throat as he swallows, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Yeah, I’m comfortable with it.”

You nod and pat him on the shoulder, passing him as you head to bed. “Come on, then.” You collapse onto your bed face-first and slip back under the covers with a groan. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap before I’ve gotta get up and deal with stuff…”

The room is quiet, but somewhere in it, you can hear Hoseok shuffling around. “Maybe I should check to make sure everything is safe one more time?”

You exhale, your eyes slipping shut. “Hoseok…”

“Did you lock the front door after you came in? I think the rabbit...Jeongguk was the last one in? I don’t remember him locking-”

“Hope, bed. Now.” He doesn’t say anything else, but a few seconds later, you feel the far side of the bed dip with his weight. You sigh as he shifts to get under the blankets and you snuggle down further into your pillow. “Sleep well, Hobi.”

He mumbles something under his breath about security being a serious issue, but you don’t catch it. You’re already halfway to dreamland.

[tamayosclinic]

Hellooo!! I’m so excited to see another kny blog show up!!

Could I ask for something with injured Inosuke falling for a girl who works at one of the manors with the wisteria crest, and she helps as he rests on getting better from the severe injuries he’d taken?

Strength | Inosuke x F!Reader who works in a wisteria house

Warning(s): Cursing

Author's Note(s): Happy Halloween everyone! Sorry for my inactivity the past two days. Working and college don't mix really well. Anyways, this was a fun request for me to simply because I can see Inosuke being the type of patient to not listen and just wreak havoc even when he's injured. I know he's pretty chill when he's at the Butterfly estate but I think Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Shinobu being there has a lot to do with it. It was fun to imagine what he'd be like if it was just himself in a wisteria house without a strong person he respects to keep him in line. I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy :D

The Great Lord Inosuke getting injured? If you so much as hinted to Inosuke that he wasn’t invincible, he’d insult your insolence and do whatever it took to prove his point. The night at Mt. Natagumo changed his perspective on himself. Turns out there are other people much stronger than him, and he kept that lesson in the back of his mind even after his ego was back to normal.

His invincibility on the other hand? It was questionable.

Inosuke had his arm crushed during a solo mission that significantly impaired the strength of his attacks, but he stubbornly refused to back down. By the end of the fight, he was littered with more bodily injuries and falling in and out of consciousness as some Kakushi tended to him.

“The butterfly estate is too far! He won’t make it there.” One of the Kakushi said.

“There’s a wisteria house down the mountain. Let’s take him there fast!” Another Kakushi ordered. Inosuke was about to protest but fell unconscious before he could utter a word.

When Inosuke woke up, he was met with a wooden ceiling. He had a neck brace on that prevented him from fully turning his head, but he could hear a faint feminine hum coming from the far corner of the room. Using his spatial awareness, he confirmed a girl’s presence. He hissed in pain as he sat up, broken ribs prodding at his guts. A waver in his total concentration constant added to the fatigue he gained just from sitting up.

“Oh, you’re awake.” The girl, (Y/n), walked up to him. “Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

Inosuke scrunched his face, offended by the last question. “The Great Lord Inosuke feels no pain- OW!”

(Y/n) had knocked on Inosuke’s casted arm. “No pain huh.” She sneered which bruised Inosuke’s ego. “The Great Lord Inosuke will need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

“I don’t take orders from underlings!” Inosuke flailed around in a tantrum even with his neck brace and encased arm somewhat restricting his movement. (Y/n) attempted to restrain him further without causing more harm to his already

“Stop that! You’ll only make your injuries worse!”

“The Great Lord Inosuke doesn’t-” (Y/n) had chopped Inosuke’s neck, causing him to fall unconscious. She quickly assessed his injuries to make sure he didn’t strain them then redressed his bandages before exiting the room.

“This is gonna be a long two months.” She sighed, rubbing her temples as she continued her work around the wisteria house.

…

(Y/n) initially thought she was wrong when she said the next two months would be long but once Inosuke’s neck brace was removed all hell broke loose. It seems Inosuke made it his life goal to do the opposite of whatever people told him.

She could not take her eyes off him even for one moment lest he stirs up trouble in the wisteria house even though he was still recovering. He’d rather train and try to fight anyone he deemed an opponent, including but not limited to other demon slayers recuperating at the wisteria house.

“Argh! Where is he this time?” (Y/n) grumbled as she walked in with a tray of food. She did a double-take of the room as if expecting Inosuke to appear out of thin air. It yielded no result unsurprisingly, so she opted to just leave the tray on the bedside counter and go on with the rest of her day when down the hall…

“The fuck is wrong with you, weird-ass boar! You shouldn’t be eating your superior’s food, moron!”

“If you think you’re above me then fight me to prove it, dry eyes!” The color drained from (Y/n)’s face upon recognizing the two arguers as Inosuke and the worst possible demon slayer to provoke.

Inosuke you idiot! The world seemed to go still with only (Y/n) running to where the argument ensued but in a fraction of a second, the stillness was broken by Inosuke being rammed into the wall, leaving a crater in his wake. Sanemi came stomping out of the room where the boy had been catapulted from but luckily (Y/n) had reached them in time to step in between the two and prostrated herself before the Hashira.

“My apologies, Shinazugawa-sama! This slayer’s a feral one. I’ll have your food replaced immediately!” She gulped at the Hashira’s intimidating presence which seemed to suffocate the air around her.

“Fine. Now get the idiot out of my sight!” Sanemi made (Y/n) jump when he shut the shoji shut with such force that it rattled. (Y/n) couldn’t say Inosuke deserved what happened to him but the shellshocked expression he had as (Y/n) escorted his limp body back to his room was priceless.

…

(Y/n) found herself worrying too much. Ever since the incident with Sanemi, Inosuke had become uncharacteristically quiet. He was expected to fully recover in the next week and had more leeway to train or simply walk around compared to his arrival, yet the boy spent most of his time sulking in his room.

If (Y/n) had a say in giving out a diagnosis, she’d say Inosuke had a bruised ego and she had seen how that mindset could lead to serious injury out in the field. She had to bring up his spirits before he’s cleared to leave.

“Inosuke. It’s a lovely day outside and I think the training grounds are calling your name.” She cheered only getting a ‘hmph’ in response. She sighed. “Come on Inosuke I’m sure once you get back into the rhythm it will be easier to keep going.”

“What’s the point?” Inosuke asked as he sunk further under the blanket.

“The point is to get you back up and fighting. There are many strong demons out there waiting to challenge you, the Great Lord Inosuke.” (Y/n) tried to hype him up.

“Someone even stronger than me will deal with them. Like Mix Matched Guy and Dry Eyes. I’m not the strongest in the world.” That confirmed (Y/n)’s suspicion. Inosuke had the same reality check so soon after Mt. Natagumo and that was the biggest blow to his pride.

(Y/n) pat his head tenderly, noting how it was the first time she didn’t lay hands on him to restrain him. “Yes, there are other strongest people in many things outside of demon slaying. It’s a fact of life we all must accept. But the more you train and fight, the stronger you will become. That’s how the rank-and-file works in the corps. Is the Great Lord Inosuke really gonna quit? Or is he gonna train until he becomes a Hashira? I’m sure it’ll be a walk in the park for you.”

Inosuke was unresponsive causing (Y/n) to huff. “Okay, I guess it’s too hard.” She sneered and grinned when she saw irked marks flying out of Inosuke’s mask.

“Hard?! Nothing is hard for the Great Lord Inosuke! I’ll show you!” He threw off the covers and stomped out of the house to train much to (Y/n)’s glee.

…

Inosuke was having a crisis right now. He had just been given the all-clear from the doctor and expected to resume missions. His belligerent side was yearning to finally head out for battle, but another unfamiliar feeling dreaded the thought of leaving her. (Y/n). The servant who tended to him since day one. He admits he caused her more trouble than he should have and even though he made her patience run dry she took great care of him. Just the thought of her gave him butterflies in his stomach.

Inosuke wasn’t so stupid to be oblivious about what that feeling meant. He may be a wild man but even animals could feel love. Zenitsu and Tanjiro’s descriptions of love also matched with what he was experiencing right now. Inosuke is in love with (Y/n) and he was not going to keep it to himself.

“(Y/n)!” He scurried to where (Y/n) was hanging the laundry.

“Oh, Inosuke please wait. I’ll have your mask ready for you in a couple more hours.” (Y/n) said, having mistaken Inosuke’s zestfulness as impatience at not having his mask ready.

“I’m not here for that!”

“Then wha-”

“I will be leaving tomorrow, and I just wanted to say… I LOVE YOU (Y/N)!” Inosuke hollered louder than necessary.

(Y/n), though taken aback at his volume, clutched her chest as her heart did several flips in a millisecond. She couldn’t control the heat radiating off her face. “R-Really?”

“Yes! Do I have to say it again? I LOVE YOU!” Inosuke picked up (Y/n) and spun her around eliciting laughter from the girl who wrapped her arms around his shoulder.

“I love you too Inosuke! Put me down for a minute please.” Inosuke complied and (Y/n) held her pinky out guiding him to wrap his own pinky around hers. “Let’s promise to see each other outside of work more often. This is a pinky promise which makes it extra special.”

For a moment, the blurred image of a woman flashed through Inosuke’s mind. The same woman he saw in his near-death experience in Mt. Natagumo. The image vanished as he blinked so he thought nothing about it. He just wanted to be in this moment with (Y/n). “It’s a promise.”

[henrysteelsmurryme]

thank you, thank you (~3.1k words)

WARNINGS: smut, fellatio, more fellatio

: :

“My friends and I are thinking of going on a vacation.”

Harry looks at her. “During spring break? I thought we were all going down to Florida.”

She nods. “No, we still are. My friends just want to go somewhere for a week, or even a weekend. We’ll just skip our classes.” Harry gives her a look and she rolls her eyes. “Fuck off, I’m a second semester senior. You would know how that goes.”

He sighs. “Where are you thinking?”

She shrugs. “Maybe Florida again, but we’d go to Fort Lauderdale or something.”

He wrinkles his nose. “I went down there once during college. It was basically a giant frat party for a week straight.”

Eileen nods enthusiastically, a large smile on her face. “Doesn’t it sound like fun?”

“No.”

“Whatever.” She leans back in her seat. “We’re gonna decide soon.”

“Well, let me know, yeah?”

She smirks at him. “You gonna fund the whole trip?”

He shrugs. “If you want me to, honey. I don’t mind.”

She freezes. “Are you serious? I was just joking. We all have enough money to go.”

He nods. “I know, but I also don’t mind paying for it. I mean, it won’t affect my bank account as much as it’ll affect yours.”

She rolls her eyes.

A few days later, they're sat at the kitchen island. Harry is working on his laptop, and Eileen is shopping for swimsuits on hers.

“Everything’s so fucking expensive," she complains. "We found a condo. It’s in a sketchy area, but it’s close to the beach and the town.”

Harry sighs heavily. “Let me see.”

Eileen shows him the information on her laptop. Harry doesn’t look impressed.

He starts to shake his head. “No. No. You’re not staying there.” He stands up and heads to his office.

“Why not?” Eileen huffs and follows him. “Harry,” she whines. “Everything is so expensive there. We can’t afford anything nicer.”

Harry sits down in his leather chair, behind his huge desk. “Which is why I’m getting you guys a house.”

She freezes in the middle of his office. “A house? Right on the beach?”

Harry nods, typing quickly on his computer. “In an area where your chances of being murdered are nearly zero percent. I am not about to go down to Fort Lauderdale to identify my dead girlfriend because her and her friends couldn’t afford a nicer place.”

Eileen smiles brightly, strutting around the desk and standing behind him. She rests her hands on his shoulders, watching his computer as he looks for places. “I like that one.”

He snorts. “Because it’s pink. It only has two bedrooms.”

“So? We’ll share beds.”

“It has one bathroom.”

Eileen doesn’t respond for a moment. “Anyways, I like that one.”

The exterior is a pretty sky blue, with white shutters and pink flowers lining the house. Harry checks the features, and it includes four bedrooms and three baths.

“That sounds more like it.”

“And it’s right on the beach,” Harry points at the screen, “and, like, a ten minute walk from the town. It’s a gated community, a family community, so,” he turns and glares up at her, “no partying at the house. I’m not going down to bail you out of jail either.”

She sighs lightly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Okay, okay, jeez.” She wraps her arms loosely around her neck, hugging him. “Thank you, darling. I owe you one.”

Harry snorts, hitting Confirm on the screen.

She dips her head, her hands sliding down his chest as she kisses his neck. “You’re so good to me.”

Harry hums. “It’s because I love you, honey.”

Eileen tries to press her lips harder against his skin, but her large smile prevents her. “I love you more, darling,” she murmurs into his ear. Her hand slides further down, cupping his bulge. Harry’s breath hitches, and his head falls back on her shoulder. “Thank you so much.” Her hand squeezes.

Harry spins around just as she yanks the chair and she climbs into his lap, straddling his thighs. She cups his jaw and pulls him in for a bruising kiss. Her hand work quickly at undoing his pants, pulling his cock out.

Harry moans into her mouth, his hands sliding all over his body, like he can’t choose where to put them.

Eileen strokes him slowly, rubbing her thumb in little circles around his slit. Harry’s head falls back, exposing his neck to her. She dips down and sucks underneath his ear, quickening her pace.

Harry’s breathing heavily when he lifts his head back up. His hand rises up to the back of her head and he wraps her hair around his fist, pulling her head up. He looks at her for a moment, with her wet lips parted and her eyes blown out. He pulls her in for a kiss, licking into her mouth once before pulling away. He asks lowly, “Is this what you call a proper thank you?” He tuts. “I deserve more than your hand. On your knees, honey.”

Eileen’s jaw drops around a smile. Her tongue prods her cheek as she slowly descends onto the floor in front of him. She almost whines at the loss of friction between her legs. She was grinding against his thigh before, and now her center throbs for some contact, but is only met with air.

She thinks the quicker she gets him to come, the quicker she can come, so she goes to work immediately, wrapping her lips around his cock and sinking down. One hand fondles his balls, while the other works the lower half of his cock. She tries to make it as wet for him as possible, because he likes it like that, and especially so when there’s spit and cum dripping out of her mouth.

She pulls off and, while still jacking him off, says, “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

“Honey,” Harry groans. His hands are in her hair and they try to pull her mouth back over him, but she refuses. “You nearly throw up every time I do it.”

“I know,” she whines. “But it fits the mood.”

Harry lets out a breathless laugh, saying to himself, “Fits the mood. All right.” He sits up, gazing down at her softly. He cups her cheek, rubbing his thumb along the skin. “Tap out when it’s too much, okay?”

She nods quickly, sitting back on her heels and opening her mouth wide. Harry curses at the sight, his thumb slipping into her mouth. He whimpers when her eyes flutter shut and she sucks softly, hollowing her cheeks out.

He thrusts his thumb in and out a few times before he pulls it out. His hands grabs her hair as he guides her down on her cock. He lets out a strangled groan when he gently guides her down further, until his tip hits the back of her throat. 

He pulls her off and asks, “All right?”

She nods, and she wraps her lips around his cock again. She tries to relax her throat, and stays surprisingly still as Harry gently thrusts into her mouth. Her own moans and whimpers are muffled by his cock. She aches for some friction on her clit.

She only has to tap his thigh once before he’s yanking her off. She gasps for breath, tearing leaking out of her eyes, spit and precum connecting her mouth to the tip of his cock.

“Oh, god,” she says hoarsely, leaning forward and resting her head on his thigh, trying to catch her breath.

Harry leans down to the side and grabs the trash can. “Are you gonna throw up?”

She shakes her head against his thigh, her shoulders and back still heaving.

Harry shakes his head and smiles, laughing a bit. “That’s the best you’ve ever done.”

“I’m not done yet,” she says stubbornly, pouting up at him.

He nods, stroking her cheek. “Of course not, honey. Just take a breather.”

She decides to ignore his patronizing tone, and takes his advice. She focuses on breathing deeply, filling her lungs with the oxygen she was depraved from only minutes ago.

When she hears a groan, she whips her head up to find Harry’s hand lazily stroking himself, his head tipped back toward the ceiling. “Hey,” she says sharply, swatting his hand away and replacing it with her own. “That’s my job.”

Harry only sighs, and then he stands up. Eileen’s mouth opens as she gazes up at him. Something about him dressed in an expensive suit, standing tall over her does something to her. She reaches a hand down to her clit and she grinds against it, whimpering. “Fuck, this is so hot.”

Harry just hums, and his fingers weave into her hair, holding the strands back and she leans in and presses an open-mouth kiss to his shaft. She travels up his length, and spends a few extra moments on the tip, circling his head with her tongue.

“Fuck, honey, that’s so good.” Harry waits patiently, and when she leans back, one hand releases her hair to grip his cock. His other hand tightens in her hair, holding her in place as he slowly feeds his cock into her mouth. Eileen stretches her mouth and licks the underside, humming when Harry pushes in deeper.

Her own hands slide up the backs of his thighs and back down, then sliding up the fronts and holding the sides.

Carefully, Harry thrusts into her mouth, gaging her reaction. She really is hell bent on him coming down her throat. She usually would have given up ten minutes ago.

“Look so pretty, Eileen,” he mumbles, his words slurring together. He’s close. “So pretty with your lips around my cock.” His head drops back. “You’re taking me so well, honey.” He looks back down at her when he starts to thrust harder.

He grins proudly when she just takes it, looking up at him with glistening eyes. “Look at you,” he coos, brushing a tear off her cheek. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you? I love you so much.”

Eileen can feel his thighs trembling, and can hear his breath growing shakier. She can’t see much with his head tilted up to the ceiling, but she can see his mouth is open, little pants falling out of those pretty lips.

She pinches his thigh and he looks back down, never averting his eyes from hers. “Gonna come, honey. Gonna make me come. You’re such a good girl. You’re doing so well.”

He thrusts erratically into her mouth, whimpering and moaning. “I–I’m coming, Eileen. Eileen, Ei–“ He throws his head back and shouts, his hips stilling, his cock deep in her throat.

Eileen sucks down the last drop of come, then carefully pulls off. She tries to catch her breath. Pride bubbles in her stomach at the accomplishment of having him fuck her throat until he comes. She says in-between breaths, “I’m gonna…” She waves a hand. “Work on my…gag reflex.”

He nods, collapsing to the floor with her. He pulls her in for a kiss. Both of them are out of breath, so the kiss is a little weak, a little slow, but he licks into her mouth and he sucks on her tongue until he feels like he could pass out.

“Now, what’s my thank you going to be?”

Harry pulls back, giving her a look. “What? You don’t get a thank you for a thank you.”

Eileen’s jaw drops. “That was the best I’ve ever done! I deserve some fellatio for that!”

Harry’s jaw clenches and he glares at her. “For the last fucking time, fellatio is sucking dick!”

“No, it’s not!” she replies slowly.

Harry huffs. “The word, is cunnilingus. You get fucking cunnilingus.”

Eileen wrinkles her nose. “That sounds like an STD.”

Harry sighs again, and then he pushes Eileen onto her back. Arousal and anticipation flutter in her stomach, but then Harry stands up and walks past her.

“Hey! Come back and fellate me!”

“You want fellatio so bad?” He looks over his shoulder and gives her a look that’s hard to read; Eileen thinks it’s challenging. “I’ll go get the strap."

A few minutes later, the rolls are swapped: Eileen is sat in the chair, and Harry is on his knees between her legs.

“You ever done this before, darling?”

“Of course I have, Eileen,” he replies snappily. “I’m not a virgin.”

Eileen gasps loudly. “Are you fucking kidding me? So you lied about your anal virginity!”

Harry takes a deep breath. “No, Eileen. I’ve sucked dick, but I’ve never had a dick up my ass before you.”

She gasps again. It’s irritating, at this point. “When?!”

“In college, honey. Didn’t you experiment a little bit?”

His tone is mocking and patronizing. Eileen doesn’t like it. “I don’t like your tone. Shut the fuck up and fellate me.”

Harry huffs, then he dips down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the purple strap on. Then, he lifts his eyes and they meet with Eileen’s. She sucks in a shaky breath, and can feel her underwear pool at the sight.

Without breaking eye contact, Harry moves up the plastic cock, then licks a fat stripe over the tip. Eileen whimpers.

The corners of his lips quirk up. “Getting a little flustered…honey?”

Eileen huffs, and she reaches down to grab his hair at the back of his head. “You’re talking too much. It’s annoying.” The last thing she wants to do is hurt him, so she doesn’t shove him down. But he obediently opens his mouth wider and sinks down just a little bit, taking the tip into his mouth. His cheeks hollow as he sucks, lifting his head up and licking another fat stripe on the tip.

His eyes are glossed over, his cheeks are blushing a beautiful red, and he already looks so out of it.

Eileen’s head falls back on the chair. “I think you did a little more than experiment, darling.”

Harry smirks and hums, before sinking down on the purple cock.

God, each lick and suck goes straight to Eileen’s clit. She swears she can feel his mouth. Her underwear is soaking at this point. She wonders if she could come from this.

When Harry gags around the cock as he pushes himself down, only to leave two inches of the purple cock uncovered, Eileen thinks anything is possible.

She gasps, running her fingers through his hair to push it off his forehead. “Fuck, Harry. Oh, my God.” Her hips subconsciously roll towards his mouth, and Harry stops bobbing his head and lets her for a few moments.

Then he pulls off. “You gonna fuck my mouth then, or what?”

Eileen whimpers again at the sound of his voice. It’s hoarse, deeper than ever, and it’s so fucking hot. She wants to wreck his pretty throat.

Her hand moves to his cheek, gently cupping it before she starts to carefully thrust her hips up. After a few thrusts, Harry gets impatient.

He pulls off the toy. “I’m not a fucking virgin, Eileen. Fuck, my, mouth.”

God, he’s so fucking irritating. Eileen opens her eyes and gives the ceiling a deadpanned look before her hand returns to his hair. Her other hand grabs his chin and forces his mouth open. She tilts his head back, and stands up.

Harry understands why she looked so fucked out when he was above her. The look she’s giving him now isn’t gentle, nor is it sweet. She looks properly irritated. A spark of arousal erupts in his stomach and travels up his spine. He wants her to wreck his throat.

He sticks his tongue flat out just in time for her to ram the purple cock into his mouth. His hands reach up and grip her thighs, the skin bulging around his right grip.

He makes a little gagging noise every time her cock hits the back of his throat. It goes straight to Eileen’s clit.

God, she’s for sure going to come like this. Harry’s just taking it, letting her grab his hair and hold him in place as she uses him like a toy.

She lets out a moan when Harry’s eyes connect with hers. They’re teary and a little red, but he doesn’t tap out, even when the tears leak down his cheeks.

“So beautiful, Harry, fuck.” She throws her head back, thrusting erratically into his mouth.

When he lets out a particularly loud whine, she quickly looks down to find his eyes fluttering shut. She notices his body moving, and realizes he’s pulled his cock back out and is fucking into his hand.

Her hand grabs his chin again and she yanks him off her cock. A trail of spit connects his gaping mouth to the purple strap on. He gasps for breath, looking up at Eileen with wet eyes and an even wetter mouth.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” she asks lowly, her grip tightening around his chin.

“Honey. Honey, please–“

His voice. It’s wrecked. It cracks as he begs for her approval.

Eileen aggressively swipes her thumb along his mouth. His tongue peeks out and gives it a sensual lick. His lips wrap around it for a small, sucking kiss.

“No.”

As usual, Eileen gets tired of the dominate character. It’s hot–so fucking hot when she takes control like this, but every single time, the act disappears before they even finish.

She whimpers, cupping his cheeks with both hands. Her thighs tremble. “Harry, darling, I love you so much. You’re gonna make me come, I swear.” She lets out another whimper. “Oh, God. Oh, Harry. I think I’m gonna–”

Eileen almost collapses, but just barely manages to hold herself up as she comes. Harry doesn’t even notice, too busy gagging around the purple cock as he comes all over his pants.

When Eileen pulls the cock out of his mouth, Harry follows, leaning forward and pressing his face against her thigh. Even as he’s gasping for breath, he lifts his head and sucks a kiss into the meaty part of her thigh.

“Did you just–”

“Did you seriously–”

Eileen is silent for a moment, then, “You came?”

Harry lifts his head and glares up at her. “Don’t act like I’m the only one.” To prove his point, he reaches up into her underwear and slides a single finger into her wet pussy. It clenches around his digit, and he pulls his finger out to shove it into his mouth.

“Yeah, but–you weren’t even touching yourself!”

He sends her another glare. “And I was actually sucking on your fucking clit. You came from me sucking on the strap on.”

She sputters for a moment. “It–it. It’s the context!”

[hanji-is-life]

Hi it’s that anon that said Bull Bakugou lives in my head tent free 🙈 I’m back LOL and I can confirm I am not a minor (3rd year of college rn) Is it okay if I request bull Bakugou with a breeding kink?? (feel free to sprinkle in as much dirty talking as you want cause I just know he would be the type to say the nastiest things 🤤)

ahh thank you for confirming your age lmao

-

He always seems to catch you when you’re distracted. You hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting. You should’ve, with the way the other bulls steered clear from his stable.

But no. Not today. You were so distracted, going over your list of all the shit you had piled up to tend to around the farm after being gone for a good two weeks. The friend you had overlooking your farm had done a fairly good job, but nothing was ever up to your standards when it came to your precious hybrids.

So distracted, you didn’t even hear Bakugo’s stable door closing behind you the moment you entered it.

You should’ve known something was up when the bull didn’t come greet you the moment you got back, or say anything when you entered the barn. You figured he was still in a mood and pouting from you leaving for two weeks and not taking him with you.

No, you don’t notice until you’re bent over cleaning up hay, and feel something big and warm pressing between your ass cheeks. The denim shorts you had on did nothing to hide what exactly was on your ass.

You slowly turn around, eyes wide and meet hooded red ones. He’s huffing, chest falling rapidly as Bakugou shamelessly starts to rut his hard cock in between your cheeks.

“Bakugou, what the hell are you—”

“You left me, knowing my rut was coming soon. I think you owe me, heifer.”

He doesn’t even give you any time to adjust or get your bearings as he rips your shorts clean from your body. You squeak, slap your hands back to get his off of you, but your arms are pinned to the base of your back in only a second. He prepares your already wet cunt as he growls down at you,

“I don’t know who the fuck you think are for leaving me, knowing I’m about to fucking have my rut, but you’ve got another thing coming, princess.”

“I had to use my fucking hand all day yesterday, because someone wanted to abandon me for useless bullshit.”

“You won’t be able to get away when I fuck my kids into you,”

He’s plunging his heavy cock inside of your still tight walls after a few minutes of your whining to fill you up. He starts rough and fast, growling and chuffing the entire time, hooves digging into the hay on the ground. You can hear the bell around his neck ringing with every rough snap as you’re forced to endure the angry, rutting bulls cock.

“Gonna have all my fucking calf’s. None of those other heifers are worthy enough to carry m’fucking kids.”

“You’re the only one I’ll breed. The only good fucking pussy around here.”

“Never letting you leave for that long again. I’ll keep fucking my calf’s into you until you get the fucking message, you dumb fucking slut.”

Yeah, a lot of long business trips are canceled after you were knotted 6 times in under three hours...