#n one day he gets like startled and turns into a fox in front of bdubs and the jig is up

[oonajaeadira]

That Awoooo Inside You, Pt. 3

Fandom: The Wild Robot / Fink the Fox

Pairing: Fink <3s OFC fox Farrah

Rating: G all the way, don’t worry. This is keeping in the world and disgustingly wholesome. Prolly too clean for tumbles 😆

Warnings: None. It’s for cuteness and for heart.

Summary: After the events of The Wild Robot, a new resident joins the island. She’s a little withdrawn and Fink finds out why. It's not what he expected.

A/N: The end of this chapter was partly inspired by @grogusmum. She knows what she did. And if she doesn't, it's illustrated afterward.

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my very very fluffy--in all senses of the word--tale. I had to. I just had to.

PART 1, PART 2

“Hey-ey-ey,Greedy!” Fink laughed as he called out to Farrah, her tail and back feet hanging out of the hollow of a dead tree trunk. “Just because I gave you the first turn doesn’t mean you get to eat it all! I want some! My turn! My turn!”

Farrah backed out of the hollow and down the grey stump, honey sticking to her whiskers and snowy ear tips, her front paws covered in the golden goo. “Sorry! I got carried away! I’ve never had anything like it. There’s plenty left…I think…”

Distracted by the remnants on her paws, the white fox began to clean them up, eyes wide, still in awe of the sweetness Fink had introduced her to. It was almost a contest as to what was going to win his attention–the honey hive, or Farrah’s dainty licking–but like any fox, food won out and he was shoulders deep in the tree trunk before his heart had any say in the matter.

Once he was gorged on the stuff, Fink skittered his way out from the hollow and joined Farrah in the grass. It was her turn to wait while he cleaned his own paws, but being familiar with honey, he was far less of a mess than she had been. One, two, licks of his paws and then–

He hadn’t meant to do it, but he was a fox. He did foxy things. And that meant not thinking when it came to food. It wasn’t until Farrah was ducking away from him, putting some distance between them, that he realized what he’d done.

He’d instinctually gone to lick the honey off her ears. 

Now she crouched, cowered, alert, her bright eyes–one light, one dark–wide and peering back at him over her brush of a tail, and he could sense the spring that was building in her legs, her heart running as hard as her feet wanted to–

He was suddenly almost as scared as she was. “Sorry! I just– I only– your ears…” The only thing he could think to do was back up. Sit down. Her eyes were still moons in the white sky of her face.

After a couple of months on the island, she was still skittish, still easy to startle. Fink had done everything to make her feel at home, done everything he could do to show her she was under no threat here. She was quick to play with the raccoons and had even fallen asleep on Thorn’s big fat bear belly once or twice on a chilly evening.

But somehow, Fink still spooked her. Maybe he just saw it more since they spent so much time together. Or maybe he was too quick, too rough. Or maybe….

…maybe she didn’t want him to get close in that way.

He could feel his shoulders hunching, his ears drooping, and with them, he sensed a slackening of Farrah’s tension.

“Sorry, Fink, you just… I…” Stepping slowly, she stopped halfway to him and sat, nervous, avoiding his eye. “Guess I’m just a mess. I didn’t realize I still had hummy on my ears.”

Normally he would have laughed. They would have laughed together. “Honey.”

“Heh. Honey.”  A little breeze shifted the grass and Farrah made an attempt at a playful sneeze, but it was half-hearted. “You can…clean my ears if you want to…”

“It’s okay,” he smiled, just as half-heartedly. “You wanna go down to the shore and take a swim? I don’t want to be sticky all day. Ants.”

“Sure.”

She led the way now, more confident in her path about the island and he followed, although feeling as if he was dragging his heart behind him.

He remembered how much it hurt when Brightbill flew away for the winter, but it was a good hurt, because they would see each other again.

And he remembered how much it hurt when Roz left the island. That one hurt in a different way because he knew he may never see her again, but he had good memories, and he knew that he had friends and a good life because of what she did for them all.

But this was a hurt he didn’t recognize. It was like the hurt he used to feel when nobody wanted him around, the hurt he learned to ignore, the hurt he used in order to become clever and figure out the very best ways to get exactly what he wanted. Similar, but not the same. 

Because that pain was borne out of the rejection of everyone. Like sleeping on a bed of pinecones.

This ache could not be ignored or pushed away.

Being rejected by one special someone in particular, he was learning, was much worse, like sleeping on one particularly spiky pinecone.

With one, big jagged spike.

Pressing right against his heart.

“Look! Your favorite!” Farrah came trotting out of the water to him where he sat on shore, feebly scrubbing his paws in a tidepool, and laid a huge clam at his feet, its bulk almost too big for her smaller jaw. He nodded, but kept scrubbing. A crab scuttled past as a larger wave lazily slapped the rocks behind her, the water dull under a hazy, late spring sky. “Fink?”

The thought just fell out of his mouth. “You really never thought about finding a…a mate?”

Farrah blinked, eyes wide again. This time he could tell it wasn’t with the instinct to flee, but he could hear her heart racing all the same. “I… no. Where I’m from, nobody would take me.”

He wanted to run away, scared of what he was feeling, scared of what he might say, what she might say, what might happen to their friendship, but couldn’t stop himself. “But, you’re not there anymore. You’re here. And things are different here. Everyone’s a little different here and…and…just because you… your…” He couldn’t keep his tail from twitching, his claws making little arpeggios in the sand, his tongue babbling away without him, “I like your fur. It’s not practical but it’s beautiful, it catches the sun. It’s a part of you and I like you so you don’t have to worry about being different or the runt of the litter here. I think it’s a miracle you’ve made it, it means you’ve had to be strong and smart and you’re–”

“My fur?” A tilt of Farrah’s head showed initial confusion. “What’s wrong with my fur?” And then just the hint of her ears leaning back, a paw pushing at the sand as if bracing for a fight, her tail curling around herself again. “Who said I was a runt? I’ll have you know I was the second biggest kit of my litter.”

Now it was Fink’s turn to blink in surprise. “But.. no one said, it’s just… you are on the small side so I just thought you might–”

“Wait. Fink,” she calmed then, a realization breaking over her, her spine straightening, ears perking up. It was one of the rare moments they’d had together where he was able to look her in the eye and she didn’t back down, where suddenly she was allowing him in and he felt suddenly hopeful. Did she just hear what he said? Was she just realizing how he felt? Did she like him too? He swallowed hard, anticipating what she would say next.

It was much different than what he expected.

“Have you…never met a winter fox?”

The words pushed through him, trying to find a place to settle into meaning. “Winter? Fox?”

“Yeah. A snowy fox. Like me.” When he could only stare blankly, she smiled sadly. “Oh, Fink. There are different kinds of foxes where I’m from! I’m a winter fox. We’re all white like this and smaller than the forest foxes. We don’t usually mix with the forest foxes because…” here she looked down at her little white paws making a delicate triangle in the sand, “forrest foxes hunt winter foxes. They’re brutal predators. They..they eat us.”

Whaaaaaat??? “WOWWWUH,” Fink breathed, aghast at this breaking news, happy for her to have escaped that peril. “They sound like huge jerks. You’re better off here without ‘em.”

She lifted her head then and a light huff fell out of her, it was nervous and hesitant, and thinking she was laughing, he was momentarily proud of lightening her mood. Until she said, “Fink…you’re a forest fox.”

There would be few more profound moments in Fink’s life than standing on a shifting shore, learning that he had yet another fate in the world, an alternate place where he could have lived a completely different life, one that could be seen by someone other than himself. 

He sat in shock and looked at her. She was so small, so vulnerable. He himself was half again her size. She was fast, but he was faster and could easily outrun her and catch her if he wanted to. She would often bring him shellfish to open for her and then watch in something like awe as he crushed it easily in his jaws.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t awe. Perhaps it was horror.

He was starting to understand that his heart could break twice in one lifetime. Maybe twice in one day.

He needed time to stand still for a minute so he could gather his thoughts, fix this somehow, assure her that he wasn’t like the foxes she’d known, make her see, he wasn’t like the forest foxes that she’d known, he would never, if only the waves would stop crashing and the geese would stop honking–

Honking! The geese! The geese were returning! Brightbill!

Fink was up and turning on the spot, watching the incoming flock, but also agitated by the interruption, unable to stop himself. “Farrah, I… can you… can you hold that thought? I’m sorry, I just–” And without waiting for her, he ran. 

He couldn’t remember being faster, needing to run faster, faster, his blood rushing in his ears. The flock would land just down the shore near by and he found a spot close enough to the treeline so as not to spook the ones that didn’t know him, but still out on shore enough to be seen. And then he danced. 

He couldn’t help himself. Bounding in a circle, paws tap tapping the wet sand, he yelped like a pup in with its tail caught, and sure enough, an orange-tufted bird broke from the group and came straight for him, dive-bombing him out of the sky, goose and fox colliding in a poof of feathers and fur and rolling and laughter as Brightbill made a triumphant return to the island.

“Hey, buddy! You came back!”

The goose laughed. “It’s spring. Where else would I go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You could fly anywhere. I’m sure there are tons of islands better than this one.”

“Yeah, but none of them have a Fink.”

Fink grinned, the familiar fondness for his friend doing some soothing work on his aching heart. “How was the trip?”

“Long. Who’s that?” Brightbill tipped his beak to the treeline, and Fink followed his gaze to the flash of white ducking behind a tree.

“Oh. She’s new. Farrah! Hey!” he called to her and her little face appeared around the trunk. “Brightbill’s home! Come meet the kid!” Trotting toward them, she looked warily side to side at the arriving population on the shore, and he lowered his voice to give the goose advice he couldn’t yet accept himself, “She washed up half-drowned a couple of months ago. Still kinda shy. Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Brightbill turned to the crowd and honked, calling to a large, long-necked and ruffle-feathered gander who was chatting up a gaggle of ladies. The gander immediately turned and closed the distance, winging over to their little family group and settling next to them, much more gently than his mass would have led anyone to suppose. “This is my…ah… my nesting partner, Crusher.”

“Fink, yes?” Crusher honked, husky and low. “Charmed.”

“He’s joining us from another flock this year.”

Crusher chuckled and ribbed Brighbill. “Might stay forever at this rate.”

The smaller goose couldn’t help but blush. “You mind if he stays in the hut with me?”

Fink smiled, a rush of happiness for his little fledgling–all grown up–tempered only by the awkwardness every parent feels when they bring their sweetheart to visit. “Absolutely! You can have the best bed in the place.”

“What?” Brightbill flinched. “Your bed? Are you sure you’re Fink?”

Fink shrugged and leveled his shoulders, a smug smile tugging at his mouth. “What can I say? I’m a great guy. Fantastically generous. Full of surprises.”

“That last part’s true for sure.” Brightbill turned to Farrah. “I assume you’re responsible for this show-off’s drastic change in behavior?”

“Hey!” Fink protested, but Farrah laughed her wondrous, loud laugh and introductions and welcomes were made. He watched her as she warmed to his adopted family and before long they were trotting back to the hut, many of their friends there to meet them, having heard the flock arriving from the south.

The rest of the day had a general family reunion atmosphere. Thorn bumbled off into the trees and came back with an entire wild raspberry bush he’d yanked out of the ground, heavy with a spring crop. The raccoons brought up snails from the woods and clams from the beach. Pinktail brought in this season’s club of little rascals who all got a fast and low ride on Crusher’s back over the surrounding treetops. Before long, the fireflies were coming out, lighting up the grasses in the clearing around the hut and Thorn had started a warm fire inside.

It was there that Fink was listening intently to Crusher’s tale of home, the shoreline where he grew up. Since meeting Farrah, Fink had become increasingly interested in learning how different and yet the same so many other places were. It was like he learned something new about the world every day.

Like the fact that there were foxes in the world that were even bigger jerks than he was.

Or than he used to be.

He scanned the hut–quieter now as many of the young animals were nodding off and cuddling with their mamas who in turn were engaged in low, pleasant conversation by the light of the fire. At first he thought Farrah might have left, the crowd too much for her, but then he caught the moonlight glow of her fur through the doorway out in the clearing, Brightbill at her side. They were deep in conversation–Brightbill doing most of the talking and Farrah watching him intently–and Fink felt a little contented spark of loving happiness as he watched them bond.

After a while, Brightbill waddled into the hut toward Fink’s precious, beloved, grassy nest, drowsy and sighing. “It’s been a day. Did you really mean it? Can we bed down here?”

Fink sighed, pulling back the sass he was so accustomed to leaning on, just this once. “Yeah, kid. I mean it. You two have had a long journey. Take a load off. I’m just glad you’re home. You want me to shoo everyone out of here so you can sleep?”

“Nah,” the small goose shook his head, his eye wandering across the line of pictures Roz had created of him not so very long ago. “We’re used to sleeping in a crowd. And it’s nice to hear the voice of friends.”

Once Brightbill and Crusher were comfortable–heads tucked under wings, Crusher’s free wing almost completely covering the smaller goose–Fink wandered out into the clearing where Farrah sat under the stars. She was staring up at the moon as she often did on nights like this, most likely thinking about her family and how no matter the distance between them, they still had the same night sky.

“Mind if I sit?”

She didn’t flinch, didn’t turn to watch his every move, just kept watching the twinkling of the stars. “Not at all. It’s a nice night. Quiet. Calm.”

Mindful of what he now knew of her past, he kept his distance, but still where she could see him and feel safe just out of reach. Fink looked up to the big, silvery moon, round-faced and kind. It reminded him of a certain robot he once knew.

“He’s a great kid, clever and kind,” she said after a long silence. “You really raised him right.”

Fink scoffed and winked at the moon. “It wasn’t really me who raised him.”

“That’s not how he sees it. He thinks Roz was great, but she couldn’t have done it without you. You’re just as important to him that way. He told me so many stories.”

Digging at a spot in the ground, he did his best not to look too interested. “Yeah? Anything…good?”

She laughed then, softer than usual, but still winning the prize for his very favorite sound in the world. Standing, she came closer and Fink kept still, trying not to breathe too fast as she sat as his side, shoulder to shoulder. She was warm. She smelled like raspberries and snails and something else…something intoxicating. “Well, good enough.”

“So he convinced you I’m not going to eat you.”

“Something like that.”

Ah. He’d have to remember to thank the kid later.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Fink. I didn’t know you didn’t know about–”

“Why do you think nobody would have you?”

Farrah blinked up at him. “What?”

“You said where you were from, nobody would want you. I can’t imagine the kind of idiots you must have grown up around.”

She smiled then, a little sadly, turning her gaze to her paws. “My eyes. Nobody wants a mate with mismatched eyes. They assume I’m blind or can’t see as well as them, that because of it I wouldn’t be able to survive or I’d pass it down to their kits who'd have trouble surviving. It’s not true, but I don’t stand a chance against another vixen with matching eyes. That's nature. I just kind of accepted it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Fink gasped. “Your eyes? But they’re amazing! They’re one of my favorite things about you. They’re–” and then he faltered as she looked up hopefully at him, those bright eyes–one light and one dark–bewitching and so very distinct. And suddenly, all the fear and snark left him as he felt himself turning to pure, dopey goo. “--they’re…beautiful.”

She snuggled into his shoulder then, finally giving in, her tail coming to rest over his, wrapping herself around him. And he marveled at how fast a broken heart can heal up. As if it had never been hurt at all.

Yeah. He was really gonna have to thank that kid.

“I think I’d like to go curl up in bed,” she said, finally breaking free and turning back toward the hut where the warm orange light spilled over the snoring bulk of their bear friend and the nearby soft pile of sleeping geese. “You coming?”

“Ah, I gave my bed to the kids. I’ll probably just sleep in the grass tonight.”

She smiled, her eyes shining in the moonlight. “No you won’t. Not when there’s plenty of room in mine.”

He thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep for joy. Not with his kid home again. Not with all of his friends so close by. Not with his nose buried in the fur of Farrah’s shoulder or the curve of her slumbering body curled up around his own. Not with his heart beating as broadly as it was.

But he did. He slept. Soundly. And well.

____

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fink and Farrah, illustration by @grogusmum

[mysingularitybts]

Put Your Records On

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Yoongi x Human! F. Reader (you)

Genre: smut, fluff, strangers 2 lovers, hybrid!au, 18+

Appearances: Bunny!Jungkook, Fox!Jin, Human!Hoseok, Panther! Taehyung, Human! Jimin, Wolf! Namjoon

Word Count: ~30k

Warnings/tags: hybryd au! (there will be mentions of scenting, heats, and that sort of thing) let's start light with cursing, oral (f, m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, light biting, breeding, fingering, m. masturbation, light voyeurism, oral (m2m), cum play, there's probably some other stuff i missed or simply refuse typing out here lol

a/n: this was supposed to be a small thing and then it evolved into what it is today (half plot half porn). i knew i was obsessed with kitty yoongi i just never realized i was this obsessed. this oneshot made me write things i never thought id write, it pushed me to my limits but I'm pretty proud of it. i hope you guys like it... there is so much smut also grammarly is a pain in my ass

○●○●○●○●○●

Like every morning for the past seven years, Yoongi walks to work with hands in his pockets and earbuds in his ears. The music blasting out of them does nothing to dampen the city noise as the extra pair of ears at the top of his head catches them. One of the downsides of being a hybrid, a cat one, to be precise.

Like every morning, he stops in front of a tall, glass-lined building that glimmers under the rising sun, and as always, he curses it out in his head (or under his breath) for ruining his dream. The same one that began when he first learned the purpose of the building. To become a music producer. He scowls at it for a whole minute before continuing to his destination. A minute a day is all the time he allows himself to rain on his parade.

He proceeds to walk to the small music shop tucked between a coffee shop and a comic book store. He unlocks the door fitfully, having to jiggle the keys expertly. There’s no chance of anyone stealing from the store when he can barely open the door himself. Turning on the stereo with the music of a new upcoming artist, he organizes anything he might’ve left out of place the night before and cleans the counters.

It’s become a routine for Yoongi to wake up, scowl at the glass building, go to work, endure people’s discrimination towards hybrids, close the store, go home, and go to sleep. He’s gotten so used to the repetition that when he has free time on Sundays, he feels at a loss on what to do. He’s tried opening the store those days, but then Lee, the closest thing to a father figure he has, would just get mad at him for not resting.

It’s not unusual for him to get new customers. Still, they are always the same sort of people, music students or hipsters who want to try and be cool with their indie music. Today though, he feels something change when a blue-haired girl walks into the store for the first time. The bell jingles at the top of the door as you walk in, looking around the store before beelining to the aisle labeled ‘vinyl.’ Yoongi follows you with his eyes as his tail swishes behind him in curiosity.

You’d heard of this store from a co-worker and thought it would be the perfect place to find a gift for your brother, who’s recently started a vinyl collection. You rummage through the bins trying to find anything he might like but what you see is barely anything you’ve heard of before.

Yoongi stares at you without approaching you; he usually lets the customer decide if they need help. He’s lost count of how many times people have told him they don’t need the help of a hybrid. But as you move into the third bin of vinyl out of the few dozen in the store, he decides to make a move, or you’ll be here for hours.

“What are you looking for?” he asks straight to the point.

You look up, startled, not having heard him approach you. You can’t help but stare, not because he’s a hybrid but because he must be one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life. Yoongi doesn’t take it that way, as he believes you’re judging him for what he is. Instantly his cat ears pin back, and his eyes narrow.

“Well?” He prompts rudely.

“Sorry, um…Yoongi.” You say, squinting to read his name tag, “I’m looking for a vinyl for my brother as a birthday gift.” You look at him nervously as you feel him judge your entire being, wishing you had worn more makeup today and not stained your sweater during lunch.

“Anything in specific you’re searching for? What is his music taste?” Yoongi asks, bored.

“He likes electro-pop.”

Yoongi nods and directs you further down the aisle, he organized the bins himself, and you were looking in all the wrong places. You should've noticed the signs hanging above the bins designating the music genre.

“You were searching in the jazz area. This is electro-pop,” Yoongi points out.

Blushing at your stupidity, you thank him and continue to search for a good artist your brother will like. Yoongi hums in acknowledgment and makes his way back to the cash register, waiting for you to finish and ringing out other customers.

As you shift through the albums, you look up occasionally to look at the hybrid called Yoongi. He sits on a wooden stool, staring out the window. The sun hits his pale face, making him look ethereal. If she was braver, she’d ask him out, but she knows there’s no way he’d like her back. He certainly didn’t show it when he helped her.

Finally, seeing more artists you recognize, you settle on two vinyls for your gift. You walk around the store seeing as it’s your first time in it, and you stop to look at accessories for production closer to the counter. Your eyes roam the equipment, and your hand urges you to touch it. You hold back because you don’t need anything right now. Wanting and needing are two different things you need to be conscious about.

Carefully placing the vinyls on the counter, you wait for Yoongi to ring the items up. He barely looks at you as he tells you the total. That’s okay, though, as it allows you to stare at him more discreetly; you are in awe of this man with his glossy dark hair and pink pout. How could you have formed a crush on a man who has only spoken five words to you?

Yoongi looks up at the lack of response, only to find you staring at him. He frowns deeply, disturbed by the situation. Her staring differs from the people who point at his ears or make off-hand comments, yet he can’t point out why.

“Hello?” He snaps to call her attention.

“Sorry,” you flinch, a blush covering your cheeks, contrasting the blue in your hair.

“Hope you’re brother likes them,” Yoongi tells her, putting both records in a bag.

“Thanks, me too,” you stutter out with a smile.

You promptly pay and leave the store. Outside you slap yourself on the forehead for being so awkward in the presence of Yoongi. Caught up reprimanding yourself, you fail to notice Yoongi staring at you from the window with a quirk on his lips.

Yoongi thinks you’re a little odd but pays you no mind. He believed you’d be more confident with hair like yours, in reality, you’re a little ditsy. It’s cute. You smelled good, too, not that he meant to smell you, but it’s hard not to with his heightened sense of smell. You smelled like chocolates and something florally yet not overwhelming.

To a hybrid, scents are everything they can tell a lot about a person, although sometimes they can be misled. Their smells can sense a person’s mood and overall persona. A handy thing to have when dealing with people who constantly discriminate against hybrids. Times might have changed, and hybrids might have their freedom now, but it can’t erase years of slavery and mistreatment.

○●○●○●○●○●

You keep returning to the store for the next month just to see Yoongi. You didn't know it back then, but now you know he's the only one that works in the store. At first, you would buy little things to have excuses to go there, then you started to leave empty-handed happy to have seen your 'kitty cat' as you've nicknamed him in your head. At around the third week of returning, he asked for your name. You stuttered it out as his response surprised you.

"That name doesn't suit you," he said, staring at you fixedly, "I'll just call you Blue."

"Very creative, Yoongi," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

And while Yoongi is unemotional, most of the time, you've been learning how to read him. A flick of his cat ears, the swishing of his tail, the way his nose scrunches up unbeknownst to him, or the way his mouth quirks up at the side. It all means different things, and you're starting to catch up, so when he sighs, shaking his head at your words, you know he's amused.

Yoongi has gotten used to seeing you every week. Unlike many of his customers, he'd greet you with a 'good morning' and send you off with a 'careful on the way home.' When you don't come to the store in more than a week, he finds himself worried, and as another week ends with no signs of you, he becomes slightly upset. Maybe he did something to upset you. He wants to know if you are okay or if there is anything wrong, but he comes up empty-handed.

He spends his Sunday sulking in his apartment. When he visits Lee, the old man notices instantly. He is delighted Yoongi is like this over a girl. He's been waiting too long for his boy to open up and get a girlfriend. Yoongi shuts it down almost instantly and clears up that you're only a customer. A friendly customer…

Monday morning bright and early, the bell of the shop jingles, and your scent wafts to Yoongi's nose, who is in the back getting more stock. He leaves the boxes behind as he rushes to the front. "Morning, Yoongi," you greet him with a bright smile.

"You didn't come last week, Blue," Yoongi frowns, his pout very apparent and his ears twitching in annoyance, "I was worried."

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize," I was out of town."

You hate to admit that you are happy he noticed your absence. Yoongi considers you a friend! Now you have to fulfill the promise you made to yourself. This is the perfect opportunity to ask him out. If he was worried about you, it meant he cared! If only a little.

"How about I make it up to you?" You ask slowly, looking up at him with hope in your eyes. For an extra measure, you use the advice of a friend and put your hair behind your ear to seem cuter.

"And how are you going to do that?" He asks stoically, crossing his arms.

"Let me take you out to this coffee shop on Sunday. They have local artists playing music. And before you say no because of the shop, I know it's your day off," You rush through your words before he rejects the idea.

Yoongi is surprised at your idea of making it up to him, and it shows on his face. He's unsure of what to say but gauging the fact he spent his Sunday worrying over nothing, he accepts. "Alright, you're paying, though."

"Yeah, of course!" You say excitedly, which gets Yoongi smiling.

Despite seeing each other for many weeks, you hadn't had a reason to exchange numbers until now. He writes his phone number on your phone, and you can't resist having his contact as 'Kitty Cat,' not that he notices. If he did, you were sure he would be dramatic about it. Opening the camera app, you tell him to smile, it takes a few tries, but eventually, he settles and shoots the camera a half smile.

Yoongi does the same with you. After writing down your number, he assigns the contact as 'Blue' and snaps a picture of you. Only he didn't ask you to smile; he only called your name and snapped it. You beg him to change it, but he laughs and shoots down the idea. The picture he took got your essence to a tee. While you thought it was atrocious, he thought you looked cute with the wide-eyed stare and everlasting smile on your face. Your messy baby hairs and fluffy sweater only added to your charm.

That Sunday, Yoongi waits for you by the train station. He bites his nails as he waits, a nervous habit he can never get rid of. After accepting going out with you, he began wondering if this was a date. You never specified what it was for you. Yoongi has noticed your stares and how you hang on to every word he says. He also might've heard you speaking about him on the phone outside the store about how cute he was and how he made you giddy.

He's never really been in a relationship, and he's not sure he wants one, either. It's not like he's never been attracted to someone or had his flings, but they've all been with other hybrids, not a full human. He believes he knows you and you have the best intentions, but he's guarded. In the past, he's dealt with humans that are great at first until their true colors show, and they turn into the worst. It's hard getting over his trauma.

With lots of second thoughts, Yoongi is about to bolt from the train station. His fight or flight kicked in over the whole situation. It's one thing to see you around the store, but everything will change once he breaks the barrier and starts seeing you outside of it.

It's too late as you spot him in the train station and wave at him. "Hey, Yoongi!" You chirp, giving him a hug in greeting.

"Are you okay?" You place a hand on his shoulder. You noticed when you were nearing him that he was tense and fidgety. His tail is flat against his body, unlike how it usually swishes around him. Maybe he's not feeling up to the plans for today.

"All good, lead the way!" He responds with a nod and a small smile.

Yoongi is uncomfortable as you walk side by side on the sidewalk. The coffee shop is on the other side of town, in a nicer part of town, to be exact. As a teenager, he never had a great experience in these places where people with money think they can ask for anything with the right amount of money from a poor homeless hybrid. The sad part is sometimes he was so desperate that he agreed to their requests. He's not proud, but he did what he had to survive, and now he's in a better place.

The coffee place barely resembles a coffee place. Inside are tables gathered around a small stage; where the coffee usually sits, there is alcohol instead. When Yoongi points it out, you mention that it's a fully functioning coffee place during the day, and at night it shifts to a speakeasy.

"Where would you like to sit?" You ask Yoongi sweetly, thinking about the speakers that might bother him if you sit too close.

"Over here is okay," Yoongi says, leading you to a table near the back.

You notice the speakers don't point directly at the table. You're proud of yourself for thinking about his heightened sense of hearing. There is silence when you sit at the table. Internally, you're banging your head against the table for not thinking of something to talk about ahead of time. You want to talk to him and get to know him. How do you start, though?

Yoongi, on the other hand, is perfectly happy in the silence. He's never felt the need to make unnecessary conversations. After inspecting the room, he looks at you. You look beautiful today. Your blue hair is nicely curled, with little strands framing your face. You're wearing a fluffy blue sweater that fades into white and pink that begs him to touch it and a black mini skirt. Overall, very cute. He tried to say it while you walked to the coffee shop, but his mouth didn't cooperate, leading him down a different route.

There was a question burning his tongue. A matter of what situation they are in right now. It all started as a way to make it up to him, but he can't help but feel there's more to it. Although he thought of running before, he's concluded that a date would be okay. He's in control of his life now, and if he wants something to stop, he can say it.

"Blue?" He breaks the silence; you had been looking at the stage where the first performer was setting up.

"Yes?" You smile at him gently, waiting for his question. He loved that about you, just how patient and soft you are.

"What is this?" he asks, pointing his finger between the two of you. Upon noticing your confusion, he adds, "Is this a date or just an outing of two friends?"

Your cheeks instantly flare up. Maybe you hadn't made it as obvious as you thought, "I was hoping this would be a date."

Yoongi nods at your words and gives you a small smile, "I was too."

A waiter eventually approaches the table, taking both of your drink orders. A casual conversation then erupts between the two of you. You learn that he's been working at the store for nearly ten years. In exchange, you talk about one of your hobbies, photography.

"I never asked but did your brother like the vinyl?" Yoongi wonders, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"He loved them. Turns out I know his taste pretty well," you giggle, remembering your brother's excitement over the records. He had all but jumped into your arms in a big hug. "He mentioned visiting the store one of these days to get more."

"Does he live around the area?"

"Yes! He's currently in the university nearby," You chirp, mixing your cocktail. Your foundation may hide most of your imperfections, but it can't hide the flush of the alcohol.

"Good for him," Yoongi replies in surprise. That's one expensive and prestigious university. It makes him wonder about your family and what they do; he refrains. That's a subject for another day.

Yoongi had misjudged the coffee shop earlier. He thought the performers would be pretentious people who thought they knew about music. He'd also thought they would all be humans. But as the performers go on, he notices most of them are hybrids, and the people at the tables around them are too. "How did you find this place?"

"One of my friends works here, and the other will perform later."

Jung Hoseok is one of your great friends. You two used to work together until he decided he needed a break from everything some months ago. Next thing you know, he's managing a coffee shop and hosting music shows.

"Actually, I think I see him now," you say, waving your hand delicately toward Hoseok. Yoongi looks in his direction and sees a handsome man with a bright smile. It makes him insecure.

"I'm so glad you're here, sweetheart," Hoseok exclaims, approaching the table and leaning down to hug you, "Who is this?" He asks with a twinkle in his eyes. Hoseok had already heard everything about the cute, brooding hybrid cat.

"This is, Yoongi, my date," you say, "Yoongi, this is Hoseok, the friend I just told you about."

"Nice to meet you." Yoongi shakes the man's hand firmly.

"Don't forget about me," a deep voice says from behind Hoseok.

If Yoongi thought Hoseok was handsome, he is at a loss for words to describe the man or, rather, the hybrid that pops up beside him. The panther hybrid swoops in to hug you, too, whispering in your ear how gorgeous you look. It angers Yoongi that he couldn't say it beforehand because it means he is not the reason for the blooming blush that covered most of your face and neck.

"This is Taehyung," Hoseok introduces the panther hybrid, "Tae, this is her date, Yoongi."

Hoseok and Taehyung try very hard to hide their curiosity and glee. They've wanted to meet Yoongi for weeks, so they were ecstatic when you told them you'd bring him around. They were spying on you from the back, where Taehyung was using his heightened hearing to translate your conversation.

"You're going to perform tonight?" Yoongi asks the panther.

"It's my first time. I'm a little nervous," Taehyung responds, fidgeting with his hands.

"You'll be okay; you've practiced so much," You reassure him, reaching for his hand.

"Thanks, honey," Tae smiles at you.

"We'll leave you two to your date. I gotta go present the next performer," Hoseok says, pulling Tae away from the table, whispering in his ear to tone it down before he scares Yoongi away.

Yoongi finds them both pleasant, even if Taehyung is touchy with you. It's like there was something between the two of you. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, though, so he ignores it for now.

As another performer finishes, you stand from the table, "I need to speak to Hoseok for a moment. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

His eyes follow you discreetly, watching as you speak to Hoseok. It appears as if the conversation is serious as Hoseok's smile drops. Yoongi focuses as much as he can on listening to the conversation, but it's hard when the new singer on the stage picks up the ante and strums the guitar louder. He can make out your lips as you say 'please,' but Hoseok only shakes his head no and says what Yoongi believes is an apology.

When you return, you smile at him as if nothing has happened. The rest of the show plays out. You pay as promised and head out into the cold night. Yoongi wants to bring up your conversation with Hoseok, but that's not his place. Besides, it seemed like it troubled you, and he didn't want to ruin the night.

"Did you like the show?"

"It was great; truth be told, I wasn't expecting to see as many hybrids," Yoongi confesses, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

"The owner is very pro-hybrid. It's one of the few places around here that are like that. I thought you'd like it, considering you always have the little stand on your counter." You refer to the local artists' tapes he keeps on the checkout counter; every week, he has a new one on display. You're unsure where he finds them, but you appreciate it as it helps you find new artists.

"I did, thank you," Yoongi smiles down at you and notices how you rub your hands together to warm them up. "Are you cold?" He doesn't wait for your answer as he takes your hands in his to warm them.

"How are you so warm?" You giggle.

"It's a hybrid thing," he mutters, a bit embarrassed. He's always been insecure about the things that make him a hybrid.

"I wish I was always that warm. My hands are always cold," you cutely pout.

Feeling brave, Yoongi says, "I can keep them warm."

You nod appreciatively, afraid of your voice betraying you. You walk the rest of the way hand in hand, and when you arrive at your departing point, you kiss his cheek. "For an amazing night."

"Will I see you at the store?" He asks shyly.

"Definitely."

○●○●○●○●○●

Time with Yoongi goes by so quickly. As promised, you return to the store, and Yoongi invites you out on another date in exchange. Your relationship progressed as the leaves began changing color. You didn't visit the store as much anymore as you visited each other's home. You were no longer the cute ditsy customer but the girlfriend.

You're so lucky to have Yoongi; he's much more than the grumpy cat you met. He's funny and extremely affectionate (in private, of course). It took you by surprise the first time he lay in your lap and asked you to touch his ears. You know it's a big no-no to touch a stranger's animal ears, but then again, you were no longer strangers. As you had your internal debate, Yoongi lay there with eyes closed, waiting for you. Silently praying you wouldn't be put off by it, his doubt was put to rest when you began softly stroking his pointy cat ears.

"Finally," he muttered, sinking further into your lap.

"Have you ever heard the saying good things come to those who wait?" You sass at him. Yoongi instantly relaxes, releasing a sigh of pleasure. You're weak for him, though, as your fingers brush through his hair and rub the base of his ears. He doesn't answer your question; instead, he falls asleep on you.

You're not sure if it's a Yoongi or a cat thing, but he loves his naps. Nine times out of ten, whether you're at his apartment or yours, Yoongi will nap for a few minutes, more if you're rubbing his ears. A trait you know comes from his cat side is looking for a spot in the house where the sun hits just right. You first noticed it at the store, and you thought it was because that's where the cash register is. Then you learned he moved the register closer to the big window to sunbathe. In fact, his apartment is set up in a way where his couch is mainly illuminated by the sun.

Something that is definitely a hybrid thing is scenting. You often caught Yoongi touching you or rubbing his head against your neck, a clear sign of scenting. Another way he does it is by giving you his hoodies or t-shirts. He gets all smug whenever you leave his apartment with his clothes, and whenever you return with his hoodies, and his scent is all faded, he switches them out. He wants to make it known to other hybrids that you are his.

For playing the stoic, serious guy, Yoongi loves kisses. Tiny kisses, pecks on the lips, kisses on the cheek, forehead kisses, full-blown makeout sessions, any type of thing involving kisses, he is there. You're favorite thing, though, is making him purr while you kiss.

In the past, you learned that some cat hybrids can purr and others don't, genetic differences between them or whatever. One day you were straddling his lap in a heated makeout session (one he started) and discovered he's one of the ones that purr.

Startled, you pull back with swollen lips, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Yoongi says, trying to pull you back by the back of your neck into another kiss.

"Was that a purr, Yoongi?" You insist with a teasing smile on your lips.

Yoongi, embarrassed, denies it. Furrowing his eyebrows with a pout, he mumbles, "Don't be ridiculous."

You smile at him and kiss him hard, grinding against him, "Do it again."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yoongi moans, guiding your hips over his lap.

"Do. It. Again," you say in between kisses, "It felt amazing."

"It did?" Yoongi asks with a vulnerable look. He's always been somewhat embarrassed by his cat tendencies because he has had to hide them for many years. In his head, the more human he is, the better. It gives people less ammo when they decide to be rude.

"Mhm," you nod, swiping his lipstick-stained lips with your thumb. "Honestly, it's a turn-on," you whisper in his ear.

"You'll have to figure it out then 'cause I'm not telling you," Yoongi drawls, squeezing your hips.

"Let's get to it, then," You say seductively, kissing him again.

It takes you no more than ten minutes to figure out it's all in the hair. Whenever you pull the hair on the back of his neck, Yoongi purrs like there's no tomorrow. Minutes later, you make another discovery. The purrs are especially good when he's going down on you.

"Fuck, Yoongi," you moan, gripping his hair in your fist. It's a double-edged sword you have; you pull his hair due to the overwhelming pleasure, but it makes him purr even more.

There's no way for you to close your legs as Yoongi is settled right between them. He holds tightly to your thighs with one hand as he flicks your clit with his tongue and works two fingers into you. Neither of you is sure how you got into this position, but there are no complaints.

"I'm not sure if you want me to stop or not," Yoongi teases you with a smirk, leaving kisses over one of your thighs, although his fingers continue their assault. The sound of your wetness, along with your moans, resonates through the room.

"Don't even think about it, kitty cat," you respond, propping up on your elbows. Your head tilts back with a loud moan when Yoongi rubs against that spot.

Yoongi glares at the nickname and bites just where he kissed you. He detests the nickname, so he gets testy whenever you call him that. You whine at the momentary pain, but it turns you on even more.

"Forgot you were a pain slut," Yoongi says with all the intent in the world. He hates being called 'kitty cat,' and you hate the term 'pain slut.' Now you're even.

You glare, pushing him away and shuddering as his fingers leave you empty. Your skirt falls back into place as you sit back on the couch with a pout that's supposed to make you look angry. Yoongi holds back a laugh, knowing you love being dramatic. He moves into a sitting position and grabs your hand, pulling you into his lap, where you can perfectly feel his hard-on over his sweats. His sticky fingers are on your side, playfully squeezing you.

"Don't be so pissy. You know I'm joking," Yoongi chuckles, kissing your shoulder. His hands trail over your body, squeezing your clothed chest before delving between your thighs, but you remain emotionless.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Yoongi jokes, kissing the point in your neck that makes you ticklish.

"That's not funny," you scoff, trying to hide the smile dying to come out.

"You're right, it's not," Yoongi agrees, "I'm sorry, Blue." He props his head on your shoulder with a pout, despite your messy blue hair tickling his face.

"I'm sorry too," you say rather unwillingly, turning to him.

"That's my girl," Yoongi smiles, gripping your chin to kiss you.

You squeal when he stands up, taking you to the bedroom to finish what he started.

○●○●○●○●○●

One fall afternoon, you bring Yoongi lunch to the store. He received a big batch of inventory and missed his lunch hour. Your hours at work are flexible, so you stop by one of the restaurants near the store and pick up his favorite.

"Yoongs, I'm here," you call out, not seeing him by the register.

"Back here, Blue!" You only see his hand waving from behind a pile of boxes. You leave the food at the counter and go around the boxes to see him sitting on a small stool organizing the new batch of CDs.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss his cheek. "Come eat before it gets cold."

"One second," he mutters, stacking the CDs in a neat pile before he stands.

"Hi," he smiles at you pecking your waiting lips. You walk back to the front of the store with his hand in yours.

You and Yoongi keep a pleasant conversation going as he eats and checks out customers simultaneously. Some clients come with questions you're more than happy to take care of. All the time you've spent at the store paying off. When he's finished and the store is empty of customers, he pulls you between his legs. Instantly, you know what he wants. It's his favorite thing in the world.

"Don't act so cocky," he murmurs against your lips.

"You're too cute." Your giggle is cut short by a kiss. Yoongi moves his lips expertly against yours, stealing your breath away. His arms keep you close to him, you also feel his tail by your side as if trying to curl around you.

A moan is heard through the empty store when Yoongi nips at your bottom lip. He smiles into the kiss, proud of himself. You're so reactive to his touch. He doesn't have to do much to get you like putty on his hands.

One of his palms sneaks under your shirt, meeting with the band of your bra. Yoongi's thumb brushes over the cup, teasing at how close he is. In turn, you find yourself palming him over his jeans. He's not fully hard, holding back if anyone walks into the store.

"Don't start something you can't finish," Yoongi tells you, kissing up and down your neck.

"We can flip that sign around and go to the back room," you pant as Yoongi leaves open-mouthed kisses against your jaw.

Yoongi is about to agree when the bell at the top of the door jingles obnoxiously. Jumping apart, you keep your distance. It's an older woman who barely spares a glance towards the two of you. She continues on her way, searching for whatever. 

You pout at Yoongi, who only shrugs, pecking your cheek. The woman then appears with an old cassette of an even older artist. Yoongi had those in the back of the store with a few cassette players. He says it's for the old music teachers who reject the artists of this generation. It's a business, and he needs something for everyone.

He rings her out and hands her the paper bag. The old woman looks between the two of you with an indignant look. "Honey, you can do so much better." She says with a frail voice filled with audacity.

Yoongi tenses beside you and is about to say something to the lady when you stop him, "What are you trying to say?" You ask in a daring tone. You need to know if this woman has the guts to voice her thoughts.

"That you can do so much better than a filthy hybrid. They are beneath us, just like any other animal would be. Why don't you find yourself a nice human boy to settle with?" She states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Yoongi sags at the woman's words. He's fine being humiliated alone but not in front of you. It's just a reality check that your situation is just a thing in passing. You'll never truly like him or see him as your equal.

"First of all, lady, I don't need a man or a hybrid to settle or take care of me. I can do that perfectly fine. Second, this man you want to say is beneath me is the most kindhearted, loving, hard-working man I've ever met. Not to mention he's the hottest too. Now take your old ass cassette and never come back." You don't scream or raise your voice. You talk in a steady dangerous tone, and by the end, you are leaning against the counter, facing the woman. 

She looks at you as if you've cursed her whole family. The moment you finish talking, she almost runs out of the store. Clearly, she hadn't expected that reaction. She probably wanted to rile Yoongi up to try and prove some stupid point she thinks she has about hybrids.

Turning to Yoongi, he's staring at you with a lustful look, "You really think that?"

"I do," you say, giving him the reassurance he desperately needs.

Yoongi steps around you, reaching for the sign on the door and turning it around to 'closed.' He grabs your hand when he returns, pulling you to the backroom. You barely get there when he pushes you against the door, kissing you feverishly. The way you stood up to the woman and defended him got Yoongi fired up.

"I fucking adore you," he gruffs before smashing his lips on yours. 

He kisses you bruisingly hard, pouring all of his feelings into it. You reciprocate his eagerness, folding your arms around his neck. You didn't realize that defending Yoongi almost made him say those three little words. He's conscious it's far too soon for that, and maybe the heat of the moment made him think of them. Still, he needs to get the 'I love you' out of his system somehow, and what better way than fucking you in his back room. 

"All this because I spoke up?" You giggle between kisses though it's interrupted by Yoongi sneaking his tongue into your mouth. 

Yoongi is in a frenzy, squeezing any part of your body he can reach; your thighs, your ass, your arms, your back, your chest. He needs to feel you close, closer than ever before. With each touch, you moan into his mouth. If he didn't love kissing you so much, he'd allow himself to listen to them. 

When you and Yoongi have sex, you always get on your knees first. You enjoy watching him struggle and get all flustered. His fingers knotting in your hair to get what he wants, making him believe he's the one in control. What can you say other than you find pleasure in giving him head? 

It works out because as giving as Yoongi is behind closed doors, he's a selfish lover. He is quick to take what he wants from you; your hands, your breasts, your mouth, your cunt. You get pleasure along the way, he draws orgasm after orgasm from you, but it's all a ruse as he gets the most out of it. Whether it's your taste, your touch, or your mellifluous voice chanting his name. You make him feel victorious. 

Today though, the roles are reversed as Yoongi breaks the kiss and drops to his knees. It's all about you at this moment; you've given him enough pleasure by defending him. You're lost in the moment; you don't question Yoongi's behavior. For you, this was just another horny adventure between the two of you. 

The kneeling cat hybrid bunches the skirt up to your hips and pulls your panties down your legs in one swift movement. His actions are firm yet careful. Decided. He hasn't even touched you, and yet you're breathing heavily. Yoongi leaves wet kisses from your stomach down to your mound. Grabbing your leg, he props it over his shoulder, giving him perfect access to your center. 

It's no secret you are wet. You have been from the moment Yoongi teased you earlier. Your body is somehow always ready for him. It doesn't help that you found everything he does sexy. Your breath hitches when his tongue licks a stripe from your opening to your clit, brushing over it with precise pressure. 

Your fist finds its place in his hair, right between his cat ears. You buck your hips with each lick and suck, Yoongi's name falling from your lips. He only keeps his eyes trained on your flushed face and swollen lips. His grip on your thighs keeps you grounded as they clench each time you close your eyes for too long. Yoongi needs you to see him worshiping you on his knees. 

It's a vicious pattern that Yoongi sticks to. Flicking your clit, fucking you with his tongue, nipping your thighs. It's enough and too much all at once. You'd be on the floor if it wasn't for the wall behind you.  

Yoongi's feline-like eyes indicate he is enjoying this as they reflect his playfulness. Your heel digging into his back and your thighs tightening around him betray you, giving it away that you're close. Not like you were hiding it as curses left your lips. 

Keeping a steady rhythm, he brings you to the edge and over the cliff. A selfless act 'cause if it were up to him, he'd edge you until you were begging and weeping. Your juices drip like a stream, and he acts like a man who spent the last year in the desert. Not a drop goes to waste. 

Only when you lightly nudge him back does Yoongi stand from the floor. His grip on you does not ease as he stabilizes your swaying form. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're weak in the knees. 

"Fucking delicious," Yoongi purrs as he shares your taste with a kiss. Fear overtakes him at the thought of never savoring you again. There's no one as addicting as you, so sweet and intoxicating. 

You grab onto his shirt, tilting your head to kiss him deeply. It's then that you feel his hard cock pressing against you. Poor kitty is being so good to you. Usually, he would've complained by now.  

Yoongi breathes into your ear as if on cue, "I need you, Blue."  

"You have me, Yoongi," you reassure him, pulling his clothes, desperate to get them off. 

You unbuckle Yoongi's belt and pop the button off his pants, digging your hand underneath to grip his cock. He is warm and heavy on your palm. Yoongi releases a throaty moan as you pump his cock, squeezing him lightly. 

You kiss the column of his throat as he throws his head back in pleasure. Releasing him momentarily, you take off your sweater, making you hot and sweaty. Running out of patience, Yoongi pulls the cups of your bra down. 

He turns you around by grabbing you by the shoulders. You brace your hands against the wall. From behind, Yoongi fondles your breast, pinching your pebbled nipples. He pecks your naked shoulder, biting when he ruts against your ass. 

"I can't hold it anymore," Yoongi groans.

"Fuck me, Yoongi," you whine, arching your back and lifting up your skirt. 

Yoongi spreads one of his hands on your upper back, forcing you to lean forward. With the other, he grabs his member, teasing you with the tip. Your arousal coats him instantly, and with one swift thrust, he forces his cock into you. 

Both of you moan in unison. The pace is slow at first until Yoongi starts thrusting faster and harder. His grip is tight around your waist; you wouldn't be surprised to find marks there later. You remove one of the hands from the wall to find Yoongi's. He holds it against your waist, squeezing it every so often. His groans are like music to your ears. The way his voice gets deeper and raspy, you could cum just by hearing him speak. 

Your walls feel so good around him. You'd tighten around him every so often; it would make him falter. The more you tense around him, the closer he gets. He pulls your back to him, so you're pressed against him. Yoongi buries his head on your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and a hand between your legs. He clumsily rubs your clit, making you climax in no time. It's perfect as the waves of pleasure push him to spill into your warm pussy. 

There's a moment where you both stay in that same position, catching your breath. Yoongi is inside you, his head on your neck, arms wrapped around your stomach. You hold onto him as best as you can with your eyes closed. He's so close to saying, 'I love you,' but fear of rejection stops him. He could live without you knowing but not without you. 

You shudder when he slips out of you. If it were up to him, he'd take you home and do it all over again, but you're expected back at work. Yoongi quickly helps you clean up and find your clothes strewn around the back room. Which is easier said than done. 

"Shit, I have to go," you exclaim after reading a text. 

"What happened?" Yoongi asks, handing you your sweater that had been covering a lamp. 

"I have a meeting in half an hour," you mumble, putting on your sweater. 

You rush out of the music store with a quick look in the mirror and sore legs. Your colleague is waiting for you when you open your office door. When you sit on your chair, you realize something is off. 

You don't have any panties on. Yoongi, that fucking sneaky cat must've kept them. 

    ○●○●○●○●○●

It had been a long week for you, with many deadlines and projects. Yoongi knows how hard you push yourself, so he worries when he calls to see how your day is and doesn't receive the response he usually gets. Something is wrong with you; that's all Yoongi knows. Yoongi changes quickly and gets takeout knowing you probably still need to eat.

He arrives at your apartment in record time, pulling out the key from his pocket to unlock your door. Yoongi has been spending so much time with you, you thought it would be easier if he had a key to your place. A week later, he gave you a key to his place. It was only fair.

He searches the familiar apartment, trying to find you, but you're not there. You're home, though, as your keys hand from the hook and your comforting scent welcomes him. He knocks on your bedroom door, and slowly, he opens the door. You're not on the bed, but that's when he sees the light coming from the bathroom.

"Blue?" He calls out from behind the door.

"I'm here," your quiet voice responds with a sniffle.

He opens the door to find you in the tub, hidden by soap bubbles. Your eyes are red-rimmed and wet. The addition of your red nose confirms you've been crying for a while.

"What's wrong, Blue?" Yoongi tenderly asks, kneeling by the tub to be eye to eye.

"Just had a horrible day at work," you sniff, hiding your face with fading blue hair. It's ironic how it matches your mood. "And my damn hormones are making things worse."

"You want to talk about it?"

You shake your head no as tears fill your eyes again. Work has been stressful this past week, with so many deadlines and little inspiration. The more you work, the less motivation you have. You've only been working at the company for 3 years. How will you manage to do it your whole life?

"Want cuddles?" Yoongi asks, brushing your hair out of your face.

Seeing you shake your head, yes, he undresses and gets into the tub with you. The fact you're on your period does nothing to impede him. It's just blood.

He hugs your shoulders and makes you lean against his chest. The water is hot enough to turn his skin pink and make him sweat, but his goal right now is to comfort you.

Yoongi kisses your head and lays his cheek on the top of your head. Feeling another wave of frustration and pain, tears pour out of your eyes. Knowing what you need, Yoongi gently massages your abdomen to ease the painful cramps. It's meant to be an act of both emotional and physical comfort.

"I'm sorry I'm crying over nothing. It's so stupid." Your hand rises from the water to wipe away your tears, yet it stops midway and falls back into the steaming tub of water. It's pointless; more will retake their place.

"It's not stupid, Blue," he whispers in your ear. "What you're feeling is real; the only way you'll feel better is to let it out." Yoongi is familiar with pain. It's like an old friend, always in the back of his mind.

Yoongi's words cause more tears to fall into the bath water. You're sad and angry, and frustrated at everything except for Yoongi. You're happy he's there with you, the highlight of your day. There's no way you're letting him go from your life. The past boyfriends you've had never treated you the way Yoongi does. They were alright. They just didn't pay attention to details.

With the water turning cold Yoongi gets out to heat up dinner. He sets up the table with a candle in the middle. You're a romantic; it'll cheer you up. You shuffle into the kitchen area with the hoodie he left in the bathroom and sweatpants. Yoongi smiles sweetly at you, motioning you over.

He had placed the plates facing each other, but you take yours and put it beside his, scraping the chair over the floor to sit beside him.

"Thank you." You kiss his cheek and begin to eat.

With him being right-handed and you being left-handed, there is no way he can hold your hand while you eat. Still, you feel his tail brushing against your back, providing that comfort.

○●○●○●○●○●

"There he is! The man of the hour!" A blonde man called Jimin yells, seeing Yoongi walk into his apartment.

"I'm surprised he even remembered how to get here," the fox hybrid Jin adds, uncorking a wine bottle.

Those two men are his best and only friends. Yoongi ignores them both, dropping his backpack on the couch. He first met Jin at the supermarket, where a man was throwing off-hand comments, and the hybrid fox stepped in. He acted as if he had known Yoongi all his life and glared at the man, bearing his teeth. The man left, instantly scared that he might get bitten. Jin laughed in pure glee. His fangs might be sharper than humans, but the rest are the same. He loves scaring humans; they are so stupid.

Different from when you defended him, Yoongi was less enthusiastic with Jin. He got into an argument with Jin about how they would get kicked out, what people might think, and a whole dilemma on hybrids' appearances going downhill because of people like Jin. This was 8 years ago when Yoongi was young and much more insecure than he is now. Jin has been the one to help him ease up and accept himself.

Yoongi's still figuring out how Jimin came to be. He was Jin's coworker; the fox had invited him to hang out with him and Yoongi. The rest is history. He's never left them alone since. It took a long time for Yoongi to warm up to him, though he thinks it was part of Jin's therapy to make him more tolerant of humans. Not all of them are bad people.

"You're being exaggerated," Yoongi gruffs, sitting on the kitchen's bar stool.

"Exaggerated? We haven't seen you in nearly two months," Jin scolds him. His voice is reprimanding, but his body movements are smooth and controlled as he places a wine glass in front of Yoongi.

"What has you so busy, Yoongi?" Jimin curiously asks. He takes a swing of the wine glass, grimacing at the dryness of it. He's always preferred white wine.

"Nothing, I wanted some distance from you two always annoying me," Yoongi jests, ignoring their complaints.

"Or counteroffer he has a girlfriend," Jin then says knowingly, "That usually gets people busy." Yoongi's silence confirms his suspicions. Jin's tail puffs up in victory.

"Pay up, Jiminie!"

"Fuck," Jimin whines, patting his pockets and pretending to look for his wallet, "I left my wallet in the car."

Jin rolls his eyes at the lies. It's okay because he knew Yoongi had a girlfriend before they made a bet. Last week, he had walked by the store to see Yoongi and saw the two of you all chummy. Jin hovered outside for a minute, debating whether he should make himself known. Ultimately, he chose against it knowing Yoongi likes his privacy, especially regarding his love life.

"You were betting on me?" Yoongi exclaims in outrage. They're always betting on silly things. This is the first time they bet on their best friend. Their gambling problem is officially a problem.

"Don't ask stupid questions. Of course, we were," Jin laughs, his black pointy ears flat on his head.

"So the girlfriend? Is she hot? Have you played cat and mouse?" Jimin asks. Yoongi instantly kicks him under the table.

In the 6 years of being friends, Jimin has only witnessed one person leaving Yoongi's apartment, which was a sexy mouse hybrid. That day he also learned that Yoongi plays both ways. Ever since, he teases Yoongi by calling sex 'playing cat and mouse.'

"This was too good to be true," Yoongi huffs. This is why Jin invited them to a dinner he would cook.

Jin refuses to cook outside of his job. He's a chef at a Michelin-star restaurant, and when he's at home, he'll eat frozen dinners or takeout. A paradox of sorts, really. While Jin enjoys cooking, it also feels like a chore, so he won't do it at home. Part of it is his ego; he wants the praise that comes with being an incredible chef.

When Yoongi received the text from Jimin that Jin was cooking he almost ran to Jin's place. A free gourmet dinner? Sign him up. Despite being misled Yoongi stays. He can entertain Jimin and Jin for a few hours. There's food being prepared and multiple bottles of wine on the kitchen counter.

One glass of wine in, and he tells them the bare minimum of his relationship. Two drinks in, and he tells them you were the one to ask him on a date.

Jin is so proud to hear she is human, he's done a great job with Yoongi. Part of Jin's plan is to get him tipsy enough to loosen his tongue, which is why he picked one of the dishes that take the longest to cook. Is it wrong? Possibly, but if he doesn't do it, Yoongi will never give any info.

"She's so cute," Yoongi giggles sipping on the fifth glass, "She defended me the other day when some bitch said she deserved better."

"I take it you're happy, Yoongi?" Jimin asks him, head propped up in his hands. He's more than tipsy, getting carried away by the expensive wine Jin bought.

"I thought I was happy as I was, but then she was just there, and I got so excited when she visited the store. She's soft and kind and doesn't complain about all the kisses. She liked when I purred!" Yoongi says as if it's an outrage.

"We like it when you purr, you ungrateful cat!" Jin shouts, waving around the wooden spoon, splatters of food staining the counter.

"No, you guys tease me about it," Yoongi argues.

"That doesn't mean we don't like it!"

They don't get around to eating Jin's delicious food because they are all too drunk to think when it's done. Jin got too carried away with the timing of the food. Jimin tapped out first, disappearing from the kitchen. Jin and Yoongi resisted longer as their hybrid bodies metabolized alcohol slower.

Yoongi, who is usually quiet, can't stop talking about you. Jin, who is a total gossip, is eating up his words. It's a clear indication the pair is wasted. That and the fourth empty bottle of cabernet.

"Jin, I swear she's driving me insane. She's insatiable, and I fucking love it," Yoongi smiles widely. He's lovestruck and way too drunk. You would surely be furious if you heard how he was talking about your relationship.

"Wow, you finally found someone that keeps up with you." Jin is astonished. Yoongi has a high sex drive. When Jin got him to go out clubbing, he would always leave with someone. Hell, there were times when Yoongi would have someone with him during his heats. He had all the contacts.

"God, she has given me the best head of my fucking life, and she loves it too, always on her fucking knees. Look at this."

Yoongi doesn't think as he pulls a Polaroid out of his wallet. Given your hobby of photography, you have many cameras around the apartment. One day, he didn't hesitate to reach out and snap a pic.

It's a picture of you on your knees, Yoongi's cock in your tiny hand, and your blue hair in two braids barely covering your chest. Yoongi's ring-clad hand is holding your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth to show his white cum in your mouth.

"Lucky son of a bitch," Jin gasps, staring wide-eyed at the photograph. Yoongi is too drunk to realize how bad it is that he's sharing a picture made only for his eyes. Luckily, Jin is too drunk to remember it in the morning.

Laughing loudly, Yoongi stumbles into Jin's living room. The fox is behind him, yelling at him for rubbing in his face his thriving sex life. Jin feels guilty about the tightness in his pants, he can't help it. He has been single for too long and his job keeps him busy leaving no room for one-night stands. The only release is the one his hand provides.

Yoongi trips on Jimin, sleeping on the floor, his chubby cheek squishing onto the carpet. The room is spinning for the cat hybrid; he barely manages to fall on the couch face down, getting knocked out instantly.

The following day Yoongi wakes up with a splitting headache and a kink in his neck. He stumbles into the kitchen to get water and finds a puffy-faced Jin. He has a spoon in his hand as he eats the untouched food from last night straight from the pot.

"I'm a culinary genius," he talks with his mouth full.

Yoongi grabs the spoon Jin offers him and digs in. He moans at how delicious it is, even if it's cold and he's not quite sure what it is. This is what he came for last night.

"How did I let you fool me again?" Yoongi wonders. It's not the first time Jin has done something like this to get him to join them.

Despite their headaches, both hybrids laugh loudly, the older one choking on the food. Yoongi laughs louder, patting him on the back. He loves his two friends; it's just that he loves being on his own, too, and they can be clingy as fuck. He appreciates it when they reach out, though.

Jimin appears in the doorway with an indignant look on his face. "Some of us are trying to sleep. What has the two of you giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls?"

○●○●○●○●○●

"Help."

Yoongi looks up from the sofa seeing you with your hair parted in chunks. There are strands of hair with blue hair dye and others without.

"What are you doing?" He stands, walking over to you to assess the situation.

"I can't reach the back," you say sheepishly. Whenever you dye your hair, you have friends with you to help you out. Hoseok has helped you a bunch of times as he's used to dyeing his hair. Your brother helps out too, seeing as he learned when he was a teenager to help you out.

You thought you could do it today on your own; you were desperate to revive your hair to the bright blue that you love. You were wrong because it got too messy and complicated as soon as you got to the strands in the back.

Yoongi sighs but follows you into the bathroom. He puts on a pair of gloves and, with your instructions, applies the blue hair dye. He'll be here a while; you have long hair and a lot of it. He hopes you have another dye tube because the one on the tray won't be enough.

"You're doing it wrong," you say for the third time since he started.

Yoongi pulls your hair lightly, forcing your head back to look up at him. He glares at you in warning; he's running out of patience. You reciprocate the glare. "Ouch."

"You're the one that needs help. Tone it down," Yoongi sighs angrily, brushing the dye on the top of your head.

"I'm just saying you're not adding enough," you snap, annoyed at Yoongi.

You should've known better than to ask for Yoongi's help; you're too much of a perfectionist. You're friends know you well enough already to handle your perfectionism. Still, it's something Yoongi has yet to see much of and needs to learn.

"No, you are saying it a whole other thing entirely. I'm no expert and doing you a favor, I don't need all the reprimanding." Yoongi argues, looking at you through the bathroom mirror.

"Fine then, leave," you grit, snatching the paintbrush from his hands to try and do it on your own.

Yoongi blows air out of his nose in anger, taking off his gloves on the way out of the apartment. He puts on his jacket and slams the door behind him.

Angrily you finish applying the hair dye. At this point, you don't care if it ends up patchy. That infuriates you more. While you wait to wash your hair, you slam each drawer and door in your apartment.

In the shower, you cool down and think of what you did again. Maybe, you were a little rough and reacted wrong. You didn't mean for it to come out as it did. Hurrying out of the shower, you get dressed in the first thing you find and leave for Yoongi's to apologize to your kitty.

Yoongi is at home staring at the TV. It plays a random action movie he can't bother paying attention to. You completely ruined his peaceful mood. His ears are flat on his back, clearly showing his anger. You had no reason to treat him that way, he always helps you out, comforts you, treats you like a damn queen, and then you repay him by acting like a total bitch.

He knows it's you when he hears the door. If you're here, you're probably going to apologize. He lets you knock a few more times out of sheer spite. When he opens it, he sees you with flowers and wine, and without a word, he lets you in.

You instantly catch that his mood could be better. Fair enough. "I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. I have no excuse for it."

"I'm glad you see it that way because I do every single fucking thing you want, and I don't warrant that type of treatment," he huffs, letting some of his frustration out.

"You don't have to do everything I want," you say passively, avoiding another argument. You leave the gifts on the kitchen counter.

"You don't get it?" Yoongi chuffs in disbelief, crossing his arms.

"Get what?"

"I do all those things because I like you and want to make you happy. When you treat me like I'm stupid, it drives me nuts. I don't deserve that."

"You're right, you don't," you agree instantly, "I understand if you want me to leave."

With your head hung, you reach for the door. You think that's what he means with his words. You think he's tired of you that you pushed him away with your bitch mood. You didn't mean to act that way; it just comes out sometimes, especially when you're PMSing.

"Come back, you idiot," Yoongi sighs.

Yoongi grabs your arm, slamming you against the door and kissing you hotly. How you irritate him drives him crazy, but you're not perfect, and neither is he. He'd rather work through it than let you go.

Your hands go under his oversized t-shirt, your nails dragging down his abdomen. Yoongi hisses in pain and wraps one of his hands against your throat, squeezing lightly.

"Don't ever speak to me like that, understood?" His voice is low and commanding.

You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling a wave of arousal. It's no secret that Yoongi has that effect on you, and it amplifies when he gets controlling like this.

"Say it, Blue." Yoongi repeats, tightening the fingers around your neck.

"I understand, Yoongi," you say seductively.

With his hand still around your neck, he smashes his lips on yours, teeth and tongue included. Your arms go around him, lightly tugging on his black tail, and his hips thrust as soon as you do. It never fails to surprise him. You've learned so much in the short time you've been with him.

Yoongi hoists you up, wrapping your legs around him, letting him carry you to his bedroom. The door slams against the wall as he indelicately drops you in the bed.

"Take off your clothes," he orders, sitting on the bed. He watches you with hard eyes, waiting for you to do as he says. "Today, Blue," he scorns when you take too long for his liking.

You don't know what's gotten into him, but you like it. Starting with your hoodie-the hoodie he left behind- you reveal a pretty white bra with flower details. Your leggings go next, then your bra, and lastly, your panties. Yoongi barely reacts, motioning you to continue with each piece you take off.

"Lay on the bed," he points with his head.

You crawl onto the bed, laying on the fluffy pillows that spill with his cologne. You're expecting him to join you, you couldn't be more wrong.

"Touch yourself," Yoongi nonchalantly speaks, tongue poking at his cheek in annoyance.

"W-What?" It shouldn't be a big deal you've had sex with Yoongi many times before, but this is different. Touching yourself is something you do in private, not under your boyfriend's scrutinizing gaze.

"Touch yourself, Blue. I know you do it. You think I haven't seen the toys you hide?" He mocks you with a mean smirk.

"Yoongi, I-"

"Touch yourself, now, and look at me while you do," he snaps, sending you a glare.

If you were to say no, that would be the end of it. Yoongi wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want. He's confident you'd enjoy this, though…to an extent.

Complying, you begin by massaging your breasts, pulling on your hard nipples just like he does when he touches you. Shyly one hand trails down your stomach, and you open your legs, revealing your pussy that Yoongi happens to love so much. It's not an assumption. He's vocalized it many times. He swears he can cum just by looking at it.

Circling your clit with your fingers, you moan his name, calling him to take you. He ignores you, fixating on your actions. A single digit slides between your folds as it easily enters you. You're soaked. It's never the same as when he does it, not as satisfying.

Yoongi notices the glistening of your juices from the foot of the bed, small wet sounds come from your body, along with your whines for him. Your eyes close in instinct while you chase pleasure.

"Open your eyes." You obey his command, your eyes focusing on his face as he licks his lips. You insert two fingers, pumping them steadily, giving him the show he desires.

"How does it feel?" Yoongi inquires, holding your knees open with his strong hands when they clench at the pleasure you're bringing to yourself. He's kneeling right in front of you, entranced.

"Fucking good," you pant, your hand reaching for the one on your knee.

"Better than when I do it?" He asks, lacing your fingers together.

"No, never," you gasp. Yoongi's fingers know you better than you do yourself. They reach depths you've never explored. They are agile and strong due to his talent on the piano. He would touch you just as he does the keys softly at first, adding force when needed and caressing lightly once the piece's climax is over. Always ready to go again and again until he perfect's it.

"Add another one," Yoongi purrs. You've taken his cock many times now. You're always tight but so ready for him.

You replicate his movements when he touches you, curving your fingers until you find that spot. The squelching sound intensifies when you add that third finger, it's music to Yoongi's ears.

A high-pitched yell from you informs him of all he needs to know, "That's it, you found it, haven't you?"

"Yes," you say in a high-pitched moan, your legs try to clench, but Yoongi's strong hands impede you.

"Stop," he says before you cum, "I said stop, Blue!" he roars when you ignore him. You are so close. His hand grips your wrist, forcing you to stop. You open your eyes, hadn't realized they were closed.

"You never listen. Do you?" Yoongi condescendingly mutters.

"I'm sorry," you say, out of breath, hoping he'll join you to finish you off.

He shakes his head, ignoring your apology, "Go on, Lick your fingers."

Obediently you bring your fingers to your lips, licking them clean as per his orders.

"You taste delicious, don't you?"

"Mhm, but you're better." Your eyes are hopeful he'll have his way with you now.

"Too bad 'cause you're not getting it today," he mocks with a fake pout.

"What?" You ask, bewildered.

"Not after what you did today," he says, dipping one of his fingers between your fold, making you shiver. He brings that same finger to his lips, tasting you.

"Yoongi, I said I was sorry," you argue, sitting up on the bed, begging for him.

"And that changes what?" He cocks an eyebrow at your words.

He grabs your chin and kisses you deeply. You numbly follow along before he pulls away, "Get dressed and come out. There's a new episode of that show you like. Oh, and don't you dare cum."

"I don't get it! I'm here begging for you, and you won't touch me." You're upset, but more than that, you're horny. Yoongi is a drug you can't get enough of, and being denied of him sends you into a frenzy. "Wasn't my apology enough?"

"Blue, I forgave you the moment you got here," Yoongi smiles at you sweetly.

"Then why?" You ask, your shoulders slumping.

"Well, just because I forgave you doesn't mean you don't need a punishment."

"And no sex was the way to go. You could do so much better, Yoongi?" You taunt him, thinking this is the way he'll give you what you want.

"Says the girl who couldn't keep her hands to herself and brought me to her apartment on the second date," Yoongi teases her.

"Are you slut shaming me?" You gasp in disbelief.

"No, I'm just saying when it comes to me, you have no control," he shrugs.

"Please, next time I'm mad at you, we'll see who has no control," you pout, gathering your clothes strewn on the floor.

"Probably you. We know how you get when you're mad," Yoongi winks.

You wanted him, he was decided, though, and a stubborn Yoongi always wins. You get dressed again, only in his hoodie, hoping he changes his mind. He doesn't. He acts as if the fight never happened, cuddles you, and kisses you, but that night he doesn't touch you the way you want, ignoring all your advances.

The following day is a different story as Yoongi fucks you like you want, ravaging your body. Everything he held back the day before he uses to his advantage. You didn't hold back one bit as you begged Yoongi to fuck you harder. The neighbors will surely complain to the landlord about the unholy noises coming from his room.

○●○●○●○●○●

“Ah,” Yoongi’s moans are hidden by the water falling from the shower. He’s right below the shower head, cold water covering his body. The past three months have gone by so quickly that his heat surprised him.

His back leans against the shower wall as he rubs himself under the cold water. His hips thrust into his hand in desperate need. Yoongi whines in discomfort; his peak is too hard to reach alone. He would call you, but he’s not ready yet. He is not in complete control when he’s in heat, Yoongi knows he’ll say things that will throw you off, and it’s not like you’ll even agree to help him in the first place. You love sex, and you love sex with Yoongi, but this is something else entirely.

Yoongi moans as he continues to pump his cock. It feels so good yet so painful at the same time. The more he reaches his climax, the more the pain intensifies. If he had you here, he’d have you against the wall as he fucks you from behind. The thought sends another wave of heat through his body.

In his horny haze, he remembers something he stole from you, a little piece of you. He shuts off the water, not bothering to dry himself. He has the panties he stole from you that day at the shop on his nightstand drawer. They have your scent attached to them. Should be enough to let him cum.

Yoongi lies on his bed, sweat, and water sticking to the bed sheets. He grabs the soft fabric and envelops it in his aching length. Yoongi fists his length, imagining he’s with you, how your hands tighten around his cock, or how you like to choke on it when giving him head. Your tight fucking pussy always feels so good. He always needs to stretch you out with his fingers. His moves quicken; the only noise in the room is his desperate moans calling for you, for his Blue. Reaching his orgasm, he covers your panties with his cum. Momentarily his temperature lowers, and his breathing slows as he catches his breath. The first day is the worst. He just needs to get over this day.

If he’d been single, he would’ve called other hybrids he knew and had helped him before. He has you know he doesn’t want to disrespect you or your relationship. He’d be thinking of you even if he’s with someone else. Due to this, through the next two days, his hand becomes his best friend.

                      ○●○●○●○●○●

It’s your six-month anniversary today, and after a romantic date, you and Yoongi desperately enter your apartment. Hands are everywhere, lips are swollen, and sex is in the air. Yoongi teased you all night under the dinner table, refusing to give you what you wanted. Your begging in his ear to fuck you in the car or bathroom not working in your favor.

The door to your apartment bangs against the wall as you push it open. Yoongi pushes you into the room, slamming the door behind him. He likes to think he has it memorized. He pulls your leg around his waist, grinding against you. You moan as he buries his head on your neck.

A cough and the scent of another hybrid force Yoongi to stop in his tracks. With narrowed eyes, he pulls away from your neck. A bunny hybrid stands at the living room entrance, a corn popsicle in his hand.

“For fucks sake Jungkook,” you say under your breath, creating distance between you and Yoongi. “How many times have I told you to call ahead?”

“I did, though! I sent you a message this morning,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his ice cream.

“The message says ‘What’s up?’” You read the message, expecting to see another one following up with an announcement of his visit. The bunny shrugs like it’s not his problem, and you sigh in annoyance.

Yoongi is confused, to say the least. Who is this stranger in your living room? Noticing his expression, you quickly introduce the two hybrids.

“Yoongi, this is my brother Jungkook.”

Yoongi’s confusion rises to a new degree; something is not adding up. Jungkook catches on to his train of thought, and with a chuckle, he adds, “Adopted.”

You had never mentioned your brother was a hybrid. You’ve been dating for six months, and that never came up once. He wonders why that is. It would explain the light hybrid scent in your apartment. Yoongi always thought it came from one of your neighbor’s apartments.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook,” Yoongi coughs to ease the tension.

“How long are you staying?” You ask your brother, crossing your arms against your chest. You are slightly upset, today is meant to be a celebration, and with Jungkook here, that can’t happen. Still, you’re not mad. You love Kook; he’s your best friend.

“Just the weekend, I got an exam on Tuesday,” Jungkook says.

“You look really nice,” he tells you, “Were you guys on a date?”

Yoongi nods solemnly. He’s not sure what to do in this situation. He thought when he’d meet your family, it wouldn’t be in such a compromising condition. Granted, Jungkook being a hybrid helped ease his nerves. He doesn’t have to worry about a stranger judging him or you for your relationship.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Jungkook grimaces in apology.

“Does mom know you’re here?” You ask him while walking to your room.

Clearly, Jungkook is here to stay, so you’ll change and get more comfortable. There’s no use in staying in the uncomfortable dress and lingerie you’d worn for Yoongi. You can save it for next time and surprise him with the black lace set.

“Nope,” he simply says, following you to your room.

You close the door behind you, and Jungkook continues the conversation on the other side. While you forgot to mention that Jungkook is a hybrid, you mentioned that he has no boundaries and easily gets very comfortable with people.

Feeling out of place, Yoongi waits for you on the couch. Maybe with Jungkook here, you wouldn’t like him to stay, or you’d leave with him to his place. The bunny hybrid carefully eyed him as if assessing if he was a good guy or not.

Jungkook almost falls when you open the door. You’ve changed into his hoodie, shorts, and geeky superhero socks. It’s been getting colder lately, making your feet feel freezing. Whenever you go to bed with Yoongi, you press your cold feet on his thigh, making him hiss. Then you’d remind him of his promise of keeping you warm six months ago.

“I couldn’t find the banana milk,” Jungkook pouts, following you around the apartment.

“It’s on the pantry’s lowest shelf,” you mention, flopping on the couch beside Yoongi.

You cuddle on his side when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. Jungkook returns to the living room, eyeing the both of you.

“Jungkook, don’t be so awkward,” you laugh at him, patting the seat beside you.

“I feel bad I interrupted you guys night,” he admits, flopping beside you like you did moments ago. It’s hard to say who got that from who.

“It’s no problem, Jungkook. I’m happy to finally meet you,” Yoongi adds that it’s no biggie.

Jungkook smiles at the both of you and finally eases up. He spends the rest of the night getting to know Yoongi better. You’re pleased they both get along well. If anything, Jungkook even looks up at Yoongi. When you told him you were dating a hybrid, Jungkook was ecstatic. He never mentioned it, but whenever you brought home your human boyfriends, they were always uncomfortable around Jungkook, which hurt him. 

They never understood his hybrid mannerisms. They’d begin thinking he was hitting on you after learning that he was adopted. Now with Yoongi, he won’t have that problem because he will understand.

At the end of the night, Yoongi stays. He’d offered to leave, but you didn’t see a point to it. Even if you do nothing tonight due to your guest’s heightened sense of hearing, you want him to stay to finish the celebration.

“So adopted?” Yoongi asks. He’s lying on your chest as your play with his hair. It calms him down.

“Mm, yes.”

As a teen, your mom had a friend, and she had a bunny girl hybrid as a servant. They didn’t treat her the best, but your mom was always kind to her, and they became somewhat friends. They kept in touch through the years. One day when you were 16 and Jungkook was 12, she died in a car accident. Some believe it was on purpose. 

At the time, she was working for a sketchy man, and he did unspeakable things to her that she could not repeat. By now, the law for hybrids had passed, and she was going to report him. The man followed her and ran over her with his car. Before she died in the hospital, she asked your mom to take care of Jungkook. You and Jungkook became best friends, and your parents gained another child.

“That was nice of your family,” Yoongi hums, caressing your leg.

Jungkook is lucky he was born after the law for hybrids was passed; hence, he was not separated from his mother and got to meet and get to know her. 

Yoongi never got to meet his mom, he doesn’t even have a name. If his memory is good, Jungkook still remembers her, or he has photographs. As soon as Yoongi was born, he was raised with other hybrid kids, and when Yoongi was old enough, he got sold to servitude.

“You should’ve seen him when he first moved in, shy and cute,” you gush over Jungkook. He had this wide-eyed innocent gaze. He always asked permission for everything and anything. It took your family a while to break that habit. It makes you laugh cause nowadays, he does as he wishes and has everyone wrapped around his little finger.

“Reminds me of someone,” Yoongi mentions, squeezing your thigh.

“That’s different. I was flustered by your dashing good looks!” you exclaim, lightly slapping his chest.

The following day you wake up bright and early to prepare breakfast. Jungkook walks in with his hair pointing in all directions. He kisses your cheek in greeting before sitting on the kitchen table. Like clockwork, you give him a glass of juice with a straw and a silicone tip. 

Jungkook likes biting on straws (on everything he can get his teeth on). When you stopped buying the plastics ones for the more environmentally friendly metal ones, Jungkook didn’t like that and began complaining about how he couldn’t bite into them. Falling for his whines, you bought a pack of silicone tips and then another, and then another cause he destroyed them with his bunny teeth.

“Have plans today?” You ask him, ruffling his messy hair. Jungkook leans into his touch, feeling comforted by the simple action.

“I think I’m gonna lazy around and play online if that’s okay,” he asks sweetly, knowing that otherwise you would scold him and tell him to go out and enjoy the fresh air. He doesn’t know that since you’ve been with Yoongi, you’ve turned more into a homebody.

“Of course. Yoongi and I will be heading out to work soon, but you call me if you need anything.”

You had prepared a stack of blueberry pancakes for all of you. You served Jungkook a big plate, knowing he eats like there’s no tomorrow. His bunny metabolism helps him with that, and his unrelenting energy. As you place the plate in front of Jungkook, he gently bites into your arm.

You sigh in defeat, knowing there’s no way for him to stop his biting. For years you’ve told him not to do it, but it’s an instinct of his. He does it when he’s angry, when he’s sleepy, when he’s happy, when he’s annoyed. What varies is how hard he does it.

Jungkook smiles mischievously, waiting for your complaint, but all you do is brush through his long dark hair, undoing the knots that form by his bunny ears. Just like Yoongi purrs, Jungkook makes a weird sound in the back of his throat whenever you touch him around his ears.

Yoongi, having woken up later than you, walks into the kitchen. He’s dressed in clothes he’s left here in the past months. He beelines for you, pecking your lips sweetly as you hand him a plate of pancakes.

“Morning, Jungkook,” Yoongi greets the younger boy.

“Morning, Yoongi,” Jungkook says with his mouth full of pancakes.

You sit between them, striking conversation between the three of you. It’s much easier than you thought, as Jungkook just asks question after question at Yoongi. He’s never felt more at ease with one of your boyfriends.

“Can I stop by the store later?” He asks Yoongi with puppy dog eyes.

“Sure, I’ll be there till 6,” Yoongi agrees with a soft smile. There is a lot of Jungkook that reminds him of you. While you are not biologically related, you’ve adapted to each other’s mannerisms.

In the afternoon, Jungkook stops by your office to have lunch. He always has a great time at your building since most people know him there. He hopes to work there after he graduates from university.

As promised, Jungkook then stops by Yoongi’s store. He has walked by the small shop many times but never stopped to go inside. The bell at the door jingles when Jungkook walks in. Yoongi has just finished checking out a customer.

“Hey, Kook.” Yoongi greets him, his black tail swishing behind him. He’s heard you call him Kook so many times it stuck.

“Hi, Yoongi,” Jungkook absentmindedly responds, staring around the store and its variety, from musical instruments to producing equipment to music albums of all kinds and formats.

“Your sister mentioned you were collecting vinyl?” Yoongi asks him, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, I have a few,” Jungkook nods, looking at the cat hybrid, who offers him a sneaky smile.

“I pulled these out for you. I think you might like them.” Yoongi pulls out two pieces of vinyl still wrapped in plastic from the shelf behind him. Yoongi likes the bunny hybrid and sees how happy he makes you, so he doesn’t mind giving Jungkook a small gift.

“How do you have these?” Jungkook exclaims in awe. In his hands are two limited edition vinyls of his favorite artists. These have been sold out everywhere for a long time, and very few people sold them. Whenever they did the waitlist, the bids were ridiculous.

“I’ve got contacts,” Yoongi shrugs cockily.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna get along just fine,” Jungkook beams at him, gushing over the vinyl.

They spend quite a lot of time talking about music, and Yoongi is surprised at all the knowledge the bunny holds. There are things Yoongi thought only a few people knew, but Jungkook is proving him wrong here.

“Is there a reason you visited this weekend?” Yoongi smoothly asks Jungkook. He’s noticed some things about the bunny that lead him to think it’s not just to have a friendly visit.

“Nope, was tired of school,” Jungkook says, lying.

“Your sister has mentioned you like to skip a lot,” Yoongi adds. He’s staring out the window wanting to keep the bunny calm.

“I don’t skip that much,” Jungkook complains with a groan. His sister always exaggerates things, he barely misses school.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi inquires again.

“I know my sister worries, but I’m fine. You don’t have to do this.”

Since he came into your life, you’ve worried about Jungkook-or not so much about him but the people around him. Not everyone is tolerant of hybrids, and you know this. When he came into your life, you were already in high school, so you weren’t there to defend him when bullies bothered him. When he was 12, he wasn’t big and buff to scare people away as he is now. He was small and scrawny, your parents talked to the principal and the other parents, but there’s only so much they could do.

“She didn’t send me to do anything. I just noticed the bruise on your arm,” Yoongi points to Jungkook’s left arm.

“Don’t tell her,” Jungkook sighs, defeated. He’d tried to hide the bruise as best he could. “My roommate is an ass, and he’s always taunting me, calling me a helpless bunny. He’s provoking me. I usually leave because if I throw the first punch, I get expelled. My parents did a lot to get me into the school I wanted. I don’t want to let them down.”

“You’re doing good, Jungkook,” Yoongi says thoughtfully. He understands Jungkook’s predicament. No matter how well a hybrid does, one misstep can end it all.

“But?” Jungkook prompts, there’s always a but.

“You should tell someone, get you out of that dorm. Staying quiet will only get you so far,” Yoongi advices. From his perspective, Jungkook has a great support system and should take advantage of that.

“Maybe, I don’t want the attention, though, or for my family to worry,” Jungkook explains. They’ve done so much for him already. He doesn’t want to be a burden.

“Just think about it. Your sister is worrying and doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“You won’t tell her?” Jungkook pleads, finding Yoongi’s gaze. All he wants is to do this by himself.

“It’s not my place,” he reassures Jungkook with a nod.

Thinking of Yoongi’s words, Jungkook agrees. He’ll take care of this situation. He’ll apply for a new roommate or move in by himself. Next time something happens, he’ll speak up.

○●○●○●○●○●

One lazy morning, Yoongi stares at the ceiling. It’s too early to be up. His arm is around you as your head lies on his chest. He had woken up from a nightmare. It had been a while since he had one of those. Why is it that when things are going great, the universe reminds him of the horrible things he’s been through?

Yoongi feels you stir as you wake up. You stretch out your limbs before settling back in Yoongi’s chest.

“Why are you awake so early?” You yawn, kissing his exposed chest. Yoongi can’t sleep with many clothes on, or he’ll get too hot at night.

Yoongi hugs you close, kissing your head, “I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yoongi hasn’t told you much about his past life. When he talks about his past, it’s mainly the part of his life after Lee adopted him. You understand it’s something he wants to leave behind and respect it. It’s time, though, Yoongi thinks.

“When I was a kid before the law passed, I was owned by this family,” Yoongi begins, “Even though I was barely a child, they would have me do chores around the house, clean up their kids’ messes, and obey every little word they said. I remember their kids bullying me into acting ‘like the animal I was.’ They would make me eat off the floor and crawl around the house till my knees were bruised. They’d get physical too, pulling on my tail and ears till I cried.”

“I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you say sadly. You can’t imagine a child going through that, yet it’s the reality many hybrids face.

“When the law passed, I was thrown into the streets. I was alone, cold, and hungry, eating off the trash like a stray. An old woman took me in. She was nice enough. She needed company, but more than that, she needed help around the house. Mostly, I went unscathed unless I did something she thought was out of line. That’s when she’d search for her dead husband’s belt and beat me with it. I never left, though. Where would I go? When she died, I was 14, and back to the streets, I went. I went to different hybrid and homeless shelters, but there was always some sort of problem with them, and they never offered a way to get out of the streets.”

“What did you do then?” Your hands are trailing up and down his stomach, offering some comfort.

“I came to this city, hoping there would be more resources. It was the same. That’s when things truly got worse….” Yoongi trails off, thinking of his past.

“Yoongs, you don’t have to,” You reassure him, getting in a position where you can see his face. His eyes are distant, so you touch his cheek and peck his lips.

“I want you to know,” he slowly responds.

“Okay,” you nod, offering him a small smile that you hoped comforted him.

“There was this sketchy guy I always saw around, and one day he asked me if I wanted to make some money. He knew I did, and he used that to his advantage. He had customers all around the city with different tasks. All I had to do was go to the addresses he gave me, do whatever they wanted me to do, and leave. And I did, at first, it was stupid stuff to help an older man with a yard, clean a house, or do a delivery. When he had my trust, things got sketchier delivering mystery packages to rundown houses, watching some people and reporting back to him, and transporting vehicles from one side of town to another.

Until one day, he said he had an extra special job for me. All I had to do was go to an apartment in the middle of the city. I went, and there, a lady greeted me. It was unlike anything I had ever done before; she complimented me. She led me to this false sense of security and then took what she wanted.” Yoongi pauses, remembering that horrible day, “Turns out they pay a lot for hybrids in heat.”

You think of Jungkook and what would’ve been of him if your family hadn’t taken him in. Your poor Jungkook wouldn’t have survived what Yoongi went through. His heart has always been too pure, too gentle. More so, you feel pain for Yoongi for having to go through it. What he’s been through is some people’s worst nightmare, and he had to go through it all alone.

“I left after that day, didn’t accept the money that came with it or any other tasks offered to me. I spent a year in the streets, barely scraping by and hiding in alleys. There was the music store I always walked by, and one day I gathered the courage to walk in. Lee instantly spotted me and watched me as I played a few keys on the piano. An instrument that has been there for most of my life. The first family I had owned one, and I got to learn the basics by watching their kid’s lessons. The old lady had one, too, that she let me use. She actually liked when I played.

I played a song lightly on Lee’s display piano, and when I finished, Lee was there watching me. He asked me if I needed a job, and despite me showing him I was a homeless hybrid, he didn’t care. Turns out Lee had lost a son due to an illness, and he saw something of his son in me. I was hesitant initially, but Lee always proved to be an honorable man. That’s where I’ve stayed until now, repaying him for everything he did for me.”

When he finishes the story, you have tear tracks down your face. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t deserve to. After all, you were not the one to go through that stuff, yet you felt for Yoongi. You felt the pain in his voice and the injustices he had to go through. His memories still haunt him through his dreams when he should be resting peacefully in the safety of his home.

“I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.” Your voice is watery as you try to voice your thoughts, “I’m so happy that you found Lee and that you’ve found happiness because it’s all you deserve and more.”

“I love you, Blue,” Yoongi confesses for the first time, sitting on the bed. “It’s why I’m telling you, I love you, and you need to know my past before it’s too late.” He needed you to know in case you decided to leave.

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you cry out happily, holding his cheeks in your hands. “It pains me that you have such a tragic past, but it led you to me, and it’s not going to change how I think of you.”

With tears of relief in his eyes, Yoongi kisses you nice and softly. He loves you, and you love him. You know everything you need to know about him, and it didn’t scare you away. He couldn’t ask for anything better.

○●○●○●○●○●

By the time his next heat rolls around, Yoongi has talked to you about it. You had randomly brought up the subject one night, asking him about what he did in those instances. He had been honest about how he usually had someone helping him and reciprocated that help when the time came. He quickly added how he was all alone last time, afraid you’d think he had cheated.

It all made you feel guilty; you didn’t want Yoongi to be in pain and discomfort because of you. At the same time, you did not like the idea of someone else getting to help him and touch him when he was in such a vulnerable state. The only solution was to offer him your help to which he reluctantly agreed.

It led to a long night of Yoongi giving you a rundown of what usually happens when he’s in heat and what to expect. He pretty straightforwardly told you not to take to heart all the breeding references about giving you his babies. You’d giggled at that and told him not to worry. You might actually be into that.

The fated day finally arrives without warning. His constant fucking around with you completely masked the incessant horny feeling he gets. Your voice wakes him up, ripping him away from the dreamy haze he had been in. Unconsciously he had been rutting against her side, his cock rock hard and larger than normal.

“Yoong’s, you’re burning up,” you say, touching his forehead, which is beginning to be coated by sweat.

“I have to go,” Yoongi groans, sitting up. Despite having thrashed all the sheets, he’s sweaty and sticky, “I’m in heat.”

“Yoongi, we talked about this. You have me now. You don’t have to go through this alone,” you tell him, holding onto his arm, preventing him from getting up.

“It can be too much, Blue, and I won’t be thinking straight,” he insists half-heartedly. All he wants is your help, but he’s scared you’ll be disgusted by this side of him.

“Lie back down. I’ve got you,” you say, pushing Yoongi lightly back onto the pillows.

Taking off your underwear, you lift the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed and straddle him. Since this isn’t a time to have tons of foreplay, you grab his hard cock, pumping it while you rub your clit to get yourself wet. Yoongi complains, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy, swearing it’s the only thing that will relieve him.

Finally, you take all his cock, a sting following as you get used to his size. He’s so much bigger when he’s in heat you have never felt as full. Yoongi sighs in relief under you, grabbing your hips to set a pace that will please him best. His hands gripping you so tightly he thrusts into you desperately. His eyes are closed, concentrating on how you clench around him, but he needs more.

He pulls out of you and swiftly brings you to your knees, your front pressed onto the mattress. He slams back into you without hesitation, making you moan loudly onto the pillows. The room is all but quiet. You’re whining from Yoongi, pushing deep into you. Yoongi is groaning filthy words about how well your pussy is taking him, and the sound of your skin slapping reverberates.

For Yoongi, the first wave is the hardest to overcome. It takes a lot out of him to cum. He wants to so badly, but the pain edges him on. Luckily, you’re great to help with what you do next.

“Fuck me, Yoongi. I wanna have your babies!” You yell under him.

You swear your words make Yoongi’s cock swell even more, the stretch unreal. He thrusts hard, pulling away entirely and slamming back in. Tears well in your eyes. It feels too good. You’ve already cum around him once, and he barely noticed. You’re overstimulated by this new experience.

“We’re gonna keep going until you’re full of my cum,” he groans. Yoongi is drenched in sweat his hair sticking onto his forehead. His chest glistens with the dimmed lights of the bedroom.

Yoongi is entranced by how his cockhead pops in and out of your wet pussy. His length is entirely covered in your slick, making it much easier to thrust into you. You were made just for him. There’s no other explanation for why you feel so good hugging his cock.

Finally, feeling like he’s near his release, he lifts you up your back is against his front. He digs his head into your neck, breathing your delightful smell in. His scent entangled in yours prompts him to harshly bite you, leaving a mark on your neck as if he has claimed you as his. Yoongi is right, you are a pain slut, which brings you over the edge.

“That’s it, Blue, milk my cock, take all of it,” Yoongi stills as you clench around him, his nails digging into your hips, leaving half-moon marks on your skin as he empties inside of you.

“Everything you’ll give me,” You pant, your legs feeling like jelly as you slump against Yoongi.

Pulling your head to the side, he places short messy kisses all over your face. The heat waves he felt coursing through his body ceased momentarily. He pulls out of you, his cock not quite soft yet. You whine at the emptiness and how sensitive you feel down there.

Cum trickles out of you as you lay back on the bed, yet Yoongi pushes it back with his fingers. He hushes you when you shudder, kissing your thigh, “Can’t waste it.”

As you predicted, some minutes after his first release Yoongi is back on you. He kneels between your legs, grabbing your hips to fuck you like that. Yoongi is a visual person, so he takes much pleasure watching you take his cock, your cunt pink and puffy from his previous abuse. Part of his cum leaks out of you, although this time around, he doesn’t worry as he promises to give you more.

His mind flashes with the thought of you pregnant, carrying his kittens. Pretty girl. He splays his hand over your lower abdomen and presses down, he feels himself inside of you, and you see stars as he stimulates your spot. You cum again, legs shaking. Yoongi drips in sweat and, with a painful groan, releases inside of you again. Still inside you, plugging you up, he breathes heavily and lays on your chest. You brush through his wet hair, whispering sweet nothings.

“You did so well, Yoongi,” you rasp out, “Fucked me so good.”

Your throat is dry and raspy. You need water, yet you don’t dare to get up. Yoongi needs you.

“You don’t have to stay,” he whispers, “I can finish this myself. You’ve done more than enough.”

Through his haze, he offers you another exit. Heats are too much for the hybrid. He can’t imagine how much it’ll be for you. He appreciates your help but understands if you want to leave now that you’ve tasted how it is.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” you reassure him gently, “I want to help you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Yoongi insists, kissing the swell of your breast.

“You won’t,” you laugh, “I’m sturdier than I seem.”

Yoongi props up on his elbows and thrust slowly, feeling more in control. “I love you, Blue.”

“I love you, Yoongi,” you gasp. Yoongi pins your hands at your sides, lacing your fingers with his.

He’s so pretty with his face flushed. He looks softer with the needy expressions he’s making. Your legs wrap around his waist, trapping him close to you. Yoongi likes it when you get clingy and territorial. It makes him feel wanted.

You sleep hours later with your leg over his hip and his cock nestled inside you. He had managed to snooze off too. Granted, right before your alarm rings, he’s already thrusting into you. You hold onto his back, moaning into his ear and leaving scratch marks behind.

The next day you leave for work, not before Yoongi scents you and fucks you in the shower. The water washing away the remains of him. When you return in the afternoon, he waits for you, shirtless and in sweatpants laying low. He takes you against the door, jeans down to your knees.

By the third day, Yoongi is high and lazy from fucking you so much. He lets you take control, and you ride him lazily, his hands tracing the bruises on your body, some accidental, some on purpose. In his moments of lucidity, he apologizes for the roughness. It’s never his intention to hurt you. You always so kindly wave him off. You don’t care about them, just that your kitty is getting the relief he needs.

You’ve received strange looks at work, and you later learn by visiting Tae it’s because you smell like Yoongi, your usual florals and chocolate scent are almost gone. Only hybrids notice that, so Yoongi also leaves hickeys on your neck (which you hide) for the humans that might want to try something.

By the fourth day, his heat is over. You sneak out of bed to go to work and let Yoongi rest. He’s as still as the dead, exhausted and spent. When you return from work, you smell home-cooked food, and the table is set romantically with flowers in the center and candles.

“You’re home,” Yoongi says, kissing you gently, “Come, I’ve prepared you a bath.”

He leads you to the bathroom, where the tub is steaming with bath salts and bath bombs, more candles are alight, and a glass of wine rests by the tub. Yoongi helps you undress, kissing each and every bruise on your body. You giggle at certain parts as you’re ticklish. Then he offers his hand to help you into the tub.

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be finishing up dinner,” he softly smiles at you.

You relax into the water and nod. Yoongi didn’t have to do any of this; it���s not like he can control his heat. It has you feeling cared for, though, and that’s something you can’t take for granted. When you get dressed, you both have dinner. He apologizes again and hopes he didn’t scare you away. You reassure him he didn’t. You even tell him you found most of it hot, including the breeding kink that came naturally with him.

Yoongi blushes and says ‘noted’ under his breath. The rest of the night, you and Yoongi cuddle, and before bed, he gives you a massage. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he insists, and who are you to refuse?

Days later, you take a pregnancy test, scared of the result. You have no symptoms, but the amount of times you and Yoongi had sex is unholy, and you’re afraid your birth control pills might’ve failed you. His heat clouds his mind, it’s designed to breed and reproduce. Each time he came, he did it inside of you. You know your birth control is 95% effective, yet what’s to stop you from being that 5%. You’re not ready for children. It’s not something you’ve spoken about, either. You pick up the test with shaking hands once the alarm goes off. It’s negative.

○●○●○●○●○●

There are days when you are too busy to go out for lunch. Today is one of those days. Luckily, Yoongi offers to bring you food for when you have time to eat something. It’s his first time visiting you at work, and he realizes he doesn’t know exactly where you work. He always thought you worked at the multi-office building near the corner.

When he follows the direction, it leads him to the building he despises. You never told Yoongi you work there. Feeling uncomfortable, he walks in, where a receptionist greets him, “Hello, how can I help you today?”

Yoongi tells her your name. It feels foreign on his tongue. He’s always called you Blue, and very few people call you by your government name as it is.

“Oh, you must be Yoongi! She told me you’d be coming. Take this pass. Her office is to the left on the 30th floor. You’ll see her name on the door.”

That’s a high number. In fact, it’s one of the few at the top. Usually, that means a high position, but you’ve never really talked about your job. Yoongi knocks on the frosted glass door with your name on it, preceded by Prod.

He wants to leave. How come you never told him you were a producer? That seems like the thing to say when your boyfriend owns a Music Store. You had told him you loved music, and that was it. Anyone can love music and not be involved at all. Not even that whenever he asked about work, you’d say you didn’t like talking about it to keep things separate. How many songs has he heard on the radio that you worked on?

He gets no response, so he opens the frosted glass door he sees a studio with state-of-the-art equipment. You were at the desk with big headphones covering your ears. He could hear a beat coming from them. He taps you on your shoulder, and you jump in surprise.

“Yoongi!” You say loudly, forgetting the headphones on your ears. “Oops, sorry.”

“Hey, I got your food,” he says, raising the plastic bag, but his eyes can’t stop taking in the studio and all the tools you had.

“You are a lifesaver,” you gush, grabbing the bag from him to open it.

“You never mentioned you were a producer,” he clicks his tongue in mild annoyance.

“I didn’t?” you ask, distracted by the food, “Huh, well, this where I work, always at your service.”

“Your boyfriend works at a Music Store, and you forget to mention your work in music,” Yoongi says sarcastically.

“I did say I worked at this building,” you roll your eyes with a smile thinking his joking.

“I always thought it was the other one with the medical offices,” he coughs, scratching the back of his neck in awkwardness.

“This is a huge miscommunication, my bad,” you say sheepishly, taking a bite of the sushi he bought for you.

Yoongi doesn’t know how to feel. He hates the building company for denying him the opportunity of becoming an artist. They were clearly against him being a hybrid despite having the talent. And here you are, working happily in what he wanted. You’re living his dream. It should make you perfect for him, yet all he feels is resentment.

You don’t sense his internal ‘debate’ as you eat. You’re too much in your head over the deadlines you have to meet. It doesn’t work in your favor as Yoongi leaves with a kiss on your cheeks with the excuse of a delivery to the shop. He had to get out of there and think clearly before he blew up on you.

He spends the whole day thinking about how you can work in a company that is against hybrids. He lets his losses get to him and project to you. So when you arrive at his apartment that night to spend time with him, he doesn’t greet you and just spits out, “How can you work in that company?”

“Excuse me?” You ask him, confused you haven’t even taken off your coat.

“That’s such a horrible company, Blue! They discriminate against hybrids. I can’t believe you’d work in such a place,” he argues, standing before you. His posture is tense and his ears and tail lay flat against his body.

“Yoongi, what the fuck? What are you going on about? The company is not against hybrids,” You exclaim, taking a step back.

“Of course they are. I lived through it,” Yoongi reveals.

You pause with wide eyes, “When? You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“Five years ago, I went to audition as a producer. They said that despite my talent, they wouldn’t hire me,” he says, fingers raking through his dark hair.

“That’s unbelievable,” you huff, crossing your arms defensively. Many hybrids work at the company, and she’s never heard complaints of the boss treating them poorly.

“How can you not believe me, your boyfriend, and believe the awful people,” Yoongi scolds her angrily. You can’t be so blind.

“Because that’s my family!” You yell, shutting him up.

“What?” Yoongi goes slack at your words.

“My dad is the company’s CEO, and I can assure you we are not discriminatory against hybrids. For fucks sake, Yoongi, you’ve met Jungkook. Would people who hate hybrids adopt one?”

You don’t like to pull out often that your dad is the CEO of the family company, but this is Yoongi you’re talking to. He cares about you, and you’ve been together long enough that it feels okay for him to know. Besides, maybe this way, he’ll understand that what he says is a lie.

His following words slip with little thought. “Who knows, maybe you just want to look good to the public?”

“If that’s what you think, fine. I’m leaving,” you respond firmly. You will not take anyone speaking shit about your family. It hurts you to hear him say those things. By insulting your family, he insults you too.

You hope Yoongi stops you, but he doesn’t. He knows what he was told. He stays silent, waiting for you to go. He’s set on his way.

It’s one long week where you barely talk to Yoongi. You give him time to apologize or reach out, but he doesn’t. When he realizes his mistake of comparing you to the ones that hurt him, you don’t answer.

○●○●○●○●○●

It has to be a mistake. There is no way your father, who runs the company, turned someone down for being a hybrid. Hell, half of the staff are hybrids. Producers, artists, HR, everything. There are hybrids in all departments. How come Yoongi didn’t see that when he visited.

You’ve spent enough time stewing on this. Time to go to the source, your father. You knock on his office door and hear faintly, “Come in.”

“Darling, how nice of you to visit your old man,” your dad jokes, standing from his desk to hug you.

“Sorry, dad, I’ve been swamped,” you apologize, plopping down on one of the plush chairs in front of his desk.

“I know, I’ve seen your reports, and you’re doing well. I’m proud of you,” he smiles at his daughter, expecting one in return. Instead, she plays with a loose thread on her sweater, not paying attention to him. “What troubles you?”

“You know the guy I’m dating,” you sigh, looking up at your dad.

“Yoongi, yes,” he nods, remembering everything you’ve told him about Yoongi.

“Apparently, he auditioned here like 7-ish years ago, and he says that you or whoever was in his audition didn’t accept him because he was a hybrid,” you say. It’s best not to beat around the bush.

“Really?” He asks, concerned, “Let me look it up.”

In times like these, he’s glad the company keeps a database of all the auditions and interview processes. One of his goals as CEO is to eliminate barriers between all kinds of people, giving them all a fair chance of working here.

“I have his file up. I remember him. He was very talented. He never came back. What a shame,” he hums, rewatching the audition.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“I couldn’t accept him at the time, but I told him to come in a year or two for another audition,” your father explains, passing you a flash drive with the audition.

“Why didn’t you accept him at the time?”

“It wouldn’t be beneficial for him at the time the regulations for hybrids in big companies were not good. They basically required full background screenings and medical exams. And the health benefits were basically nonexistent. Most hybrids don’t have past experiences, and if they do, they’re bad not because they are, but because of the situation they are put through. It wasn’t until a year later they eliminated that law, and their rights were looking better.”

“That makes sense,” you sigh in relief. You shouldn’t have doubted your family.

“If he wants, he can have another audition. You know we’re always looking for new producers.”

“Thanks, dad, I’ll mention it to him,” you smile, leaving.

This is great! Yoongi can audition, and he’ll be able to work alongside you. You just know he’ll do so well. He already has an excellent ear for music. He may be a bit rusty, but nothing a little practice can’t help. She can lend him a hand too!

“Send him my apologies. I never wanted it to seem the wrong way.”

“I will,” you say, rushing out the door.

A knock on the door interrupts Yoongi’s evening nap. He opens the door expecting Jimin or Jin, but you’re at the door with your arms crossed.

“You’re an idiot,” you shoulder him to walk into the apartment.

“I know. I’m sorry, Blue, I shouldn’t have overreacted and assumed things about you,” Yoongi sincerely apologizes.

“You think?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m apologizing, don’t be a bitch,” Yoongi pouts, not liking your attitude.

“It’s just you infuriate me. I’ve been good to you. I don’t think I’ve ever done something to hurt you, and if I have, I’m sorry. But what you did was so unfair. Even if my family were as horrible as you made them seem, I’m not them. And I haven’t given you a reason to believe that,” you lightly argue. You’re not looking to pick a fight. You just want him to understand.

Yoongi hugs you from behind. His words don’t mean anything right now. He lets you vent. You relax against him eventually, grabbing the arms that were around you.

“I talked to my dad,” you whisper, “you misunderstood the situation, Yoongs.”

“Blue, I’m sure of what I heard,” he whispers back.

“My dad records his auditions for moments like this,” you say, handing him the flash drive. “You were great Yoong’s, and they would’ve hired you. They didn’t because it wouldn’t have been helpful for you.”

You explain the situation and your father’s words. If he had gone through the audition, the government tracking hybrids wouldn’t process his applications. That’s why your father told him to return.

“I-how could I have misunderstood this so badly,” Yoongi sighs defeated. He could’ve been so much happier sooner if he had only listened. He could’ve been a producer already. He would’ve met you a long time ago as well.

“It was seven years ago. You were hurt and wanted a reason to be mad,” you comfort him.

“I’ve spent seven years glaring at the building for nothing,” Yoongi humorously laughs.

“My dad says if you want an audition, you have it,” you tell him.

“Really?” Yoongi looks at you, “I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. I gave up on that dream long ago.”

Being a producer was his biggest dream, yet after the disappointment, he instilled in himself, he came to the conclusion that giving up on his dream was for the best. Now he’s not sure he can visualize himself as a producer.

“If you change your mind, the opportunity is there.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Your relationship has kept you so busy you can’t remember the last time you went out with Hoseok and Tae to karaoke. You send them a quick text, and they both agree to meet. As per their request, you bring Yoongi and Jungkook along. The more, the merrier.

Hoseok and Tae are waiting when you get there. They’ve already picked a room. The group orders drinks, which quickly creates a buzz in the room. It takes them no less than 20 minutes to get the party going.

While you and Taehyung duet an old 80s song, Hoseok approaches Yoongi. He’d heard about Yoongis’s job offer and wondered if he would take it.

“You said no?” Hoseok repeats, his facial expression clearly surprised.

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, taking a sip from his drink. He lightly laughs at you and Tae’s terrible rendition.

“Why? I thought it was your dream,” Hoseok asks. He knows what the job entitles. He’s worked at the company for some years now. It’s challenging and frustrating. It’ll drain you of all inspiration faster than you’d think, yet he wouldn’t do anything else in the world. His stunt at the cafe months ago confirmed that.

“It is or was. I don’t know; I feel out of touch. When I went to Blue’s office, there was so much equipment I hadn’t even seen. It’s been a while since I’ve produced too. I write less and less as the years go on,” Yoongi sighs, being honest with Hoseok.

“How about you come to my studio this week? Check it out. I can show you around. It’s not as intimidating as it seems, and I know you’ve got the talent,” Hoseok offers kindly, no strings attached.

In his mind giving Yoongi space from you is good. That way, Yoongi is not pressured to agree with whatever you say or do.

“You’ve never heard anything of mine,” Yoongi rebukes.

“Haven’t I, Gloss?” Hoseok laughs.

Yoongi’s expression is priceless. He left the underground business when he got rejected by your company. He hasn’t been called that in years.

“That’s right, I know my people,” Hoseok laughs. He didn’t recognize him at the cafe, but after you told him about the audition, he did some digging.

“Alright, I’ll go check it out,” Yoongi nods.

Maybe Hoseok was right. Perhaps an hour or two in a neutral studio can inspire or convince him. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he never envisioned himself working his whole life at the music store.

“Yoongi, come on, it’s our turn,” Jungkook calls over, holding a microphone.

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi returns to your apartment the morning after. The smell hits him as he exits the elevator- someone is in heat. He ignores it, but the closer he gets to your door, the harder it is to ignore. Realizing it’s coming from your apartment, he rushes in to find you pacing in the living room in distress.

“What are you doing here while Jungkook is in heat?” Yoongi hisses, staying by the door.

“Thank god you’re here, Yoongi! I don’t know what to do. This hasn’t happened before,” you cry, hugging your boyfriend.

With his arms around you, Yoongi drags you outside, closing the door behind you guys. The more distance between you and Jungkook, the better. If the smell is strong in the hallway, he can’t imagine being inside it. He fears the effect it can have on him if he breathes the scent for too long. It’s not uncommon for a hybrid’s heat to trigger another’s.

“What do you mean this is the first time it happens?” Yoongi asks. Jungkook is a 21-year-old hybrid. He must’ve gotten his heat around 7 or 8 years ago.

“Jungkook usually takes these pills to ease off his heat. He’s been taking them ever since he got his first one. I think he hasn’t been taking them ’cause he’s been spending more time in my apartment.” You try to explain, although you know very little about the subject, despite living with a hybrid for most of your childhood.

Jungkook’s bunny habits are well known in your family, and you’ve learned about hybrids, too, because of him. Heats, though, was always a subject Jungkook kept to himself because he didn’t feel comfortable sharing that part of his life with his sister. When the first one rolled around, it wasn’t so bad, and after your parents offered him the pills, he accepted. Since then, he hasn’t paid much attention to it.

It all makes sense to Yoongi now. The pills you talk about are expensive but highly effective. They basically stop a hybrid from having heat or make them asymptomatic. He’s never had the luxury of taking them, but he’s heard much about them. Enough to know that Jungkook’s heat will be more intense after not having it for so many years.

“This is bad, Blue!” Yoongi tells you, hands on your shoulders.

“What am I going to do? He’s in so much pain and won’t stop sweating and groaning!” You exclaim on the verge of tears.

“There is nothing to do,” Yoongi carefully says, “Pack a bag. We can go to my apartment while he rides this through.”

“There has to be something, Yoongi. I can’t just leave him like that!” You’re upset he would suggest leaving your brother behind in such conditions.

Your worry about Jungkook is blinding you. The gravity of the situation not making sense to you. So Yoongi takes it upon himself to explain, “He’ll be uncomfortable and in pain, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He’ll survive, and in a few days, he’ll be good as new. Your presence here can make things much worse, Blue.”

“How can you say that? I saw you when you were in heat, and I was with you. I hated seeing you like that. How do you expect me to ignore Jungkook’s pain and pretend it’s not there.” You interrupt him in distress.

“Because the only way he’ll feel relieved is for him to fuck someone. He needs to get off to relieve his temperature and relieve the pain. That’s a heat. And unless someone magically appears and volunteers, there’s nothing you can do,” Yoongi grits out, frustrated at the situation. Jungkook’s strong scent started to fuzz his brain.

“Yoongi! There has to be something….” You say, not believing Yoongi’s words.

He’s getting mad that you’re not listening, and his following words come out rough, “I already told you, have sex with Jungkook or get out.”

“I’m not doing that. He’s my brother!” You and Jungkook might not be related by blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to have sex with him. If you could, you would, but you don’t believe either can get through the mental block. Ruining your relationship with your brother is not in your plans any time soon.

“Adopted brother,” Yoongi points out. You hit him in the arm, angry at his unhelpful responses, which only gets him angrier.

“Fine, get him a hooker. That will get him feeling good in no time. Still, we have to leave.” Yoongi insists, desperate to get out of the building before he gets horny.

“He is not having sex with a stranger. I refuse!”

“Well, that only leaves me, and that’s not happening,” Yoongi replies, crossing his arms.

You pause your argument, thinking it wouldn’t be the most outrageous idea. If someone were to help him, Yoongi would be perfect for it. He’s a hybrid, too, who has had to go through his ruts mostly alone.

“Are you set on that?” You ask with a grimace. You feel bad asking this of Yoongi, but you’re desperate to help Jungkook.

He looks at you in disbelief, “You are not suggesting I have sex with your brother?”

“Yoongi, just help him for now. I know the first day is the worst. Just for today, help him, please.”

“Blue, do you understand what you’re saying?” He understands what you’re saying but is unsure you do. This is a lot, and the worst part is that he’s actually considering it. It must be Jungkook’s pheromones all in the air affecting his.

“Yes, I do. I know this isn’t romantic or anything. You’re only helping him.” you nod, decided.

“Once,” Yoongi grits out, a dead serious look on his face. “I’ll be helping him this once but never again.”

“Okay,” you nod, at a loss for words.

Yoongi shoves his keys in your hands, “Go to my apartment. I’ll get there later with your bag.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You speak before walking down the hallway. Before entering the elevator, you look back at Yoongi, who nods at the elevator, urging you to go. He doesn’t want you in the vicinity if he’s doing this.

He takes a minute to himself, gathering the courage to do this. All doubt disappears when he opens the door and breathes in Jungkook’s pheromones. He finds Jungkook’s room and opens the door. The bunny is lying face down in bed naked. His hips rutting into the bed to feel any type of relief. His back glistens with sweat, and his dark hair sticks to his neck.

“Hey, Kook,” Yoongi says, walking to the bed.

“Yoongi?” Jungkook says in a haze, propping himself up on his elbows, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. If he were in his right mind, he’d instantly stop and cover up. He didn’t want to, though. He had to make the pain disappear.

“I’m here to help. Is that okay?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Please,” Jungkook chokes, “It hurts so much.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Yoongi soothes him, a long finger trailing down his back. Reaching the base of his spine Yoongi tugs on the black cottontail. Jungkook whines thrusting harder against the mattress.

“Turn around,” Yoongi softly tells him.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I can’t-“

“If you don’t, then I can’t touch you, and you want me to touch you, right?” Yoongi asks him. Being in heat messes with every thought in your head. It makes hybrids think that even the smallest actions are impossible, and Jungkook suppressing his heat brings him back to step one.

With a groan Jungkook turns his body around, his cock bobs up and down as he settles on his back. Yoongi licks his lips, the bunny is so hard and ready to burst there’s a steady stream of precum coating his head.

Yoongi’s hand slides down Jungkook’s chest, admiring the hard muscle. It continues to trail down his abdomen until it reaches his pelvis. The younger boy’s hips rut, feeling Yoongi’s hands close to his cock.

Jungkook has not stopped moaning once, every little touch sending him waves of painful pleasure. He begs Yoongi to do anything, touch him, fuck him, suck him. Getting more comfortable between Jungkook’s legs, Yoongi starts stroking him. The bunny is hot and heavy in his palm. He spits in his hand for good measure, but it’s barely necessary. His thumb brushes over the dark pink tip, spreading the milky liquid down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, hand tugging at his hair and hips thrusting into Yoongi’s palm. His abs tense, showcasing the hard muscle underneath. It’s a sight for sore eyes that makes Yoongi’s pants tighten. Yoongi might’ve done this as a favor to you both, but he will enjoy this as much as he can.

“Look at me, Kook,” Yoongi calls the youngest’s attention, “Focus on me.”

The bunny’s hazy stare lands on the cat hybrid on top of him. He is also sweating, feeling the heat of the moment. His feline eyes are calculating, afraid of missing any of Jungkook’s response to his touch. The wet noise Yoongi’s hand makes as he flicks his wrist fills the room along with the bunny’s pleas.

Jungkook tries hard to keep his eyes on Yoongi, but when he feels his peak near, his eyes roll back, and his mouth opens. “That’s it, bunny, cum,” the cat hybrid encourages him, “You’ll feel so much better.”

Jungkook groans, feeling his peak, and it’s like some of the heat has dissipated. Ropes of white paint Yoongi’s hand and Jungkook’s stomach. Raising his hand to his lips, Yoongi licks the bunny’s cum, tasting him. Fuck, did he taste good. It would be a shame for Jungkook to miss it.

Leaning over, Jungkook Yoongi says, “Open your mouth, bunny.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand why but tentatively opens his mouth. Yoongi grabs his cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger and lets his saliva mixed with Jungkook’s cum, drip into the bunny’s mouth.

“Now swallow,” Yoongi orders him.

Jungkook obeys the cat hybrid, swallowing his spit. He never thought his own taste would arouse him and make him hard again in seconds. He blames it on the heat. With his temperature rising, Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s sides and flips them over. He kisses his sister’s boyfriend hard, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his pale neck, leaving a hard bite behind.

“Fuck,” Yoongi moans. He had forgotten that bunnies like to bite.

Jungkook needs to feel him close, touch him, taste him too. He takes off Yoongi’s hoodie and his t-shirt touching the older guy’s chest. He continues to kiss the cat hybrid, even biting his pouty lips. Yoongi lets him be in control for now. Jungkook needs to enjoy himself too.

Jungkook’s hard-on presses against Yoongi’s lower stomach, and feeling the skin-on-skin contact, Jungkook begins to thrust again, moaning into Yoongi’s mouth.

Jungkook is curious, curious about Yoongi and his body. He’s touched and kissed parts of him, but now he wants it all. With a goal in mind, Jungkook’s hand trails down the cat hybrid’s body to palm his length over his pants. Yoongi moans are swallowed by Jungkook, who continues to feverishly kiss him, but when he reaches for his belt, Yoongi stops him.

“Not today, bunny,” he breathes, the grip on Jungkook’s wrist tight, “Today, I get to use you as I please.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brown eyes filled with disappointment.

“You heard me,” Yoongi says, sliding out from under him, “Sit up.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yoongi kneels between his muscular legs.

Jungkook’s cock is equally hard as in the beginning, begging for attention. With a hand on Jungkook’s knee and another on his cock, Yoongi licks a stripe along the vein that runs up the shaft, instantly making Jungkook release a throaty moan.

“Look at me, bunny,” Yoongi purrs, “If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

Jungkook’s head snaps back down to stare at Yoongi, whose wet tongue licks the head of his cock. He coats the entire length with his spit with kisses and licks. Yoongi’s pink lips momentarily wrap around his cockhead as his tongue swirls the tip. He knows he’s teasing the poor bunny. It’s his way of pleasure to see the younger hybrid fall to pieces in splutters and stutters.

Yoongi teases him, going slow and shallow, drawing little whines from Jungkook’s swollen lips. Jungkook tries to push his cock more into Yoongi’s mouth, but the cat already sees it coming and pulls away.

“Yoongi, pl-ease,” Jungkook begs, teary-eyed. By now, he’s long forgotten about pleasing Yoongi as the fever inside of him gets higher.

“What’s that, Kook?” Yoongi feigns innocence, a string of saliva attaching him to Jungkook’s hard cock.

“D-don’t tease,” Jungkook stutters out. He tries to stroke himself in desperate need, only for Yoongi to stop him.

“So impatient,” Yoongi chastises, holding Jungkook’s wrist tightly, “Hands on your sides.”

Jungkook complains at the request, earning a glare from the cat hybrid, “If you’re not going to listen, I’ll leave,” he threatens. He’s just like his sister. For a moment, Yoongi entertains the idea of dominating you both simultaneously. What a treat it would be.

“No, no!” Jungkook exclaims, grabbing fistfuls of the crumpled bedsheets.

Yoongi smirks at the pretty bunny above him. His hair is messy from raking his fingers through it, long floppy ears falling to the sides, and cheeks flushed with arousal. He wants Jungkook to feel all the pleasure he can. While having sex without the rut is nice and fun, there’s something so satisfying about sex while in heat. No matter how small, every touch is amplified and can push you to the edge.

Now that Jungkook is obedient, Yoongi takes his length back into his mouth. He works getting most of Jungkook down his throat, Yoongi’s eyes water, but it doesn’t stop him. Bobbing his head to a steady rhythm, he sucks Jungkook off, his tongue occasionally dipping into the slit of his tip. The bunny is trying his best, the veins running up his arms popping from the tight grip on the bed. When Yoongi takes him deeper than before, the grip loosens as his right hand goes to the base of his cat ears.

Almost instantly, Yoongi purrs around his cock, enticing Jungkook to thrust up. It feels so good it’s overwhelming. With Jungkook pushing on his head Yoongi deep throats him, his nose brushing against the bunny’s base. Yoongi will never admit that while it hurts, he loves the feeling of a big cock down his throat.

With a few more bobs of Yoongi’s head, Jungkook bursts. His cum runs down the cat hybrid’s throat. Yoongi breathes heavily when he releases Jungkook. His eyes are red and watery, as are his nose and mouth. He continues to lightly lick Jungkook, entertained by the way his bunny ears twitch at the feeling.

Yoongi gets up from the floor as Jungkook falls back on the bed. The bunny hybrid is exhausted as his fever goes down to a normal temperature. Yoongi helps him lie back properly and covers him with the wrinkly bedsheet. Before Yoongi leaves the room, he brushes through Jungkook’s hair with his fingers, lightly rubbing the base of his bunny ears. The sleepy bunny makes an appreciative sound as his touch lulls him to sleep completely.

This is the worst of the heat. He should be able to take care of himself from tomorrow onwards. Yoongi leaves the food and water ready for Jungkook by the nightstand. Hopefully, when he’s awake, he’ll feel better.

Yoongi goes to your room to pack your bag. In there, your scent hits him mixed with Jungkook’s pheromones. If the bunnies had driven him mad, yours added to the mix just about ended him.

He lies in your bed by your pillow where your scent is strongest. It only takes him a second to undo his belt and pull his throbbing cock out of his pants. Spitting in his hand Yoongi flicks his wrist quickly, needing a release. He had his reasons for not letting Jungkook touch him, one being that it wouldn’t be fair for the bunny hybrid. He’d been in pain for too long. The other reason was you. He’d happily done this favor for you, but now you had to pay up.

Reaching a moment of clarity, Yoongi slows his pace until he stops right before his release. He stands from the bed, tucking himself in again uncomfortably, and prepares your bag. As soon as he gets to his apartment, he’ll have his way with you, and the pent-up frustration will be worth it.

○●○●○●○●○●

Almost a year into the relationship, you decide it’s time for Yoongi to meet your parents. You organize a nice dinner at your parent’s house, they don’t have to do anything you’ll be the one cooking and setting the table.

Yoongi would get there later, Jungkook as well. You thought it would be nice to have moral support. Unfortunately, you took so long to cook that Yoongi arrived while you were getting ready, which means that your dad got the pleasure of greeting him at the door.

“Ah, if it isn’t Yoongi,” your dad exclaims cheerily, opening the door wider for Yoongi.

“Hello, I got this for you,” Yoongi nervously hands him a bottle of wine. It’s the one you mentioned your dad likes.

“I was hoping it would be the flowers,” your dad jokes, happily taking the wine.

“Is that Yoongi?” A friendly voice calls from the kitchen. Your mom walks out, surprising Yoongi with a warm hug. He hands her the flowers, which she gushes about. “Such a polite boy, don’t be shy. We don’t bite, we’ll except for Jungkookie.”

Yoongi stifles a smile because doesn’t he know it. Not only has he witnessed Jungkook shamelessly biting you when you get distracted, but that day where he needed help with his heat he left Yoongi with a few nasty marks. Marks which you later covered with your own.

“Honey, I’ll be showing Yoongi my office. We’ll be back soon,” your dad says, patting Yoongi on the back.

Yoongi is nervous, terrified even. His cat ears flatten as he follows your dad to his office. He’s only heard good things about him from you, but how reliable is that? Of course, he’s good to you and Jungkook, his kids. Yoongi is a stranger.

Yoongi sits in one of the chair desks awkwardly, looking around the room. Your dad looks him up and down as if deciding on Yoongi. From looks alone, Yoongi seems like a good man, but he needs to make his concerns known.

“Why are you with my daughter?” He asks straight to the point, his friendly smile disappearing.

“Because I love her,” Yoongi responds as best as he can.

There are a million reasons why he is with you. You’re kind, pretty, intelligent, sexy, talented, honest, and so much more. Despite all the arguments you’ve had you’ve never brought the fact his a hybrid into it. All those qualities led him to love you, the most important reason he is with you.

“It has nothing to do with her job and position in the company? How it may benefit you, Yoongi?” Your dad asks. If he didn’t ask these questions, he wouldn’t be doing his job as a father. The older man needs peace of mind that Yoongi’s intentions are the right ones.

“No. I didn’t even know she worked there till two months ago. By then, I had already fallen in love with her. I wouldn’t take advantage of her that way even if I had known before. Blue is one of the kindest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

Your father’s tense posture relaxes, and his grin returns, “Good answer. I hope you understand why I had to ask the question. I am only a concerned father.”

“I do. Can I ask a question myself?”

“Go ahead.”

“You don’t mind that your daughter is dating a hybrid?” Yoongi insecurely asks.

“Not at all. I believe hybrids are equal, if not better, than regular humans. My children have the liberty of dating whoever they please, and I’ll approve as long as they are treated with love and respect.”

Hybrids have a good judge of character, and Yoongi can tell that he is honest and means what he says. Fear aside, he is happy to have had this conversation with your dad.

“Daddy, Yoongi?” You call them, walking in the direction of the office.

“In here, sweetheart,” your dad responds.

“Dad, stop questioning Yoongi. It’s time for dinner,” you tell him, shooting Yoongi a reassuring grin.

“I wasn’t questioning, just having a man-to-man conversation,” he says, walking out of the office.

“Mhm,” you say, rolling your eyes. He does this with each boyfriend you’ve brought home.

“Hi, handsome,” you greet Yoongi, holding out your hand for him to take. He dressed up for the occasion, wanting to impress. He succeeded.

“Hey, Blue,” he says, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” you peck him on the lips, brushing your thumb on his lips to get rid of the remaining lipstick.

“I heard that!” Your dad screams from the stairs with a laugh.

“Keep walking, old man,” you yell back, shaking your head with a smile.

Dinner was fun, and Yoongi felt like he was with family. Your family was very much like you, kind and accepting. Funny as hell, he smiled or laughed throughout most of the dinner. If he had to guess, he would’ve never known your dad was the CEO of a family company. He was very down to earth.

Not that he doubted, but your parents truly treated Jungkook as their own. The bunny hybrid has all of this family wrapped around his little finger. You grab his hand under the table and smile at him. He smiles back sincerely. He can see himself being part of this family for a long time. It heals the part of his broken heart that he thought was beyond repair.

“Let me go get dessert,” your mom announces, sanding from the table.

“I’ll help,” Yoongi pipes up, following the older lady to the kitchen.

“Now that I’ve got you here, I want to thank you,” your mom says as she cuts the chocolate cake you baked earlier.

“What for?” Yoongi asks, handing her the plates to place the cakes on.

“For helping our Jungkookie out,” she casually mentions.

Yoongi chokes on his own saliva, his mind going straight to him helping Jungkook through his heat. It was a given that it was something to keep to themselves. How close is Jungkook to his mom that he felt it was okay to tell her that Yoongi gave him not only a handjob but a blowjob? Furthermore, how can she be okay with her daughter’s boyfriend handing out favors like that to her son?

“He loves those damn vynils so much, he wouldn’t stop talking about how you gave him two limited edition ones,” she fondly laughs at her son.

“Oh, that. Yeah, no problem,” Yoongi sighs in relief. His spirit had left his body for a moment there.

“Let’s go before they start talking about the company. The dinner table is a no-work conversation zone,” your mom says, ushering Yoongi out of the kitchen as she hears her husband talking about numbers and beats.

○●○●○●○●○●

Tuesday, after dropping off lunch at your office Yoongi wanders to Hoseoks office, taking him up on his offer. He knocks, waiting for his new friend to open the door. Hoseok gives him a small tour of his studio and explains some of the newer equipment’s purposes to adjust Yoongi to the environment. Hoseok was right. This isn’t as intimidating as he’d thought. In fact, once he got the hang of it, inspiration returned to him.

“Go on, try and make a beat,” Hoseok encourages him. He already loves what Yoongi has to offer based on conversations alone. One of the reasons he left the company for a few months was for lack of inspiration. Although talented, none of the other producers offered something that spoke to him.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Yoongi tells Hoseok, knowing he is imposing on his work schedule.

“I have a meeting now, actually. It should take about two hours. Have fun,” Hoseok says, picking up his jacket from a small sofa off to the corner. Without looking behind him, he leaves Yoongi alone in the studio. Looking at the closed door, Yoongi shrugs and puts on the headphones, working on a melody that has been bothering him for the past two years. Might as well.

Getting the hang of the equipment, he falls deep into a creative flow. He barely notices time go by. The piano notes carry him to new places in his mind as they fall into place in the track. It’s like a dam has been broken down. All he has flowing down at torrential speeds, with no one there to stop him.

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump and tear the headphones from his ears. Heightened senses fail him as Hoseok stands behind him, looking amused at his startled expression.

“The meeting ran late. I thought you’d gone home. Are you okay?” Hoseok asks. His two-hour meeting turned into four. The project’s creators fell into discord about what creative direction they should take it.

“I’m okay. I didn’t notice it had been two hours,” Yoongi says, looking at his watch.

“It be like that sometimes,” Hoseok giggles. He’s found himself in that position before. Music tends to dominate the creator most times. “Want to show me what you got?”

Yoongi nods, turning on the chair to give Hoseok a pair of headphones. Hoseok expected something good but unpolished, considering Yoongi’s time away from producing. The first note of the track proves him wrong. Hoseok does not speak for the duration of the track taking in the masterpiece Yoongi created.

Hoseok is amazed Yoongi managed to inspire him more than most of the producers that work in the company. It’s raw and heartfelt, honest. It comes from a place of experience.

“You did this in four hours?” Hoseok asks, amazed.

“I mean, I’ve had part of the melody for years, but the rest, yeah,” Yoongi says nervously. Does Hoseok think it’s trash?

“It’s phenomenal. You have to consider joining the company!”

“Seriously?”

“Yoongi, you’ve got me feeling more with that track than I have in a good while,” Hoseok confesses.

Hoseok is boosting Yoongi’s confidence and ego. He forgot the effect his music can have on people. It’s addicting.

Someone interrupts them by knocking on the door and peaking their head in. It’s a wolf hybrid Yoongi recognizes. “Namjoon?”

“Hi, Yoongi!” The hybrid smiles widely, fist-bumping him.

“I see you two know each other,” Hoseok says, searching for the hard drive Namjoon came for.

“Yeah, Yoongi sometimes comes to the concerts and helps sell tapes,” Namjoon says.

“Well, his girlfriend recruited you,” Hoseok tells him.

“Blue recruited him?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“Yeah, she bought one of his tapes from your store and liked what he had to offer,” Hoseok explains, handing Namjoon the hard drive.

“She hunted me down until I said yes,” Namjoon laughs, remembering that moment from months ago.

“Can I ask about the conditions of working here? With us being hybrids and all?” Yoongi asks Namjoon. While Hoseok has helped him so much, he needs the insight of a hybrid who works at the company to fully convince him.

“I can honestly say this job is one of the few that treats their workers equally. So far, I haven’t had a single bad or sketchy situation. If you have an opportunity to join, take it! It’d be nice to have you on the music scene again.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi has much to consider, but the more time he spends here, the more convinced he is.

○●○●○●○●○●

“What would you say if I accepted your dad’s job offer?” Yoongi asks you one night while you are getting ready for bed.

“I’d say I’m thrilled and proud of you, Yoongs,” you grin at him through the mirror.

“You wouldn’t mind working with me?” He says as he walks up behind you, eyes locked on you through the reflection.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, “I know it might seem like too much, but I assure you we won’t see each other so much that it’ll come to that.”

You and Hoseok barely see each other in the office since you mostly work on different projects. While Hoseok is a producer, he is also an artist, so he mainly works on his own stuff. On the other hand, you work for female artists and girl groups.

“I’m more worried about you being sick of me,” he jokes, throwing an arm over your chest to pull you close to him.

“Don’t be. I love you. When I get sick of you will be the day hell freezes over,” you say, looking up at him.

“I want to work on something that will make you proud and won’t make you regret your decision,” he whispers. He wants to be successful for you. You deserve only the best.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Yoongi. No matter what you do, ill be proud of it, even if it’s a kid’s song about tomatoes.” You think there is nothing Yoongi can do to disappoint you.

“I don’t think the parents will appreciate my swearing,” he admits with a laugh, knowing how much he swears.

You laugh along, “Me either. Maybe that will set you apart from the competition. Oh! How about a cursing alphabet?!”

“You’re a genius,” Yoongi fake gasps, making you giggle. He sweetly kisses your cheek, “Let’s go to bed.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi hires a new employee for the Music Store in a matter of weeks and begins his new job. As you said, he doesn’t get to see you much, if only brief glimpses in the hallway before you get pulled away to a meeting or studio.

With Hoseoks and Namjoon’s help, he quickly gets the hang of everything in the studio. Currently, he’s a producer. He creates music he likes and collaborates with artists who want to use his songs.

It’s been smooth sailing; his supervisors and senior producers are happy with his efficiency and creativity. They often seek him out for input on work of their own. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

He delves into his work, giving it his all. It’s everything he ever wanted and more. But with that also comes pressure. Pressure to improve and better himself. Like he wants to upstage himself every day, and that takes time.

○●○●○●○●○●

A Saturday morning two months after Yoongi began working at the company, you wake up to your boyfriend sitting at your desk working away.

He can’t hear you, as you call him, because of the massive headphones over his ears. You let the sheets fall off your naked body and walk over to him, sitting on his lap.

“Morning, Blue,” he says, kissing your head and hugging your waist, preventing you from sliding off his lap. Yet his eyes stay trained on the computer.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, ignoring the computer to kiss his neck.

“Just finishing something up,” he sighs as his grip tightens on your hip.

“I was thinking we could go out today to the countryside, drive around and get some fresh air,” you suggest, brushing his hair away from his eyes. His cat ears flicker on the top of his head with the gesture.

“Give me an hour to finish this?” He asks, looking down at you.

“A kiss first,” you say.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a smile and leans down to press his lips against yours. You pull him closer by the neck, deepening the kiss. You’ve missed him. Now that he doesn’t work at the store, he doesn’t have as much time to spare.

You see each other every day, mainly in the mornings and late at night when he returns from work. You haven’t said anything about the matter giving him time to adjust to his new job and schedule.

“Alright, one hour,” you say, standing from his lap. Before you walk away, you feel a smack to your butt. “Hey!”

“Couldn’t resist,” Yoongi laughs as you rub your butt cheek to soothe the sting.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you pout, escaping to the bathroom.

Yoongi quickly got ready one hour later, and you both headed off to the countryside. Yoongi drives your car with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.

“Is it everything you expected it to be?” You ask Yoongi about his job.

“It’s better than I ever thought, Blue. And I have you to thank,” he says, squeezing your thigh.

“I mean, I only cleared up a misunderstanding. You’re doing all the work, Mr. Genius,” you grin.

Everything you’ve heard about Yoongi has been good. As a company member, it makes you happy that he works there, and as his girlfriend, it makes you proud. Everyone can see how amazing he is, and he’s all yours.

“Tell me, what songs have I heard that you’ve worked on,” he asks you.

The day was yours to enjoy, and you did. You needed this time with Yoongi. You had been so used to spending so much time together that you missed him like crazy.

Yoongi needed this too you are his inspiration, after all.

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi taps his foot on the floor of the elevator. The company’s CEO, aka your dad, called him up to his office. He sounded normal on the phone not mad, so maybe it’s just a catch-up?

Still, his survival instincts tell him he’s in trouble and should run. He shoves them to the back of his head as the elevator dings and opens its doors.

The secretary tells him to go on ahead into the office. Your dad is there, ruffling through paperwork and signing documents.

“Yoongi, you’re here, good!”

“Is everything alright?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the seat.

“Yes and no,” he says, folding his hands on the desk.

“Oh?” Yoongi simply responds over the knot in his throat.

“Relax, Yoongi, it’s nothing too bad,” the man reassures him,” I really like that track you submitted, as did many of the artists.”

“Really?” Yoongi says with a small smile.

“Yes, the problem is no one has managed to capture it as well as you,” the CEO explains.

“I’m sorry. Should I continue working on it? Submit a new track?” Yoongi’s insecurity causes him to ramble and miss the CEO’s point.

“No, Yoongi. I was actually thinking of you performing them,” he explains.

“But I’m not an artist; I’m a producer.”

“That’s true, but there’s one step more to become an artist, only if you’d like that,” the man says, offering Yoongi what most would believe is a promotion.

“You want me to be an artist?” Yoongi questions, did he hear right?

“Yes, much like Hoseok or Namjoon. You already have this track, and I know you’ve been working on others with those you can create an album,” the man suggests encouragingly. “What do you say?”

“What if people don’t like me?” Yoongi wonders.

“We can do a test, arrange for you to open for Hoseok’s show, and get a feel of the vibe,” your dad says.

“I’ll do it,” Yoongi nods, “Thank you, sir.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Depending on who you ask, the CEO’s decision was both good and bad. For Yoongi, it’s a dream come true. After he performed his single in Hoseok’s concert, it was clear that most loved the song and the passion Yoongi brought to the stage. You were in the crowd, cheering him on louder than anyone.

But with great power comes great responsibility. If Yoongi was a workaholic as a producer, he’s even more so as an artist working on his new album. He feels the need to prove a point and create a near-perfect album.

His days and nights are spent at the studio, and whenever he’s not there, he’s also at home working.

You have supported him every step, offering him advice when he asks. You make sure he eats at least two meals a day and sleeps a few hours a day.

As the weeks go by, it’s like your relationship has been on the back burner and is no longer a priority. You let it pass, knowing this is important to Yoongi. He’ll snap out of it soon enough.

As five o’clock comes around one Friday night, you go to Yoongis studio. You both get off work at the same time maybe you could go home together as well. Yoongi has been staying till nearly midnight in the studio this whole week and leaving home stupidly early. The only indication that he slept with you being the kisses on the forehead he gives you when he gets home.

You knock on the door in case he is in a meeting, but his voice lets you know you can go in. He’s slouched in his rolling chair as a beat replays on the speakers.

“You okay, Yoongs?” You ask, having the feeling that he’s not.

“Frustrated,” he says pointedly over the music.

Coming up behind him, you hug him as best you can. He grabs one of your arms around him and kisses the back of your hand.

“Take a break from it,” you say, “Let’s go home. You can come back Monday.”

“I can’t, Blue. I’m so close to finishing it,” Yoongi responds.

That seems to be his usual excuse nowadays ‘it’s almost done,’ and yet it’s not a lie. Yoongi just has a problem with self-control. As soon as he finishes a track, he starts another one.

Taking a more straightforward approach, you push his chair away from the desk, turning him around to face you. “You’re taking a break, Yoongi.”

“I don’t know, Blue,” he says, unconvinced.

“Yoongi, please,” you beg, sitting on his lap, “I need you,” you whisper in his ear.

Those words alone are enough to get Yoongi fired up. Guilt also seeps into his bones as he knows he’s neglected you a little. It’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve last been together, a rare occurrence. At a certain point in you’re relationship, you had sex every day of the week. He comes to the conclusion he has to pleasure you here and now. He can’t leave his Blue like this for another second.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close to kiss you. The kiss soon turns frantic with wet tongues and harsh bites. Yoongi’s hand leaves your hip as the other caresses one of your thighs. Slowly it stops at your knee and gently forces it apart to trail his hand under your skirt. He first squeezes the inside of your thigh, eliciting a soft moan from your swollen lips. With his index and middle finger, he presses your center over the thin material of your underwear. Yoongi works his fingers around the area, feeling the wetness seep out of you.

“More,” you sigh over his pink lips. Pulling your panties to the side, he traces your outer lips with his fingers making you needier by the second. A series of begs come out of your mouth, urging him to fuck you with his fingers at least. Light as a feather, he touches your sopping center up and down, toying with your clit. Your hips twitch the slightest bit, pleasing him beyond extremes. He loves to see you struggle.

Dragging his index finger down your folds, he pushes his finger in. He groans into your mouth, forgetting how oh-so-tight you are. “Yes, Yoongi, just like that,” you sensually moan as he moves his finger in and out. Soon he adds another finger, and he feels as if his fingers almost suffocate with how tightly your gripping them. “Fuck Blue, such a tight pussy. Will you be able to take my cock?”

“I can do it, Yoongi,” You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. Yoongi scissors his fingers, stretching you out. He can’t wait to be inside of you. His cock becomes rock hard, straining under his tight jeans at the thought of using your pussy. How could he let so much time pass? He’s an idiot.

“You should cum over my fingers first,” he murmurs, using his thumb to rub her clit in fast circles. It’s his goal to make her cum around his fingers first. Feel her walls pulse and tighten even more.

You squirm on top of him, chasing your release. With a few more thrusts of his curling fingers, you become undone. Your body uncontrollably tenses on top of him, your teeth biting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, causing him to moan. He hates to admit he likes that more than expected.

“Good girl, Blue,” Yoongi tells her, pulling his fingers out of her and spreading them to see the slickness between them. Your eyes watch as he places his fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Fuck,” you moan out at the erotic sight. You need his cock now. Standing from the uncomfortable chair, you undo the zipper of your skirt and let it fall to the ground, along with your shirt. Next goes your bra and panties, which you throw with your foot in his direction. He is quick to catch them and stuff them in his pocket. It might not be the first time he sees you wholly naked, but what a sight you are. Standing as you came into the world in his studio confidently, you have curves in all the right places and perky tits with pink nipples topping them off.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” You say with a wicked grin.

“You’re perfect.” not the first and hopefully not the last time Yoongi grabs his phone and snaps a picture. It doesn’t beat the real deal, but it does get him off whenever you’re not around.

Not wanting to be left behind, Yoongi removes his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion. To tease your needy ass, he takes his time unbuttoning his jeans while keeping his eyes focused on you. You’re biting your lip and playing with one of your nipples as he does. Finally, he eliminates the last layer of clothing, leaving him bare in front of you. You moan at the sight of him. His cock big and thick, a vein running along its length, and his tip almost red. Wetness coats your thighs, your mind plays too many scenarios to comprehend.

Both take rapid steps towards the other and meet in the middle with a searing kiss with tongues twisting together in a dance. You roam your hands over his arms, pecs, and toned stomach. His black tail brushes against your side at the same time. Sneakily you grab his cock in your hands, pumping it a few times. Yoongi gasps, breaking their kiss as you touch his sensitive head, spreading his precum on his length. He leads you to the small leather couch in his office and makes you straddle him. “Are you ready, Blue?” He asks, rubbing his tip back and forth on your slit, getting it wet with your slick.

“Just do it, please,” you beg, touching his shoulders. Yoongi lines his cock with your entrance and slowly pushes you down on him. You feel inch after inch entering you. You missed the feeling of him stretching you out. All you can do is hold onto his strong shoulders and moan.

Yoongi has to concentrate hard on not finishing too soon. The way your warm walls feel around him is excruciatingly good. He takes a moment to compose himself before he begins to slowly and deeply thrust up into you. “That’s it, Blue. Take it all,” he groans.

“Fuck, Yoongi feels so good. I missed you,” you sob into his ear.

The room is humid, with sounds of moans and the slapping of skin. Yoongi picks up the pace, moving your hips to the rhythm he set to fuck harder into you. You bounce on top of him, sweat trailing down your neck and into your chest. Leaning forward, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling repeatedly. He swears he can feel you get wetter as it coats his cock and the top of his thighs.

“You’re driving me insane, Blue.” He’s losing control. There is no way he’s lasting much longer. The closer he gets, the more irregular his thrusts become. With his fingers digging into your hips, he shoots his load inside you as you moan at the sensation of being filled. It warms you up, and with his cock still inside you, you feel full and satisfied. You don’t care at the moment you didn’t get to finish, you relish being this close to Yoongi.

Yoongi lays limp under her for a second, eyes scrunched and teeth biting his lower lip. You spread kisses on his jaw and neck, leaving little marks behind that will fade by morning. His skin is sweaty yet delicious as you lick up the column of his neck. Tugging his lip away from his teeth, you softly kiss him, lips slotting together flawlessly.

Being the gentleman he is, Yoongi unexpectedly gets up, wraps your legs around him, and sits you on his desk. He pulls out of you and observes his seed seeping out of your pink pussy. Kneeling on the floor, he then licks up your slit. You cry out from the sudden pleasure and sink your fingers in his hair, causing him to purr. Locking eyes with you, he pushes his tongue into you, tasting a mix of you and him. He rubs your clit as he licks until you can barely speak.

“O-oh my g-god, kitty,” you mewl, tilting your head back and propping yourself up with a hand before you collapse on the control panel.

The way your body reacts assures Yoongi you’re close. Speeding up his movements, his lips wrap around your clit and suck. Finally, as you climax, he bites down gently on your bundle of nerves amplifying whatever you were feeling before. With toes curled and no control of your body, you push Yoongi away before you pass out from the pleasure.

Coming down from your high, you look at Yoongi and begin laughing, “That was fucking great.”

“I had to make up for lost time,” Yoongi chuckles, standing between your legs and hugging you.

“Let’s go home?” You plead with your eyes.

“Let’s go home, Blue,” he says, playing with a strand of your hair.

○●○●○●○●○●

You give your keys to your car to the valet and walk into the fancy restaurant. Your parents had invited you to dinner to catch up, Yoongi was supposed to come but last minute, said he couldn’t because he had a lot going on.

What you hoped was only a phase has become routine. Too many times, Yoongi has canceled on you or stood you up. He sleeps in your apartment but gets home exhausted and barely speaks to you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

You thank the waiter as he pulls your chair out for you and pushes you in. Your parents are already sitting with a glass of wine.

“How are you, honey?” Your mom asks sweetly.

“I’m okay,” you respond, trying to pretend you are okay when in reality, you’re not yourself.

You never wanted to become the girl dependent on her boyfriend. You like to believe you’re not her. Then why is Yoongi’s absence affecting you so much? You’re known at work for your cheery, happy songs, yet all you’ve written for the past few weeks have been sad songs. They are bangers, but not what your artists require.

As soon as you walked in, your mom knew something was off. You’re not carrying yourself as you usually do, your shoulders are slumped, and you’re looking down at the ground as you walk.

“Where’s Yoongi? I thought he was coming.” She asks, immediately knowing the problem.

“He had a lot going on in the studio,” you repeat his excuse, swirling the wine served in your glass.

“I must say he has exceeded all expectations. I expect his album to be a hit,” your dad says excitedly, none the wiser.

“I’m happy to hear that. He’s so worried over it and is overworking himself,” you force a smile, “Just now, Yoongi was saying he was behind on a track.”

“Behind? Yoongi is ahead of schedule. I’ve told him to take a break,” your dad scoffs, looking over the menu.

“What?” You ask, meeting his gaze. All this time, he’s been telling you he’s behind. It’s one of the reasons you haven’t confronted him. You want him to do well, after all.

“At the speed he’s going, we can release his album two months before scheduled,” your dad shrugs.

“Good,” you say dryly.

Immediately after dinner, you rush back into the studio, finding Yoongi still holed up there. You slam the door open, startling him. He looks at you up and down, seeing you all dressed up, beautiful.

“How was dinner?” He asks, turning back around to face the screen. Missing your response, he turns back around, “What’s wrong?”

“Two months ahead? What the fuck, Yoongi?” You yell at him, arms crossed over your chest.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, standing from his chair to come closer to you.

With each step he takes forward, you take one back, “Your album. My dad just told me you’re ahead of schedule.”

“Well, yeah, but there is still so much work to do,” Yoongi responds sincerely as if there’s nothing wrong with his confession.

“I’ve let you do as you pleased, thinking you were still adapting, getting used to the industry, but you’ve been holed up in here, ignoring me because you want to?” You ask him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your throat.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” he shakes his head, trying to reach out to you.

“Yoongi, when was the last time we went on a date? Hell, the last time we had breakfast together?” You ask him, knowing it’s been far too long.

Yoongi stays silent, confirming your thoughts. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he was hired.

“Exactly, I can’t even remember when we had a proper conversation that wasn’t about work,” you say, frowning. You tried to ignore all the red flags but no more. This isn’t good for you or him.

“Blue, you don’t understand,” he begins saying.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You yell as your fists clench at your sides, “Min Yoongi, I’ve been working here for far longer than you have, and I have never once made you a second priority. I’ve always made time for you and checked up on you. My life is not my job; it’s only part of it. I understand this is your dream, and I want it for you so badly, Yoongi. I’ve been rooting for you all this time, and I still am. But I didn’t know that in achieving your dream, you would give me up. I want you to succeed, and I want to be by your side when you do. I want to be there for you in your new life, in your ups and downs. I want to be a part of us. But if you can’t commit to me, if you don’t let me be there for you, then what are we even doing?” Your eyes are welled with tears when you finish speaking. You refuse to let them fall.

You stand there vulnerable, letting Yoongi into your thoughts, and all he says is, “This is what I’ve always wanted, Blue.”

This. Not Us. Yoongi doesn’t want you that much is clear.

You don’t have any more fight in you. You’re tired of waiting on him. If he doesn’t want you, why stay?

“If you let me walk out, I’m not coming back.”

You turn around, walking toward the door. Yoongi stays quiet through it all. He thinks this is for the best. You are right, he’s been neglecting you. It’s not fair for either of you. He hates seeing you go, he loves you with all he has, but this is his one chance. The only opportunity to make everything right.

You beg for him in your head to call out your name. All you want is for Yoongi to stop you and make you stay. You could go home together and forget all of this happened. It’s Yoongi’s choice, and he chose to see you close the door behind you.

To think tomorrow was your first anniversary.

END OF PART 1

PART 2 COMING SOON

Taglist: @its-yagirl-raelynn @severecatsheep @hyunjingin @kikiisda1 @xjiminsthighsx @seoul9711 @lovelytaes-blog @wittyreader @blackdriedroses @innebulae @sugak00kie03 @tokiodori @hemmofluke @strxwbloody @clevercoley @ysljoon @hajimaoppaa @onlythebest-106 @enchanting-coffee @mrskimjoon @rinkud @belikejk @goldietigers294 @petalsofink @bangtan4everr @fanficscuziranout

If you want to be added comment, send me a message or ask!

[vodika-vibes]

Heyyyy!!!!

Can I have a Cody finds out/being told that f!reader is pregnant? To make things more complicated lol f!reader is a jedi

Idk where this came from tho… if you don’t have the time or inspiration it’s fine, I love u 🤍

And A Baby Makes Three...

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, and now you have to tell Cody.

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Word Count: 996

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: hihi! Thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

You frown at yourself in the mirror and pull your robe tight across your stomach. It’s not obvious yet, at least, and you suppose, with a little clever misdirection with the force, people might not notice the baby bump at all.

At least, you hope so.

You’ve been the Jedi General of the 212 for over a year and a half now. And while no one had been happy when the order was given, in hindsight you have to admit that it made sense.

After all, Obi-Wan was a negotiator. He was at his most effective using his words to convince both parties to come to an agreement. You, however, had spent the majority of your jedi career careening from one civil war to the next.

You know military strategy like you know the back of your hand.

And, with the sudden death of Palpatine, and the startling knowledge that he had been pulling the strings on both sides of the war…well, having the skilled Negotiator sitting in meetings day in and day out was far more important than having him on a warship.

Of course, he doesn’t seem to be doing the greatest job at bringing about an end to the war, since it’s still going on.

You release the front of your robes with a sigh.

Honestly, what is the point of even having that implant if it’s not going to work like it’s supposed to. You fold your arms over your chest, and tilt your head back as you try to gather your thoughts.

You need to tell Cody, obviously. Mostly because the baby is his, and partly because the fact that you’re going to be pregnant is going to have to change the way the battalion approaches any upcoming battles.

You release a sigh and rub the back of your neck, trying to ease the tension before it turns into a headache. It’s not going to work, the only person who seems to have the ability to massage away your tension headaches is Cody, and he’s busy.

You hear the familiar sound of your door code being keyed in, and you turn towards the door, or maybe not. The door slides open, silently, and Cody steps into the room, and allows the door to slide shut behind him.

Everyone on the ship knows about your relationship with him, but it’s better to not show it off.

Tension drains out of his body as he sets his helmet on the table next to the door, and you smile sympathetically, “Rough day?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” He glances at you, and then takes a moment to remove the top part of his armor, before he crosses the room to slide his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, “We got word from Fox, there’s been no truce agreement yet.” He mumbles.

“So another month of war,” You say with a sigh.

“So another month of war.” Cody agrees, pulling back to press his forehead against yours, “They’re thinking of sending us back to Umbara.”

“Until we get actual orders, let’s just hope that that’s a rumor,” You reply softly as you reach up to soothingly card your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” His eyes close as he relaxes into your touch, “How are you feeling? You woke up pretty sick this morning.”

You smile wryly, though it goes unnoticed for the moment.

“Told you that you shouldn’t have eaten Boil’s experiment. You’re lucky a small bout of nausea is all you got,” Cody continues.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You defend.

“Cyare, it was moving.”

“That…is true.” You admit, grimacing as you remember Boil’s meal, “But he was so excited to cook-”

“You don’t have to keep humoring my brothers, cyare. We already like you.” Cody mumbles.

“I genuinely like your brothers, Cody. I like seeing them happy.” You say lightly, “But, as it happens, I wasn’t sick because of last night's dinner.”

His eyes snap open and he scans your face, “You weren’t?”

“No. I wasn’t.” You trail your hand across his cheek, “And I’m afraid I’m going to be sick for a bit.”

His brow furrows, “Do we need to go to the Medbay?”

You huff out a breath, “That probably won’t hurt, but I need to talk to you first.”

“Okay?”

There are a million different ways you can say this, but you think that, in this situation, the hard facts are the easiest, “My implant failed. I’m pregnant.”

Cody blinks at you, his jaw slightly slack.

“You-...really?”

“Really.” You confirm, “The force doesn’t lie.”

He blinks at you again, and his gaze drifts to your stomach, “A baby,” Cody sounds stunned and a bright grin crosses his face, “That’s…that’s wonderful! I’m going to be a dad!” And then the smile fades, “Oh…shit. This is going to change how we handle missions, isn’t it?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. I’m going to get fat. Which means no more vents.”

“It means you’ll have to start staying back at the command tent.”

You purse your lips, “I do not like that.”

“You don’t have to like it. But you do have to accept it.” Cody replies, and then he kisses you, a series of quick, loving kisses, and when he pulls away he sets his hands on your shoulders, “Okay! We’re going to Helix.”

“Can’t we go later?” You whine, even as you allow him to direct you towards the door.

“Nope.” Cody keys open the door and propels you into the hall, “Because, cyare, Helix is going to have to learn a whole new branch of medicine to help keep you healthy. Two, even, because he’s not a pediatrician either.”

“...now I feel kind of guilty.”

“He’ll get over it. Maybe.” Cody says easily, “Or, if he’s angry, it’ll be at me and not you.”

You eye him suspiciously, and Cody’s smile is a bit too innocent for you to believe it, “You’re fragile, cyare.”

Your jaw drops, “I am not!”

[lonely-lost-soul]

Little Fox

(C!Fundy x Reader)

Request 12: Hey if you're making a request, do you do c!Fundy? If so, can I get a Fundy x half fox shapeshifter!reader where fundy finds an injured full fox!reader, and takes her home to patch her up without knowing that she's a shifter ówò? Context, the reader can shift into three forms: full fox, half and half(fox legs, tail, ears, fangs), and fully human. Thank you have a blessed day!!!

Requested By: Anonymous

Moving away from L’manburg or what was once L’manburg was one of the best decisions Fundy has ever made. Did it get lonely from time to time, sure, but at least he was finally at peace. He was away from his ghost of a father and away from the drama of everyone else fighting and the looming sense of death that lingered over everyone that lived in the once-prosperous nation. It was quiet and he was happy to be left alone, well, mostly alone. There was one exception, a snow-white fox that trotted around his house from time to time, curious (e/c) watching him with intent. He had always felt a connection to foxes considering he was part fox, he hated seeing them hurt or starving or treated with disrespect, so he kept them around. However the white fox didn’t seem to pay him any mind other than silently watching and wandering around his home, he started placing food out for the fox. This went on for a few months until one night something felt off. Fundy kept glancing out the window, almost like he was expecting to see someone but no one popped up until he remembered his little buddy. He didn’t know why it sent him so on edge, it was just a random arctic fox maybe it was the way the food was left untouched or the pull he felt to go the woods, but he grabbed his coat and stepped into the forest.

The first thing he noticed was the small animal prints littering the snow, there seemed to be some sort of scuffle. Worry entered his veins and his ears pressed flat against his head, he journeyed deeper into the forest and noticed little droplets of blood. Fundy adjusted his hat nervously and followed the blood droplets, crumpled on the ground in front of his feet was a blood-stained fox. The once pure white coat of the fox was stained with red splotches a big gash was torn from its side, Fundy felt nauseous. The wind seemed to blow against his exposed ears, almost urging him to pick up the fox and take it home. He reached out and picked the fox up in his arms and held it close, the wind blew again, his eyes widened a little in surprise, the wind seemed to whisper a thank you.

Back at the house he laid the fox down on his couch and began to patch up her wounds. Hopefully, she wouldn’t attack him in the morning, be too freaked out, he wrapped the bandages around the wound stopping the flow of blood. He just prayed his foxy friend would be alive come the morning light. Fundy flicked the lights off and went to sleep in his bedroom, even though all the windows were shut and locked tight he still felt that odd breeze tickle the tufts of his ears. ‘Take good care of her’ it seemed to whisper, his heart thudded in his chest as he snuggled under the covers. The morning sun streamed through his windows, blinding the hybrid slightly, he groaned loudly and sat up in bed. He ran his sharp nails through his hair tussling it a little bit, trying to calm the rat’s nest down. As snapped to consciousness fully when he noticed footsteps coming from his living room, very human-sounding footsteps. Fundy tensed and hopped out of bed storming into the room, a dagger in hand. He let out a startled shriek seeing a beautiful half-naked young woman standing in the middle of the room. However, he couldn’t even focus on that, he was more focused on the snow-white fox ears that sat atop her head, the fluffy tail behind her, and the fox-like legs.

She was like him.

“Fundy right?” She sent him a crooked smile, sharp fangs very visible, making him feel all types of things. “Names, (Y/n) and you saved my life last night.”

“You- Fox?! but- human-” His hands tangled in his orange hair mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that he had probably saved a forest spirit. “No shirt!” he sputtered feeling soft hands take his own, he noticed a smile on her lips, their eyes locked together,

“I’m a shifter. A pleasure to officially meet you.” He felt you squeeze his palms and he swallowed thickly,

“Shifter?”

He watched you nod tail swishing from side to side, you were very happy to be talking to him it seemed, Fundy felt oddly honored. “I have three forms! Full fox, half fox, and fully human,” You explained holding up three fingers on your hand. “Usually full fox is easier but as you can see,” You motioned to the bandages covering your chest, “it’s not without risks.”

“Hold the phone you’re telling me the fox I’ve been feeding-”

“Yup! That was me!” You giggled as his cheeks went red, “I appreciated it.”

“I gave you dog food! I’m so sorry, oh my god!” He sputtered out completely mortified by the situation. You let out a roaring laugh, it was very reminiscent of that of a fox but he supposed that, that made sense. He watched you dip your head and nuzzle underneath his chin, once again he felt his entire face burn red, your ears were so soft, the fur tickling his chin.

“It’s okay, I didn’t eat any of that. Just pretended.” You reassured lifting your head to once again meet his eyes. “Soooo...you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just call you handsome?” He felt the blush spread down onto his neck,

Oh no, she was so cute.

“Fundy! I’m Fundy.” He nodded more stiffly than he wanted too suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were to one another. You blinked after a few minutes peaking around his shoulder, oh shit was his tail wagging? A bright smile spread across your cheeks “Laugh it up okay! Not every day I get to have a cute fox girl nuzzle against me alright!” Your ears fell flat against your head, he watched pink spread across your cheeks, score.

“Cute?” You meekly whispered you pulled away a little to grab at your tail shyly, “Thank you.”

He was going to die, you were going to be the death of him.

After that first encounter, you, the real you, had become a staple of his life. You had moved with him a few days after showing your more human form to the hybrid. You knew how to cook which made him swoon, it tasted divine, he was tired of being alone. You made him feel like he still had hope, you were his family now even after only knowing you for such a short amount of time. There was an odd sort of bond the two of you had, he was happy to have someone understand him, on a level that no one has ever been able to before, especially not his father. Days rolled into weeks and weeks turned into months, it was about eight months in when Fundy finally confessed to you.

You’d spent the day away from home, in your full fox form, saying you needed to stretch your legs and Fundy let you go. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a mess all day worrying about your well-being all day, he barely could get anything done, so when he saw your white fur streak through the trees that night he knew you were home. He ran out onto the stones of the path and called out your name, he watched your ears twitch and turned towards him. He felt his tail begin wagging ecstatically and he could see yours begin to do the same, you charged headfirst towards him shifting as you run, as you arrived he held out his arms and you jumped right on in them. He felt your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you into the air. He spun you around as he laughed,

“I missed you, Dee!” You purred out happily leaning back a little bit in his arms, he still held you above the ground.

“I missed you too Dearheart,” Fundy whispered looking up at your sparkling eyes it was then, with your white fur shining in the moonlight that he realized he was in love with you. “(Y/n)?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You breathed out softly, cheeks pink, ears twitching, “I’d like that very much.”

So, he did.

Two years being together of being together was finally when Wilbur- or ghostbur- decided to visit his son. You were outside in the garden, tending to some of Fundy’s vegetables deadset on using some of the fresh ones to make soup for tonight. You were in your human form so you didn’t get your white fur covered in dirt, so you didn’t hear the ghost coming close to the house until he was leaning over your shoulder.

“Hello!”

You screamed like a little kit throwing your basket through the ghost who shivered at the foreign feeling.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The ghost apologized adjusting the round glasses on his face. “I heard my son Fundy lives around here but I must be mistaken!”

“Are you...you’re Wilbur aren’t you?”

“Oh! You’ve heard of me! Was it my music, please say yes!” The ghost’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, he shrunk a little as he watched you shake your head, “oh…”

“I’m-”

“(Y/n)! I heard you scream, you alright?” Fundy peeked his head out the door eyes going big seeing his dead father standing beside you. Wilbur looked between the both of you before a tiny smirk spread across his face,

“Ohhhhhh, I see now.” Wilbur nodded watching his son’s face go red, “My little champion is all grown up! With a beautiful human to mind you!”

“Er...not exactly.” You mumbled, allowing your ears and tail to pop up from your head, Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock and awe.

“She’s like you!” Wilbur gaped reaching up to touch your ears, you flinched a little, and Fundy snarled at his father. “Sorry, sorry,” He pulled his hand back with a sheepish smile Fundy finally walked over to the both of you, pushing you behind him only slightly.

“What’re you doing here dad?” His voice was gruffer than you’ve ever heard it, his tail was puffed up in a way you’ve never seen before from your boyfriend.

He was on edge.

Wilbur shuffled a little fumbling with a piece of something blue in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on my son. No one’s heard from you for a while we’re all getting a little worried. I love you so-”

“Dad.” He groaned pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose pinching it, “look. I appreciate you’re all worried but I’m happier here.”

“But you’re all alone out here! It’s not good for anyone’s health, especially not a young fox!”

“Excuse you?” Your eyes narrowed in offense, “I lived out here all my life.” You bristled in frustration, “I turned out fine.” Wilbur eyed you warily and Fundy squeezed your palm tightly, “I did!”

“I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just looking out for my son.”

“No offense but I think he can look after himself just fine.” You shot right back and Fundy covered up a surprised laugh, “So far so good. Plus he’s not alone, I’m with him.” You squeezed Fundy’s hand rather tightly, as Wilbur glanced at your intertwined hands.

“What she said.” Fundy nodded his head, “we have each other and that’s all we need. At least for right now. So try not to worry too much.” He waved his dad off, “Now if you don’t mind we have dinner to cook.” Wilbur gave a hesitant nod before turning back to look into your eyes,

“Don’t hurt him.”

“I don’t plan on it," You assured nodded your head you both had a brief staring contest before Wilbur said his official goodbyes and headed on his way. “I’m sorry,” Fundy watched your ears fall flat against your head.

“What for?” Fundy’s brows furrowed in concern, “He was being an ass, you had every right to defend yourself. Plus I hate him so.” He shrugged unbothered, “I love you though.” He pecked your cheek and you smiled shyly.

“I love you too Dee.” You spoke softly, pulling him close by his jacket, his tail began to wag enthusiastically.

“Kiss?”

“Kiss.” You nodded standing on your tiptoes to give him a long kiss, he purred tangling his fingers through your hair. You pulled away much too soon for his liking and let out a low whine, you giggled happily and peppered his face in light kisses. “Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s get married.”

“What?”

~~~

Next Up: Immortality and Nymphs Part II

[rockingrobin69]

so many intriguing titles, i’d love to know more about patronus reveal! 💜

Hello, darling @maziktheli and @crazybutgood! You both asked for Patronus reveal. Did you know that you've helped me get one step closer to finishing this fic? WOW. I've been working on it for months. Started with a prompt from Phoebes, and wrote something like 14k in a single night. I'll get into it a bit further (and provide a sneak peak!) under the read more.

Phoebes - do not read, I'm so sorry darling, it's going to be so soon!

Patronus reveal is a story of spiraling down and trying to find the way back up. It features auror Harry who quits, like, two minutes into the narrative, is heavily depressed, and drinks too much. There’s grueling work and stubborn friends and a new job and a lot of animal-related adventures. Here's a sneak peak from the beginning (over 900 words, oops), TW for depression and alcohol

The first time it happened, it was a fox.

It turned out that being an Auror wasn’t exactly—not that Harry had much in the way of expectations, having been rushed into the job a week and a half after the battle, and still he was disappointed. The action bits felt too action-y; too much blood, and shouting, and a creeping concern about something he could never remember while he was running. The sitting about bits were too sitting-about-y; too much paperwork to fill and thumbs to twiddle and coffee-headaches for it to feel like anything resembling rest. He was uneasy, and exhausted, and bored, somehow all at once. And all the time. It felt like the most this New Life had to offer him was seven ways of compromise, which all sucked.

He didn’t know when was the last time he saw Ron and Hermione, any of his old friends. He hardly even saw the faces right in front of him. It all became so overwhelmingly blurry, that one day he almost blew up an entire operation; instead of guarding the entrance, as he was meant to be doing, he found himself staring at where Dawlish and Malfoy were inspecting the house. Following the length of one perfectly long finger—then alarms, and chaos, and what, what, what was happening, wait, wait, please—Jameson had to carry him out of that safehouse with a fucking Leviosa. No one blamed him for three wounded, for the damage, no one said anything at all. Robards gave him a clap on the back once he was released from Mungo’s, and sent him home on a sigh. Harry hadn’t slept in three days by then.

It all felt like a dream, anyway.

That night was the first, and it was a fox. Silvery at the doorway, sitting with its front paws clasped, pointy and oddly polite. Too vivid to be hallucinated. Harry blinked for a moment, then dismissed it with a shrug; the house blocked any mal-intended magic, anyway. Besides, it reminded him of Seamus’s fox, although it was bigger and neater and—prettier, if Harry went into it, which he didn’t. He went to the kitchen instead, cracked a bottle of beer open on the counter. Not butterbeer, which was sweet and tasty and meant victory, but rather a bitter ale. The fox followed, glinting against the dark wood and the lack of actual light.

“What? Why’re you looking at me like that?” the fox remained silent, beady-eyed and still.

“What are you even doing here?” Harry remembered to ask, and his hand shook around the bottle’s neck. He hadn’t bothered with a glass. Or dinner, matter of fact.

“Shoo. Get out. Out.”

If the fox heard, it didn’t give any sign. There were questions to be asked—loads and loads of questions, but Harry’s mind was whirring too loud to form anything nearing coherent. His ears were still buzzing with the distant ring from today’s battle—not battle. Just, er, crisis. If it even was that. A mistake, miscalculation. A screwup. Screwup, fuckup, idiot—wait, what was he thinking about?

Never mind. Never mind, never mind, never mind. Harry took to the bottle, and was a little startled a few minutes later to see the fox was still there. The most important question was probably who—but he didn’t care, not really, not enough. Couldn’t. Harry shook his head until he was almost off the chair.

“I’m—you can leave now,” he said to the fox, maybe slurred. “You should leave. Go.”

But it stayed and gave Harry a sad, sad look until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He turned on a heel and nearly ran up the stairs, desperate to be alone, desperate not to be. The fox came after him, though, the annoying thing. Harry pretended like he couldn’t see it. He went about his usual way, or just blearily got about, slinking out of his boots and robes, climbing into bed still in his trousers. His teeth felt sticky with the film of beer, but he didn’t have the energy to get up to brush them. He closed his eyes, frowning at himself, and prepared for a night of restless squirming.

Then the most unexpected thing in the universe happened, or thereabouts; light rippled behind his stubbornly-squeezed eyelids, and when he opened them again, the Patronus was on the bed, curled so it was almost touching him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Harry asked, but it came out a croak, and a bit like begging. The Patronus opened one eye, raised an eyebrow, then closed it again. Harry was too incredulous to protest.

“You can’t just…” he still tried. The fox didn’t respond, although its ear twitched, so Harry knew it was listening. He couldn’t muster any more words; just tightened the duvet around himself and prayed to forget how sad it all felt in the morning.

But a couple of hours later, when Harry awoke from the usual nightmares, the fox got up too, serious and steady. It got so close its nose almost touched his. It was startling—or would have been, if Harry’d been able to focus enough for it. But he was still hyperventilating, still dying, and there was something familiar behind the silvery eyes. So Harry lay back down and worked on catching his breath, on staying alive, on staying alive. Please. Please.

The fox remained atop him for a long time—if it were solid, it would be standing on his chest. When Harry wasn’t outright crying anymore, the fox came off, curling closer this time. Harry kept watching and watching, but it didn’t move, only tiny little twitches. Oddly calming.

He kept listening to the little whistling sounds coming from the Patronus, lost enough in all of that to fall back asleep. He managed another three hours, almost, the longest he’d had in a while.

Ask me about my WIPS! I'll answer!

[joontopia]

Teach Me | KNJ Oneshot

pairing: wolf hybrid!namjoon x human!female reader

genre: smut, slight angst, dashes of fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot

au: hybrid au, roommates to lovers

rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+

word count: 6.6k

warnings: slight angst, some pining, first time sex, public sex, unprotected sex, biting, scratching, hickies, breast play, knotting, cum holding, cockwarming, slight breeding kink, size kink (joon got a big cock), fingering, oral (f. recieving), multiple orgasms

House Jincubus presents: Room of Restraints

AU Type: Hybrid AU

Theme: First Time Sex, Public Sex

Kinks: Biting, Scratching, Hickies, Breast Play, Knotting, Cum Holding, Cockwarming, Breeding Kink, Size Kink

a/n: Finished this just in time... Didn’t mean to go so long without posting anything but please accept this as an apology. Thank you, thank you, thank you to my soultwin @escapingreality4now​ for running to my aid when I hit multiple writing blocks with this piece. your support and wisdom saved me. you always know what I need to help me through before I even think of it and i love you. Also, big big thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for looking over this last minute to help me make sure everything flows. you are awesome and i love you! 

“What have I gotten myself into,” you think to yourself as you walk through your front door from packing up your car. 

The loud sound of something large hitting a wall somewhere in your apartment greets you upon entry. You peer down the hallway towards the bedrooms, eyeing your roommate’s, Namjoon, closed door as you make your way to the kitchen. The moment your feet touch the tile of the kitchen, you stop in your tracks. Eyes growing wide at the mess of your countertops. Various amounts of Tupperware half filled with chopped up meat, fruits, and cheeses are scattered around the room, proving to be the aftermath of somebody’s abandoned attempt at meal prepping. Another loud bang comes from behind Namjoon’s door, startling you as you let out a sigh. You walk up the counter and start to organize the food into the containers in equal portions as your mind begins to wander. 

It’s only been nine months since you and Namjoon moved in together. Being best friends throughout college, the both of you decided to stay in the city after graduation. Agreeing to move in together to help split the expensive cost of rent that came with living in the heart of the city. You thought the only thing you’d have to worry about is the secret crush you still harbored for him and if it would affect you being able to live together. How naive of you to think that would be the biggest issue. 

Namjoon is a wolf hybrid. You’ve never lived with a hybrid before. It’s not that you regret the decision, you just wish you would have thought to research what it would be like to better prepare yourself. Especially for one who is about to go through their heat. 

In the beginning, living with Namjoon was going great. The close quarters and seeing each other every day brought you two closer and it didn’t take long for you to feel as if your crush wasn’t so unrequited. Only a few weeks ago Namjoon was placing soft good morning kisses to the top of your head or resting his hand briefly on your waist as he brushed past you. But just as soon as it started, it all had stopped. You continue with your task of sorting the food as you think back to the day he told you what was going on.

2 weeks ago

“Joonie, what’s all this meat for?” You ask, a slight giggle to you tone as you walk back up to the shopping cart. Namjoon stands there with two stacks of meat in his hands, the muscles in his arms flexing as he places the items into the cart. His pointed ears perk up at the sound of you walking up to him. His tail wagging sheepishly as he blushes, dimple ghosting his cheek as he gives you a shy smile. You can’t help but inwardly swoon at how attractive he looks. The bangs of his dark brown hair falling into his face as he stands up straight.

“Well, uh… My heat is coming up. Need to make sure I have enough food to make it through,” he says, eyes on you as he watches you process the news. 

“Ah.” You nod your head in response. Not sure why you are as it’s not like you fully understood. Being human, hybrid heats weren’t exactly your expertise. You take another step towards the cart, placing the bottle of laundry detergent you had gone to retrieve on top of the growing pile. You hear a small cough and look up at it’s owner. You notice Namjoon staring at the detergent bottle with furrowed brows.

“Did I get the wrong kind?” You ask, looking back down at the item. You could have sworn you grabbed the right brand. The smell of this detergent being one you would know instantly. The subtle woodsy fragrance being one you associate very much with Namjoon.  

“No, it is the one I buy. It’s just, um…” Namjoon trails off, scratching the back of his head as you look back up at him.  He averts his eyes, avoiding eye contact with you as he starts again. “I was actually going to grab a bottle of yours.”

He continues speaking before you can say anything, answering your unspoken question. “I was going to take it with me to the hybrid hotel. In case I started to miss you,” he mumbles shyly.

You feel your cheeks heat at the sentiment. A blooming warmth in your chest begins to grow only to be cut off by your mind fixating on the rest of his words. “Hybrid hotel?” you repeat, your brows furrowing in curiosity.

Namjoon shuffles slightly on his feet as his eyes finally meet yours. “It’s a place for hybrids to go during their heat. Where other hybrids can get together for, umm…” He pauses, clearing his throat as his face turns a darker shade of pink. “... for help.”

“Help?” you parrot back in confusion before your brows shoot up. Your mouth dropping open as you let out a soft ‘Oh’ in realization. “Oh! Right, okay. Uhh, yeah. I’ll just go swap them out then.” You rush out the last of your words, snatching the bottle from the cart and turning around. You practically run back to the laundry aisle, not giving Namjoon a chance to say anything more.

As you place the last bit of meat into the last container, you remember how hurt you felt. Still feel if you were being honest. You wonder if he ever thought about asking you for help. You’d consider it, even though you don’t know what all that would consist of being. You remember thinking it would be something more comfortable to go through in your own home. Maybe he chose the hotel because he didn’t want you around. This thought is what led you to make the choice that you did. Considering his reaction when you told him your plan, it only added to your realization of how sorely uneducated you are on hybrid heats.

1 week ago

“You don’t have to go to the hotel. You can stay here.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, catching Namjoon off guard as soon as you got home after work. You just didn’t know how to bring it up and you’ve barely talked to him, let alone seen him, since the grocery trip a week ago. So when you walked into the apartment and saw him folding laundry on the couch, you acted without thinking.

You can tell you startled him at the slight jump of his shoulders. He turns to look at you. A look of surprise displays across his face as he replies, “You… you want me to stay?”

“Yeah. I figure it would be more comfortable than any hotel,” you explain, walking into the living room and sitting next to him on the couch. A mix of his woodsy detergent and another scent hitting you as you get closer.

He looks at you curiously, a twinkle of wariness in his eyes as he goes to fold the blanket in his hand. “Are you sure you’d be okay with me being here?”

You let out a small giggle as you give him a reassuring look. “Joon, this is your place, too. Why wouldn’t I be? I just figured I’d help anyway I can.”

His ears perk up as he takes in your words. Eyes wide in shock as he looks at you. Mouthing dropping open to speak, but you cut him off before he gets a chance. ”Which is why I’ll be staying elsewhere for the week,” you rush out. “I have a coworker who's dating a fox hybrid and she’s offered a place for me to stay.”

You watch as his pointed wolf ears fall just slightly as he looks away. His features darkening as he clenches his jaw, grabbing his folded laundry and placing them into the basket. “So, you won't be here,” he deduces from your words, placing the last piece of laundry into the basket.

“No,” you reply cautiously. “I figured you’d want your privacy? I didn’t want to get in your way in case…” In case you wanted to bring someone to help. You finish the sentence in your mind. The words cause an uneasy feeling in your stomach. 

Namjoon nods at your words, still looking at the basket in front of him. “Right,” he clips, grabbing the basket as he stands from the couch. “Well, thanks,” he mutters, his tone laced with annoyance as he walks past you. You get another small whiff of the other other scent coming from the laundry as he passes, identifying as the mystery scent as the lavender detergent you use. You watch as he walks down the hallway, still not looking at you as he slams his door, disappearing into his bedroom.

Another loud thud startles you, pulling you from your memory. You look down at the completed meal preps and let out another sigh. You make sure the lids are secure on the containers and begin to stack them in the fridge. You place the last container of food in the fridge and wipe down the counter. You inspect your t-shirt and jeans, making sure no food stains have found their way onto your attire, prompting for a wardrobe change. Having no other distraction to delay your departure to your coworker’s house, you decided now is as good as any time to hit the road. 

Walking out of the kitchen, you stop in the hallway, looking back down towards Namjoon’s room. You figure it would be rude of you not to tell him you were leaving. You walk towards his door, raising a fist to knock when you hesitate. Wondering to yourself if he even wants you to say bye to him. You debate if you should ask him to give you a call should his heat end early. Or if he would like for you to call and check on him. Or even drop in to make sure he eats. “Oh god what if he has someone over?” 

Before your mind could dwell too much on that thought, the door in front of you swings open, bringing you face to face with the tall, brown-haired hybrid. His ears pointing up in shock to see you standing there.

“Why are you just standing here?” He asks you as he holds open his door.

“I, umm,” you stammer, the sudden appearance of him catching you off guard. “I’m about to head out. Just wanted to tell you bye before I…” You trail off, taking in his appearance. He had a plain shirt and gym shorts on. Sweat is building on his hairline as you notice his breathes seemed slightly uneven. Your eyes trail down his arms, ogling at how noticeable buff they look, wondering if his upcoming heat has anything to do with how they look larger than usual. You catch the sight of his house keys in his hand and nod to them. “Are you going somewhere?”

He looks down and clears his throat. Taking a step forward around you and closing his door. “Uh, yeah. I forgot to settle something at the bookstore. Didn’t set for Jimin to have access to process payroll. It needs to be sent out while I’ll be gone,” he says, walking down the hallway to the front door. 

You follow him, grabbing your keys from the kitchen counter as you pass by. “Do you want me to drive you and drop you back off? I don’t mind.” 

“No, I got it. I’ll take my bike.” He grabs his jacket and reaches for the front door. You try to shake off the feeling that he doesn’t want to be around you and go to offer again.

“But, Joon it’s…” You’re cut off by the loud curse Namjoon lets out as he opens the door, taking in the state of the weather outside.

“It’s raining,” he finishes your sentence. The sound of raindrops hitting the pavement hard filling the brief silence that follows. He turns to look at you as he lets out a small huff. “Yeah, a ride would be appreciated. Thank you.”

You give him a soft smile as he holds the door open for you, closing it behind him as he follows you to your car.

The drive to the bookstore was silent. The rain drowns out any music playing from the radio during your short drive to Namjoon’s work. You pull up to the curb, parking right in front of the storefront to give Namjoon the shortest trek in the rain possible. He unbuckles his seatbelt, grabbing the door handle before he stops and turns to you. “You can come in if you want. I don’t know how long this will take me and it will probably be more comfortable than waiting out here.”

You give him a smile, nodding at him as you pull the keys out of the ignition. You both speed out of the car and towards the shop, managing your best to stay as dry as possible in the short distance. Locking your car, you follow Namjoon into the bookstore. Once inside, a warm, angelic voice greets you. 

“Welcome to Cypher Bookstore! Oh, Namjoon! Didn’t expect to see you for another week,” the cute blonde male behind the front desk addresses your roommate, smiling when he notices you standing behind him and reaches out his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Jimin. Namjoon’s favorite employee. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re my only employee,” Namjoon grumbles as he walks around the counter towards the back office, stopping briefly as he turns and motions towards you. “This is my roommate, Y/N. I’ll be here for just a little bit. Forgot to do something before I left yesterday.” 

You shake Jimin’s hand, giving him a smile as you see his eyes light up. A sudden realization forming in his mind as he looks at you. “OH, YN! I’ve heard so much about you,” he sing-songs, letting out a little chuckle as he notices the faint trace of confusion on your face. “You’re one of Joon’s favorite topics,” he whispers as he raises his hand to block his mouth. It was only for show, seeing as his volume was still loud enough for Namjoon to hear from the office. The wolf hybrid pops his head out of the open office door, interrupting Jimin before he could say anything else.

“Hey, Jimin. Why don’t you go take a quick lunch while I’m here? I can watch the store. We shouldn’t get very much traffic with this kind of weather.” By the way Namjoon glares at Jimin, you both can tell it was more than just a suggestion. Jimin gives Namjoon a thumbs up as he smiles, winking at you as he walks around the counter and heading towards the door.

“It was nice to finally put a face to a name. See ya!” You wave him bye as Jimin bounces out the door and into the rain. You watch as he disappears out of sight when you hear Namjoon call for you, turning to look at him from across the desk. 

“You can take a look around if you want. I’ll just be in here if someone comes in or if, you know, you need anything,” he says, giving you a half smile. You nod your head, huffing out a small “okay” as you turn around, venturing into the small two story shop. 

You roam around, taking in the numerous shelves of books, all sorted by what seemed to be genre and author. In the middle of the room, you notice an iron spiral staircase leading up to another section of the store. A loft area that would overlook the entire bookstore if it weren’t for the long curtain that blocked it off.

You walk up the staircase, entering into the cozy little section as you make it to the top. You notice only three bookcases in the small area. The rest of the space fitted with a table in the middle and a medium sized couch against the wall behind it. You figure it’s an area created for study groups or research. Your assessment is confirmed when you browse the loft’s reading contents. Various informational books and research journals line the shelves once again sorted by genre. Your eyes stop on the label marking the start of the ‘Hybrids’ section. Eyeing the titles, you find one that catches your attention. You reach for it without a thought as you read the name of the book in your mind. A-Z on Hybrid Heats. Flipping it open, you turn and walk around the table, sitting down on the couch as you stop on the page titled Heats. 

Heats are a biological mating cycle all hybrids go through. Heats can last 4-7 days and begin with fever and increased pheromone production (see Pre-Heat). 

You continue down the page, skimming the sections leading into information on heat triggers and heat suppressants. You come up on the section of breeding, reading through prevention options when your eyes stop on a word that catches your eye. Knotting. You flip to the page it points you to. Your eyes grow wide when you’re met with an anatomical picture of what knotting is. You continue on, taking in the brief explanations the book offers on knotting, marking, and various other terms. You knew heats were a time where a hybrids sex drive was high, but you had no idea it consisted of all this. You didn’t realize sex for a hybrid would be that much diffierent. 

As you look back up at the anatomy diagrams, your mind wanders to the wolf hybrid just a floor below you. Is this what happens with him? Does it hurt? Has he ever marked or claimed anyone before? Surely not, as it seems like a one and done type of ordeal. You would know if he had someone in his life like that, wouldn’t you? 

“Would he ever consider me?” you think to yourself, eyes closing as you picture what it would be like between you and Namjoon. Would he be rough? Would he be gentle? You begin to fantasize what it would feel like. Him buried to the hilt inside you, his knot growing as he grabs your chin. Moving your head to the side, exposing the bare canvas of your neck as his other hand roams over your body. Mumbles of how you belong to him and only him falling from his lips as he plants kisses across your body. The mental imagery causes you to squirm in your seat. You rub your thighs together, trying to find some relief as you feel your growing arousal start to leak from your core. 

“What are you doing?” Namjoon’s voice comes out of nowhere, snapping you out of your day dream as you shoot up from your seat, the book dropping from your lap and onto the floor.

“S-sorry, I was just reading while I waited,” you stammer under his gaze. Feeling like a little kid caught looking at something they shouldn’t. You take a look at Namjoon, noticing how he was now drenched in sweat. The knuckles of his hands turning white as he holds onto the railing by the staircase. “Are you okay?”

“My heat,” he growls. The tone of his voice is an octave lower than usual, the deep rumbles of his baritone causing another slick of arousal to leak from you. Namjoon’s eyes flicker down to your groin before looking back up at your face. His eyes watch you hungrily as he speaks through clenched teeth. “It’s starting early.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod, bending down to grab the book you dropped off the floor. Trying your best to hide the cover as you walk around the table. Hoping he won’t see the title when you pass him. “Let me put this up and we’ll hurry and get you home. Namjoon?!?”

You barely make it past him when he reaches for your arm, snatching the book from your hands and glancing at the front cover. “Why are you reading this? He asks, a single brow quirking up in half amusement. 

You reach for the book, letting out a small gasp of surprise when Namjoon stops you, catching your wrist with his free hand. “Answer me.”

“I was just reading to pass the time.” You can tell by the way his ears twitch that he could sense the lie in your words. He tosses the book to the side. A soft thud echoes in the small loft as it hits the ground. He starts walking you backwards into the room, hand still wrapped around your wrist. 

“I can smell you, you know,” he drawls. Your eyes grow wide as you blink back at him. Cheeks heating with embarrassment as you immediately know what he’s referencing. “Is that what was getting you all worked up? Reading about my heat?”

You feel the back of your legs hit something solid. Placing your hand on the surface behind you, you realize it’s the table. “Why read that book?” he asks again, his dark orbs piercing into yours as he waits for your answer.

“I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help.” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, but considering his close proximity, you know he’s able to hear you. He eyes you carefully, moving his free hand to brace itself beside yours on the table. You notice the strain in his arm muscles. As if he was trying to hold himself back from you, despite how little of a distance there already was.

“Help,” he mimics. You notice one of his pupils is already half blown, something you think is a cause of his brewing heat. He leans in closer to you, his nose barely touching yours. “Like more than just giving me my privacy at home?”

You push yourself slightly off the table, trying to stand up a little straighter as you look the wolf hybrid in the eye. You take in a deep breath, replying to him with as much certainty in your tone as possible. “Yes. More than just giving you privacy.”

You barely register his growl before you feel his lips on yours. His mouth devouring you hungrily as you return his kisses. A small moan slips past your lips as his free hand cups your face, tilting it to the side as he traces small nips across your jawline, ending just by your ear. 

“You know, I can teach you so much more than that little book,” he purrs. The insinuation of his words traveling down your body and straight into your core. Your hips grinding up into his out of instinct as he pulls away from you just slightly.

“I need to know you want this,” he says to you. Breathing heavily as he searches your face, looking for any traces of doubt.

“I want this, Joonie,” you answer him, moving your free hand to cup his face. You watch as his eyes flutter shut at your touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Teach me.”

The moment the words leave your lips, his eyes shoot open. His gaze full of hunger and lust as he no longer holds himself back. His lips come crashing back down on yours. He lets go of your face and wrist and reaches for the button of your jeans. You help him remove them, sliding them down your legs and kicking them off as he lifts you up. Sitting you down on the edge of the table as your legs wrap around him, drawing him in closer to you. He presses his hips into you, his growing bulge pushing right into your weeping, cloth covered core. Your panties, soaked from your arousal, were sticking to your skin as you grind your hips in him. Namjoon’s hands scour your body. He lets out a soft moan as he brushes his hand over your breast, giving one a soft squeeze as he trails his hands down to the hem of your shirt. He breaks the kiss, lifting your shirt up over your head, a soft groan of approval at the sight of your lace covered chest. You take the opportunity to do the same to his, tossing his shirt to the side before grabbing his shoulders and bringing him in for another kiss. He rips at the back of your bra, breaking the clasp as he tears the offensive fabric from your body. You find it hard for you to care, feeling his desperate need for you too much of a turn on to dwell about the ruined garment. 

He lays you back on to the table, kissing down your body and stopping at your breasts along the way. He wraps his lips around a hardened bud, massaging the other between his thumb and finger tips. He sucks lightly, pulling off with a pop as you let out a soft moan. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this,” he confesses, trailing kisses across your skin before circling your other nipple with his tongue. He takes it in between his teeth and gives it a small bite. You breathe in sharply from the sensation, gasping out your response as he starts to trail kisses further down your body, sinking to his knees in front of you.

“Me, too, Joonie. Wanted you for so long.” You take in another sharp breath as he moves his face between your legs, nudging your clit with his nose before moving your panties to the side. He runs his tongue up your slit, gathering your leaking juices on the tip before flicking it against your sensitive bud. He brings his tongue back into his mouth. A deep guttural growl resonating from his chest as he savors your taste. “All for me” he growls as he reaches for the top of your panties. Pulling them down your leg and tossing them to join the previously discarded clothing. 

He leans back into your core, planting soft kisses around every part of you except where you wanted him most. He moves over to your thigh, giving the soft flesh a nibble before sucking on the skin leaving rose colored patches trailing back towards your center. You feel him place his fingers on either side of your entrance, splitting your lower lips apart as he makes a V with fingers. You let out a small whine, reaching down to find the top of his head and weave your fingers into his hair. “Joonie, please. No teasing,” you beg. 

The breath from his chuckle tickles you as he leans back in, flicking your clit again with his tongue. “So needy for me,” he mumbles, taking your clit between his slips. A soft moan slips past your lips as he slowly begins to suck rolling his tongue around your swollen bud. You feel him gathering your wetness on his fingers, slipping two of his digits into your slick hole with ease. You arch your back, mouth dropping open at the stretch as he pumps into you, scissoring his fingers every other thrust. “Need to prep you quick. Can’t wait any longer, “ he huffs out between licks, inserting a third finger into you as he picks up his speed. You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands each time he brushes against the small patch of nerve inside of you. Your walls start to flutter around him, alerting you both of your oncoming orgasm. Namjoon continues with his pace as he wraps his lips once again around your sensitive bud. “Come for me,” he demands. The words are muffled but your body hears it, obeying him as if it knows nothing else. Your orgasm leaves your body quivering, your toes curling in as a high pitched whine falls from your mouth. 

You feel Namjoon pull away from, a soft groan rolls through your chest from the loss of him inside of you. You look at him through hooded eyes as he stands, hovering over you as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them of your release. Your eyes flicker down to his large bulge, watching as his other hand busying itself as he palms himself over his shorts. Leaning up on your elbows as you observe Namjoon’s every motion of dropping his boxer and shorts. 

Your eyes grow wide the moment his impressively large, erect member is released from its clothed cage. He grabs a hold of himself, pumping his throbbing length as he moves closer to you. Namjoon is huge. You can’t help but not feel surprised considering the build of him. You feel your core begin to clench, your pussy crying to be filled by him. Your mouth starts to water, your tongue wanting so bad to lick the precum leaking from the mushroomed tip. “I want to taste you,” you purr, pushing yourself up off the table. A pout forming on your lips as he shakes his head, laying you back down as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Later baby,” he groans as he rubs his cock between your swollen lips. “I need to feel you.” He slowly starts to push in, catching your lips in an opened mouth kiss, swallowing every one of your moans. The feel of him stretching you open burns slightly, the sensation overridden by pleasure as Namjoon slips his hand between your bodies and rolls circles around your clit. You swear you could feel him in your stomach when he stops, still pleasuring your swollen bud as you adjust to the size of him. You want to tell him to move, breaking apart the kiss to do so when he speaks first.

“Just a little more baby. You think you can take in all of me?” He asks you, a shit eating grin splitting across his face as he notices the shock on your face.

“There’s still more of you?” You breathe out, peeking down in between your bodies at where you’re connected.

“Oh yes baby,” he coos, trailing kisses down your throat. “And it’s all for you.” Namjoon takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly as he pushes his remaining inches inside you. Your back arches, pushing your breast further into his face as he bottoms out. A deep groan rumbling through his chest as he starts grinding into you.

“Move, Joonie.” Those words were all Namjoon needed to start up his pace. The first few pumps were slow, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you can tell he was trying to hold back, to ease you in. His control falters as you pull his face up to you from your breast, whispering “faster” into his ear as you wrap your arms around his back. Your nails anchor into his muscles as he unleashes at an unrelenting pace.

Namjoon pumps into you with fervor. The storm and your surroundings fading into an abyss as the small room is filled with the sound of your shared wanton moans. Each thrust pushes Namjoon deeper and deeper. His length makes it easy for him to hit you in all the right places. Your nails leave red welts on his back with every pass of his tip over the rough patch inside of you. By the occasional hiss that leaves Joon’s lips, you can only guess a few of your love marks broke skin. Very soon, you feel a warming sensation building inside of you again. You shut your eyes, trying to sooth your body to hold out just a little longer. 

Just as you feel yourself near the edge, Namjoon slams into you, pausing his relentless onslaught as he lifts you up from the table. Your legs wrapping around his waist for balance. He starts walking you around the room. The accumulating sweat of your naked bodies causes you to slowly lose group. You slip from his grasps just a little, your nails clawing into his shoulders as you squeeze your legs tighter around him. The action makes your walls clench around Namjoon’s member, still buried to the hilt inside of you. The sensation causes Namjoon to stumble, groaning as he braces you up against the nearest bookcase. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbles as he buries his face into the curve of your neck, nipping at your skin as he slowly grinds his hips up into you. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer.”

You make your walls give him a playful squeeze, not able to help the giggle that escapes your lips as he pulls his face from your neck and glares at you. “Is that how you want to play?” He growls as he pushes you further against the bookcase, grabbing ahold of your waist as he reels his hips back. He pounds into you furiously, your head tilting back as your mouth drops open. You feel the warmth in your center resurfacing, growing fast as Namjoon bounces you harder on his dick.

You didn’t realize you had moved away from the bookcase until you feel the soft fabric of the couch hit your back. Namjoon lets out a soft grunt as he falls slightly on top of you, readjusting the two of you into a comfortable position in between each thrust. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck again, nipping along your collarbone as he transitions his movements into a slow grind. You feel like he’s holding himself back again and you silently hope you don’t ruin the mood with your next words. “You can mark me, Joonie. Only if you want to.”

You feel Namjoon’s hips pause as his shoulders tense under your arms. He leans up, wide eyed as he meets you face to face. “Y/N… You don’t know what you’re asking for. I mark you, I claim you. You’re mine forever.” He cups your face in his hands, his eyes watching you so intently, you feel as if he could peer into your soul. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

“Yes, Namjoon. I’ve only ever wanted you.” The look in Namjoon’s eyes turns feral as he dives down, taking your lips into a passionate kiss. His hips pull back, reigniting his pace with one hard thrust as he once again begins to pound into you. Releasing you from his kiss, he grabs your chin turning your face to the side as he whispers into your ear. 

“All mine, huh? Pretty baby wants me to claim her? Want me to mark you? Mate you? Fill you up with my pups?” He continues to fucking into you as he insuates each point of his speech with hard thrusts. “You want me to pump you full of my cum? Fuck you until you’re good and pregnant?”

His words have your mind turning to mush. Thoughts of being his and only his taking over your every thought. A future where you bear his children. A future with him. You can hardly make out the words of agreement that fall from your lips as your entire body starts to tingle. Your walls begin to flutter, the subtle indication causing Namjoon to quicken his pace, helping you chase your release alongside his. 

“Come with me baby.” Your mind barely registers Namjoons words as waves of euphoria flow through your body. The power of your orgasm minimizes the sudden stab of pain on your shoulder from where Namjoon’s canines pierce your skin from his bite. You feel his length twitch inside of you as spurts of his come fill you to the brim. Suddenly, you feel an uncomfortable pressure just past your entrance. The excessive stretching of your walls causes you to whine as you try to squirm free. Namjoon caresses the side of your face as he peppers kisses around his mark, whispering to you that it’s okay. You let your body relax as much as possible. The ringing in your ears subsides. The only sound you hear now is the mismatched heavy breathing between the two of you.

Namjoon places his arm next to your head, trying to prop himself up to keep as much of his body weight on top of you. He leans up just a bit, the movement causing his knot inside you to slightly tug at your entrance and you wince. Namjoon freezes before lowering himself back down a bit. “Sorry,” he huffs out in a chuckle. Kissing you on the lips as he rubs tiny circles with his thumb on your hip. “I know this can’t be comfortable, but it’ll go down soon.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe out, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck. “I can handle it. Anything for you.” 

He smiles at your words, leaning in closer to you to rub the tip of his nose against yours as you smile back at him. You both lie there for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of being so full of him as his cock slowly softens inside of you. The feeling doesn’t last much longer as the realization of where you still are sinks in. “Um, how soon is soon though?” you ask. Your nerves make you feel suddenly very exposed under the fact that anyone could have walked in during your activities.

Namjoon leans back up and gives his hip a little test tug. With no signs of resistance, he continues to pull completely out of you. The both of you wince at the loss, you once more as you feel the mixtures of your releases starting to spill out of you. Namjoon catches the escaped fluids with his fingers, pushing it back inside of you. “Fuck, I need to get you back home,” he says as he moves off the couch, retrieving your discarded clothes and bringing them back to you. “Seeing you like this will definitely be something that could set off my heat again.”

You let out a giggle as you grab your panties, slipping them on before any more of his release tries to slip out. “We’re lucky Jimin didn’t get back early.” 

As if on queue, you hear the front door chime, alerting you of someone’s arrival. “Hellooo! Joon Y/N? You guys still here?” Jimin’s voice trails up the stairs as you and Namjoon look at each other, eyes growing wide in panic. You both scramble to throw on the rest of your clothes. Barely getting the final pieces settled in place before Jimin’s blonde hair comes into sight. He stops at the top of the stairs, head cocking to the side in curiosity as he sees you and Namjoon standing awkwardly by the couch. Mischief twinkling in his eyes as he crosses his arms. “What have you guys been up to? Y/N, what’s that on your neck?” 

You reach up to your shoulder, feeling part of the bite mark sticking out of your collar and pulling your shirt to cover the rest. Namjoon lets out an awkward cough, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the stairwell. “I was just showing Y/N around. But it’s time for us to go, see you in a week.” 

You give Jimin a wave by as you follow Namjoon down the stairs. As you make it to the front door, you hear Jimin call down from the loft, “I hope you have a great vacation, Joon. Have fun you two.”

You see Namjoon’s cheeks flush pink as he pulls you faster out the door and towards your car, the weather taking a temporary break from the rain. Opening your car door for you, he waits for you to start to get in before tugging on your arm, bringing you back to standing in front of him. He pulls you in for a kiss, the both of you breaking into a smile before it ends. Oh yes. Fun you two will most definitely have.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Awakened

Alpha!Osamu x reader x Alpha!Atsumu

Author’s note : Fantasy AU based on two pieces of fan art of the twins as fox yōkai, but I hope it’s to your liking! ; their names are never directly said to reader-chan, so their names are what they call each other.

Warnings: bullying (brief, not from the twins), naive and innocent reader, knotting, double penetration, backshot, face fucking/blowjob, dubcon/noncon, blood, biting and licking, cunnilingus, creampie

There’s a legend that runs deep in the roots of your village, one that’s told to many and encourages children to stay away from the forest. It was proven effective — no child dared to enter the forest, holding onto that fear into their adult years. The legend revolves around two mischievous fox spirits that would always be in competition. They always had someone who would win, but then a terribly evil spirit came upon the clearing they played in, forcing the two spirits to push differences aside and fight off the evil spirit that entered the territory. It was a combined effort, the two spirits realizing they worked better when they worked together. It taught children that sometimes it was better to ask for help; however, it also taught children that they couldn’t go into the forest. The spirits resides in the forest, protecting the village from evil spirits as a combined task and if anyone dared trespass in their forest, then destruction would come to the village.

It was a legend some teenagers dared to challenge, entering the forest and coming out, saying “nothing bad happened to them!” but then their luck would turn sour sometimes. It always put things in perspective, seeing them suddenly fall into a mud puddle after entering the forest, or having their pants suddenly fall. It made people laugh, but it really made you feel like the forest was alive and watching. You never dared to go near the forest. At least, not until your pride was at stake.

“Go get a stupid stick, [Y/N]!” Jocelyn sneered, her eyes narrowed. Her arms were crossed and she was tired to repeating herself. You were dared to go into the forest, get a stick to bring back for proof, and you would no longer be a coward. It was simple in words, but not so simple in action. You feared the bad things that happened after people entered the forest, but you were considered a coward for those beliefs. “You’re just a big, dumb baby!”

“No I’m not!” You shouted back, puffing your cheeks. You let out a heavy breath and turned to the brown and green image of the forest. They wouldn’t be able to see you enter the forest, but they just needed a stick as proof. Sucking up the courage to go, your legs moved towards the foliage. You could hear the other girls’ jeers as your pace slowed, the forest closer than you had ever dared to let it. The forest itself looked peaceful, but the legend of the spirits scared you, halting your footsteps. Instead of going in, you were going to pick up a stick on the outskirts, but there was no stick. Nothing but grass lay before you, the shadows of the trees outlining what was the forest and what was not. There was a stick you could see, the light seeping through the leaves illuminating it as if you were on a quest to get — well, you kind of were.

Sucking up any inhibitions you had, you entered the forest. Picking up the stick, you noticed a lack of any other stick lying in the fallen leaves. Clutching the stick to your chest, you turn to go when you find a small piece of cloth, hidden in the leaves. You pick it up, looking at the designs and feeling how soft and silky it was. It was a robe that your ancestors adorned, but the fabric told you it was either brand new or kept in pristine condition. With it in your hands, you found yourself turning to flee once again. The howling of the wind sent your legs running out of the forest and up the hill, as fast as you could. If you had listened closer, you would have heard the howl of a beast as you fled.

Deeper into the forest, a pair of eyes watched as you obtained the stick and plucked the ceremonial robe from the earth he presented to you. When you chose it and fled, he smiled. His eyes turned from your retreating figure and moved to leap from the tree he perched himself on. As his body was that of a grey fox, he was much better at hiding than if he was in his more human form. Transitioning between into his human form, he smiles once more, a finger on his chin.

“What to offer her next, I wonder?” He ponders aloud, with only the wind around to hear him and carry his voice.

Your lungs are burning as you arrive back at the little picnic you were attending, the girls giggling as you finally come back. “Did ya see a ghost or somethin’?” Akira asks. You’re heaving as you present the stick, perfectly in tact and big enough to feed a fire. Everyone’s cheers are perceived as mocking to you, as you move on. The picnic is no longer something you want to attend, instead preferring to take a bath and sleep. With your worries placed on the forest and the spirits within, you find yourself wondering if you’ll be able to sleep or shall an entity come and judge you for trespassing.

The next day, you find your gaze drawn to the forest, as if it calls you down. Ignoring the calls are hard, you legs involuntarily moving as you think. On the edge of the forest, you see inside to find a small temari ball. It looks as if a young child once played with it, as you get closer to the object. Looking around the forest, you expect to see a child lost or crying, but you find nothing. With the lack of an owner, you decide to leave the ball. Turning to leave, you reprimand yourself for entering the forest again.

The sound of leaves rustling has you swiveling around, almost falling over when you realize the temari is following you. Moving back, it continues to follow you. A quick glance around proves that no one else is around, so you pick up the temari. As you did yesterday, you flew out of the forest and hope you didn’t take a malevolent being’s toy.

Another pair of eyes watch as you flee, his temari offering close to your chest. A wickedly mischievous grin spreads upon his lips, his form emerging from the shadows where he was hidden. With sharp canines peeking from his smile, warm brown eyes look to the path you had just taken. “I’m glad she likes her present. I can’t wait for what tomorrow will bring,” he chuckles, moving further into the forest. With each step he takes, a thick fog permeates the forest floor, providing a barrier past the stream.

You don’t know what it is. The growing urge to enter the forest gets stronger as the day continues on, the urge barely quenched upon nightfall. Even in your bed chambers, you find yourself looking through your open window, into the forest. Mist seeps from the greenery, an ominous feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. A howl from the forest startles you, eyes finding the gaze reflecting back at you. As you hold the gaze, feeling yourself rooted in place, another set of eyes joins. You shut the window, deciding to never go back to the forest.

When morning comes, the feeling of needing to go to the forest is even stronger. Feeling ill from the image of last night, you decide to stay home for the day. When a knock comes to your door, you assume it to be the milk delivery. Upon opening the door, your eyes widen at the two boys on your doorstep.

“Can you go get my ball?” The first one says, a bright smile on his face. The one currently sniffling nods in agreement. They look like twins, not that you’d recognize them.

“I didn’t mean to kick it so hard, please don’t tell my dad!” He cries out, holding onto his brother. You smile warmly at him, getting to eye level. Running your hand through his hair, his sniffles lessen.

“I won’t tell anyone, you’re fine. I’ll be right back,” you smile at him, wiping his tears. You shut the door, telling them to stay put as you go searching for the ball. As you look around, you become confused. Where is the ball? Moving further along your backyard, you hear a hushed whisper from the forest, wide eyes turning to sound. With an apology already on your lips, you turn to enter your house when you find yourself unable to move. As if an invisible barrier prevents you from progressing towards your house — which seems proven true as you inch towards the forest and suddenly cannot go back to where you were. With the unsettling pit in your stomach, you enter the forest once more.

Entering, you find the mist from before still evident, yet it parts for you. Curiosity sets in as you are further urged into the forest, stopping as you hear water trickling. A stream lays in front of you, waters more calm than your heart beat. You inhale, deciding to risk it as you wade through the stream. The water seeps into your shoes, the bottom of your dress becoming saturated. Progressing further into the mist, now a heavy fog, you find a large temple inside. It’s stable and perfectly standing, as if it isn’t centuries old. The two erected statues tell you the temple belongs to the spirits of the legend, finding a chill run through your blood as you realize your situation. Before you step foot onto the stairs, you turn to leave but are halted.

“Where do you think yer goin’?” A rough voice speaks. You whip around to see a tall, but handsome man. The hair is a dark grey color, eyes to match. What stuns you is the pair of grey fox ears, a tail that matches in color swishing behind him. His clothes remind you of the robe you found amongst the leaves.

“I-I’m terribly sorry, really!” You begin to plea, pulling on your wrist. “I-I didn’t mean to- to trespass!”

“What’d’ya mean? This is your home, y’know?” He seems genuinely confused, another stun to your body as his words settle. Home? This temple? Before you can refute him, another voice joins in.

“Ah, ‘Samu, I told ya humans are different. They don’t know the offering ritual, but I made sure to get our offerings. Our silly little human forgot about them,” he chuckles, looking at you. With the robe you found on one arm, the temari in his hand. “This was my offering, you know,” he gestures to the ball. “A precious item to me, it is. I’m glad you took care of it and cleaned it up. What a perfect little wife you’ll make,” his grin makes his words more sinister than they originally were. Fear spikes through your veins, your limbs suddenly shaking as you feel your legs give out. The one dubbed ‘Samu catches you, holding you bridal style as you find yourself hesitant to hold onto his robes.

“‘Tsumu, y’know I’m not watching humans like you do. That’s weird,” he cringes, nose scrunching up in disgust. ‘Tsumu seemed to get ticked off at that, growling. Only then did you notice how animal-like the both of them were, sporting fox ears and a tail to match. While ‘Samu had dark grey, ‘Tsumu spotted a saturated yellow hair color and slightly lighter ears and tail. So caught up in the view, you didn’t notice that the brothers has started walking, heading towards the temple.

“W-Wait, I can’t go with you! I’m— I’m not who you’re looking for!” Sputtering out the first things to pop into your mind, the two don’t stop.

“Of course yer who we’re looking for! You’re meant for us, meant to know your place with us. After all, why else would enter our domain, smelling so delicious as you do?”

“Smell— what?”

“‘Tsumu, stop bein’ cryptic. He’s saying you entered the forest during your heat cycle,”

“Well, ovulation in humans. Apparently, they’re not like us special spirits,”

“You’re ready for us, we can smell it. You’ll be the perfect mate for us to breed,” although ‘Samu seemed uninterested, you could feel how his chest seemed to heave as he inhaled deeply. The growling accompanying his final word sent slick between your folds as you held onto him close, afraid of falling.

Arriving at the top of the temple, you saw a cot that has been lain out, the soft cushioning big enough for the three of you. The sight of it had your brain going into overdrive, panicking as you attempted to leave ‘Samu’s arms. He complied, but his hands stayed firmly on your hips. “Time to get dressed,”

Before you could ask for an explanation, your clothes were practically torn off of you. Blood spilled onto your ripped dress, your side burning from where the claws caught you. The shreds fell to the temple floor, your hands flying to cover the exposed skin. While one hand covered the area between your legs, your arm held your breasts close to your chest. ‘Samu clicked his tongue, easily removing your hands from your body while ‘Tsumu slid on the robe, his claws lightly grazing your skin. He didn’t hide the fact he was admiring the view, either, his dark eyes gazing over each inch of skin you presented to him. Once the robe was on, you were released from ‘Samu’s hold, left to cover yourself up with the fabric. You’d deny it aloud, but the robe fit you perfectly.

“You’re gorgeous,” ‘Tsumu growled, shedding his own robe. Your hands came in front of you, hoping to somehow deter him when ‘Samu brought you backwards, to the cot presented. ‘Tsumu wasn’t far behind, dropping to his knees while you lay against the cot. It was softer than expected, more plush than it looks. ‘Samu had stripped of his own clothes, his robe hanging loosely on him by the ribbon around his waist. ‘Tsumu was different, his robe open and letting you see every inch of skin, but his arms still through the sleeves as if he was cold.

“I don’t—“ you began, your words interrupted by ‘Samu’s lips on yours, his tongue brushing against your closed lips as he deepened the kiss. ‘Tsumu’s touches had begun to litter your thighs, spreading your legs as he inhaled deeply. A finger touching your entrance had you jumping, only to be held firmly down by ‘Samu’s hands.

“You’re so wet, it’s hard to hold back,” ‘Tsumu growls out, his tongue lapping at your folds. You squirm and make a noise of displeasure, but ‘Samu is there to keep your focus on his lips and kisses. The more he kisses you, the hotter your body gets and the more you feel your resistance melt away. ‘Tsumu has his face between your thighs, licking and sucking on your clit, claws digging into the skin. It has you clenching around nothing, the hot pleasure from his tongue and burning sensation on your thighs. It isn’t until he removes himself from between your legs do you feel relaxed and at ease, as if your body is jelly. Your resistance is no more, a small whine coming from you when ‘Samu and ‘Tsumu remove themselves to admire their handiwork.

It’s a sudden change, the relaxing touches and breathless kisses are gone, replaced by the feverish touches of both men as they paw and scratch at your skin, ‘Samu’s teeth sinking into hot skin and lapping at the blood while ‘Tsumu presses less destructive kisses to your neck. With the air much too hot for your liking, a breathless moan leaves your lips when ‘Tsumu pulls your head back by your hair, spitting into your mouth and then kissing you. With his tongue tracing your teeth and his growls being swallowed up by your mouth, you’re oblivious to ‘Samu. With his cock in one hand, he kneads your thigh with his other hand as he rubs along your folds.

“‘Tsumu, move off,” ‘Samu growls, pushing the fox spirit off of you, his large frame colliding with the wooden planks of the temple. You find yourself on your hands and knees, ass in the air while the robe is promptly stripped off of you, lain underneath you. ‘Samu licks his lips, lining himself up with you entrance while ‘Tsumu gets his balance back. The first press in has you screaming, but it isn’t just because he’s big. His thickness is something you never expected, but with his calloused hands on your hips, bringing you back into his hips with no regards to adjusting you. A guttural groan comes from ‘Samu, head thrown back as he basks in the pleasure of being buried in your cunt. ‘Tsumu is now back to you, his hard cock in front of your face.

With another rough thrust, one that has you practically bouncing off ‘Samu’s cock, ‘Tsumu has you wrapping your lips around his. You can’t take it all in, that’d be impossible. With a pair of hands on your hips, you’re brought to ‘Samu while the pair of hands tangled in your hair pulls you towards ‘Tsumu. Lips pressed firmly against ‘Tsumu’s cock as your tongue runs under the length, running over the bulging veins and ridges you find. Your eyes are screwed shut, unable to stay open while ‘Samu splits you on his cock, somehow forcing himself deeper and deeper inside of you. It isn’t until you’re finally bouncing flush against him do you feel something strange on his cock. It’s only then do you open your eyes, looking at ‘Tsumu’s cock that has a large bulb at the base of it, growing in size the more you suck on him. Hollowing out you cheeks has ‘Tsumu groaning, claws digging into your scalp as he forces himself down your throat. He doesn’t force the bulb in your throat, thankfully, but he does coat your throat in his cum.

“Your mouth is fucking hot, little human. It’s like you were made to take us,” he breathes out, panting. You’re coughing, feeling Samu’s thrusts speed up as he brings you close to him, but he pulls out at the last moment to spill all over your back.

“With our scent on you, you’ll be stuck by our side until you pass,” ‘Samu is in a similar situation, chest heaving as you’re flipped over. You’re then placed on ‘Tsumu’s lap, his cock rubbing between your folds as he grinds into you. “But we’ll take you together first,”

“So no hard feelings, right ‘Samu?”

“Right, ‘Tsumu,” the agree, Tsumu’s cock rubbing into you and then prodding at your drooling cunt. He slips the tip in, the feeling similar to ‘Samu’s thick cock. Speaking of ‘Samu, he’s quick to stick his own tip back in, stretching you out farther then you expected. A silent scream comes from you as tears spill down your cheeks, both of them thrusting into you as your cunt burns.

Split open on their cocks, you’re helpless. Nails digging into ‘Samu’s shoulders as his hands once more find themselves on your hips. ‘Tsumu’s hands are keeping your legs spread, the view of you sucking in both their cocks on display as they thrusts in tandem. When one pulls out, the other thrusts in and vice versa. The rhythm they set is one that works, their lips finding opposite sides on your neck to kiss and lick, teeth grazing the skin. You feel a buildup of your own orgasm as they plow into you, your walls squeezing them as they pick up the pace. Their rhythm gets sloppy, short growls from each as their bulbs start to grow again.

When ‘Tsumu sinks his teeth into you, your scream is one of pleasure as you reach your high, coating both of their cocks a milky white cream, the liquid falling to their base and dripping down. ‘Samu sinks his teeth into your skin on the opposite side as they both push into your tight cunt, a scream and shiver running through you as the do, their bulbs inflating inside to stretch you even more.

You’re completely stuck, their cocks inside you as they lap at your wounds. It’s only when you squirm do they start talking. “You’ll get used to it,”

“After all we have a week,”

“You’ll be able to take our knots with no problem,”

“All your holes will be used to taking us,”

Their words don’t ease you concern, but the fact that once they leave your warm cunt, they’re still hard and readying you for round two. The heat encompassing your body refuses to leave, their skin as sweaty and hot as yours. With their relentless stamina and obsession with pumping all their seed into you, you’re positive you’ll get pregnant.

[witch-hazels-musings]

🌸 Ask box open WOOOOO, could I ask for Beidou, Diluc and others of your choice, with someone who is exceptionally gifted with animals, and loves nerding out about them🌸

zoology 

Warning -> SFW (Beidou - long hair mentioned) 

Character X GN Reader | anthology 

Includes: Beidou, Diluc, Ganyu

Beidou

She’s already so impressed with you - how could she not be considering how the two of you met

When she saw you fighting a group of smugglers on the docks of Liyue, your hands gripping onto the cages of the animals they were trying to take with them - not caring for your safety in the slightest and taking hit after hit in a desperate attempt to shield the animals inside 

At that moment, she became your shield - your barrier between the harsh reality of the world and promised to keep you safe 

That bright smile behind bruises and cuts as you watched the small creatures find their freedom once again was enough information for her to know what kind of person you were 

Now, every time she returned to Liyue, she was excited to see your face or the sanctuary you had built from the ground up -- you were a human she wished to see more of 

“Y/N? You in here?” She called out to you, her hand pushing past the beads which separated the outside from the in. Animals ran around her feet and, as carefully as she could, she stepped through them. 

“A!H! Beidou??” Your voice called out to her, a crash sounding somewhere in the distance and a small curse following right after. When she found you, the state of your hair - frazzled and half-hazardly placed on top of your head - the long coat you liked to wear pooling beneath your feet as you worked to pick up the items that had fallen, and the reassuring expression you gave to the startled animals around you made her head swim and mouth stretch. 

“Little friends, hold on. That was rather frightful, wasn’t it?” The tone you used was sweet and kind and she watched as a small fox stepped toward you before pressing its nose carefully against yours. “That’s right, see nothing to be worried about.” 

When you caught sight of her, the grin that plastered across your face reached all the way into your eyes. “Need some assistance?” Beidou asked, extending her hand out toward you. 

“I’ll always take some help from my favorite captain.” 

Beidou would often bring you lost or injured animals - it was like you had a knack for helping them recuperate and on the days when she was around to see you release them back into the wild, well the energy that radiated off of you was stronger than a swing of her claymore 

The knowledge that you had about them shocked her, enlightened her, and made her understood why they were so calm when near you -- to have that level of love and compassion for the creatures of the world meant your heart must be as pure as gold 

Ganyu 

Just like you, Ganyu has a high affinity to care for the creatures of this world. She has vowed to protect them just as much as you have, and her spirit feels kindred to your own -- like two wandering souls who found each other in a chaotic world 

It was after a ‘not so eventful’ sparring match with the adeptis Xiao that she found you - quickly, she made her way to offer you assistance and when she found you holding onto an injured animal with tears in your eyes … she wanted to know more, so much more about you 

The two of you raced off to get some aid, the small creatures shook the whole time in your arms, it scratched and bit at you - she could easily see the marks on your skin - but you continued to reassure it of its safety, never once did you react violently or alarmed at its behavior, and after some time it calmed down … it found a home with you and from that point on never left your side 

The apartment which you decorated in the themes of the animals which you took in, or who visited you on a regular day, felt more like home than anything she’d ever seen -- the open windows, the coming and going of beings whose freedom was all their own, and the space you created for them was everything to her kind heart

The items in her hands were getting heavy, but she continued her way over the bridge knowing that the strain would soon be alleviated. The walk to your home was long, but not challenging and soon she found herself strutting down the path only to find you standing outside in the sunlight. 

You were sitting on a small bench, one that you’d find tossed out by some store owner and had worked hard to bring home. Birds flocked to you, some resting on your head, others bouncing around your feet or over your thighs. They were eagerly eating up the crumbs of food that fell to the ground in even intervals. 

“You must have flown so far to reach me.” The way your voice sounded brought comfort to all who heard it. A kind finger brushed against the chest of a bird who had settled onto your shoulder and when you pulled away it preened its feathers and made a soft chirping sound. 

The birds took flight as Ganyu approached, their upset screams sounding as they settled onto the roof of your home. “Pleasant greetings.” Ganyu bowed, her head dipping slightly before returning to its normal place. 

“Hiya!” You leaped from your spot and made your way toward her with unbound energy. “I didn’t expect you.” 

“I uh - I brought you some things from the market.” 

“Oh wow! How generous, thank you.” You reached for the extended back and let the straps rest over your arm. “Are you busy?” 

“N-no, I have the day ---!” With gusto, you grabbed her hand and lead her toward the house. When you looked back at her it was like looking into the brightest star and Ganyu wondered how she got so lucky to have met you on that fateful day. 

She learned much from you - like an endless wealth of knowledge you shared with her fact after fact and no matter how unique the animal, you still knew so much about it 

There were many days where the two of you would just sit out on your porch and chat about the world outside 

Nature and all its creations were so fascinating to you that it seemed you had lived much longer than one lifetime 

Diluc 

It's not that he … hated animals it was more that they never seemed to get along well with him. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so well-liked by the creatures that seemed to despise his very existence 

“Just … If you’d only just leave, then we both wouldn’t be in this situation.” He called to the stray cat that had lodged itself in the corner of his bar. How it managed to get onto the upper shelves he would never understand, all that he knew was it wasn’t proper to have a cat as a patron. 

He reached up to grab it but pulled his hands away when it hissed violently at him. “I can handle abyss mages, drunkards, and all manner of situations … yet it seems I am bested by a simple cat.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he contemplated his next steps. 

There was a ringing at the front entrance and he turned toward the sound only to catch sight of you illuminated by the sunlight. “Hey there.” You smiled at him but he was much too irritated to return the gesture. “Your face is .. worse than normal.” 

“I have a problem I cannot solve.” 

“What is it?” You settled into the barstool, your arms crossing about your chest as you eyed him curiously. 

“There is an unwanted guest here today, I and cannot get them to leave.” Your expression turned to confusion until you tracked the pointed finger to the corner of the bar. 

“OH! A kitty!” Exclaiming, you immediately ran around to his side, not caring in the slightest of the sign that said ‘employee’s only.’ Grabbing the stool under the counter, you carefully stepped your way onto it and extended your hand to the trembling little one. 

“Be careful, it’s quite viole --” In a matter of seconds, the cat had leaped into your arms and was softly purring away. Its face was in utter bliss as you gave it scratches under its chin. Diluc was stunned, nearly gobsmacked at the quickness of its trust toward you. 

“Animals just like me.” 

“So it would seem …” 

There are people in this world that have an unnatural ability to create trust in seconds and you were one of them -- something about the aura you gave off, the energy that spilled from every fiber of your being told those around you there was no need to be distrustful of you -- and Diluc learned that early on 

Not only were you able to tame the animals around you, but you tamed his unsteady heart --- he felt … comfortable, more like himself when you were around and was often drawn to your side when he didn’t expect it 

The only problem was that you also drew animals to you - and most of them were quite protective of the space at your side, if he wanted to stay there, he was going to have to learn to relax a bit 

Though it’s quite fun so see how tense he gets when they land on him … at least he always had you and his trust hawk to keep him company (if he could manage those relationships, he could manage a few more) 

--

tag list: 

@star-gods @mercurysmaiden @dourpeep @clemmywrites @pepperoncinipizza @handswritteeen @lucifucker @beelsdessert @odafashioned @coolcats09 @ninqat @musekala @sufzku @mooshymello  @heavenlyang @plenilunegazes @glazelilyy @justyoureverydayqueer @idunkar @solowmomo @twokissesforamelia @the-mermaid-of-mondstadt @fuwon @goat-mama-breezie @angelmelt @lucacandy @shesleire @mariana @zentoruu @smol-knife @nightlywallows @aoirohi @nitorious-ghost @mguerra11 @maiiikoo @actstfbla @youaskedfurret @nonniechan @evolcahra @tempehlust @zenith-impact @plumpkie @jaggedsi @salty-salty @onlyhereforinteractivestories @gultonluvv @shy-specter @liebestraumss @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @anatthesavage

[teddy06writes]

Platonic ranboo x enderman/human hybrid reader, two bros bonding over being half enderman

platonic! ranboo x enderman hybrid!reader

trigger warnings: none

premise: one day while wandering the forest you stumble into Philza, who upon seeing you immediately decides you need to meet Ranboo, and takes you back to the AAC to meet him

{also my basic thinking for an enderman hybrid would be: also bad at eye contact like Ranboo, (wears goggles to combat this?), can teleport but only small distances usally does acidently when startled, purple enderman like eyes, has the same silk touch thing as ranboo but like, half, so it only applies to certain things, also water doesn’t bother them as much, its like a minor inconvenience}

{also I know Edward is dead now, just let me have this}

“blep” talking

“Blep” Ender speak

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

You hummed quietly to yourself, watching the fat snowflakes drift through the sky as you moved through the forest.

Shivering you tugged at your overcoat, peering around to try and find more berry bushes, Enderpearl, your arctic fox, following along, hoping you would find more food.

A few minutes later you found another bush, quickly stooping to fill as much inventory as you could with the berries, ears seeming to prick up at the sound of someone walking through the snow.

Standing up fully you adjusted your tinted goggles, looking around to try and find the source of the noise, still shivering at the cold.

“Are you alright mate?”

You jumped, purple particles surrounded you as you teleported a few yards away in surprise.

“Woah! How did you do that?”

You turned to see a blond avian hybrid, dressed mostly in green, “Oh- uh- h- hello.”

“How’d you do that?” He repeated, still looking a bit in shock.

“Why?” You asked, quickly defensive, you may have been a good 9 inches taller than him, but you weren’t too keen on fighting him.

“Oh- hey- hey, it’s alright mate, I just meant it was cool,” He held up his hands, as if to say he meant no harm, “Are you a hybrid too?”

Slowly you nodded, Enderpearl quickly running over to you, and you quickly scooped her up, holding her close to your body, still trying to keep the both of you warm.

“I’m Phil.” He offered, smiling.

“(y/n).” You were nearly stuttering from the cold.

“Are you cold (y/n)? You don’t seem very prepared for the climate.” Phil observed.

You nodded, “Enderpearl and me, we normally don’t come out this far, but Enderpearl likes berries and they only grow here.”

Phil nodded, “Are you an Enderman hybrid, by chance?”

“Y- yeah.” You said, reaching up and adjusting your goggles again.

“hmm, I know another enderman hybrid. You seem very cold (y/n), I don’t live to far from here, if you’d like to come warm up. It’s not very safe for you to stay out here.”

You bit your lip, wary, but looking down at Enderpearl, who was trying to curl further into your jacket, you didn’t want her to be cold, “Uh, sure, I guess.”

Phil nodded, turning and motioning for you to follow him, “Come on, You can meet Ranboo.”

“Ranboo?” You questioned, following him through the snow.

“He’s the other Enderman hybrid I know- well, part enderman part something,” Phil explained, “But that parts not important, I don’t think he can teleport but other than that he seems a lot like you.

“I’ve never met someone like me before.” You mumbled.

Phil smiled sadly, “I think that's the case for a lot of hybrids. Come on, it’s just past this clearing.”

A few moments later, as you emerged from the clearing, a rather large cottage came into view, smoke rising steadily from the chimney.

Phil gestured to the small building beside it, “That's where Techno keeps the hound army, Ranboo normally lives in a house he built just past it, but it’s far too cold for me to let him stay out there.”

You nodded, still looking around in slight awe as you followed Phil up the front steps.

“Tech!” Phil called, swinging the door open, “I’m home! I brought company!”

There was no response, and the man sighed, stamping snow off his boots and motioning for you to come all the way into the room, “There probably downstairs messing with the villagers. You can sit by the fire to warm up, I’ll go get them.”

You nodded as he went to climb down the ladder attached to one wall, slowly moving over to the fire and sitting down, Enderpearl on your lap.

“Young one.”

You jumped at the voice, turning to see an Enderman sitting in a boat in the corner of the room, “Oh- uh, hello. Are you- Are you Ranboo?”

The enderman shook his head, warbling, “I am Edward. Take off your coat child, it is far too wet to do anything but dry.”

“I’m (y/n).” You said, quickly shrugging out of your jacket.

~~ “You found another kid?” Techno crossed his arms, “Phil you’ve gotta stop bringing home strays.”

“Techno you can’t even say that, you’re the original stray.” Phil argued.

“He just doesn’t want to be replaced,” Ranboo quipped quietly, pausing to look up from sorting through a chest, “Wait- does that mean I’m a stray?”

Phil chuckled, “Yeah, it does.”

Technoblade groaned, “Phil you can’t just keep bringing kids into my house!”

“Well at least come meet them before you throw them out?” Phil asked, “And let me find them a better jacket. Its too cold for them out there.”

Ranboo watched as they had a silent staring contest, a silent discussion passing between them, until eventually Technoblade relented, grumbling something incoherent.

“Well come on then.” Phil said, motioning to the ladder.

Ranboo stood up, already starting to climb as Techno said, “I hope I don’t regret letting you do this Phil.”

“You won’t.”

Phil’s voice was partially drown out as Ranboo reached the main floor, his ears now filled with the sounds of warbled enderspeak.

He turned to see Edward deep in conversation with someone sitting hunched in front of the fire.

“You speak end?” He asked cautiously, almost hearing Phil chuckling from below.

The person jumped, purple particles flying around there head for a moment before they were gone, reappearing across the room, now next to Edwards boat.

Edward made a noise close to a chuckle, reaching one long arm out of his boat to grab your shoulder to stop your trembling, “That one is Ranboo.”

You nodded slowly, as Ranboo seemed to study you, “Your an enderman hybrid. That's so cool! I’m an enderman hybrid too! I can’t teleport though- its really cool that you can!”

You pushed your goggles up a bit from where they had slipped in the teleport, “Your eyes- why is that one red?”

“Oh- I- we think its whatever my other half is. Are your eyes green too?”

You shook your head, “Purple. How’d you mean you can’t teleport?”

“Haven’t figured it out yet- who taught you?”

You shrugged, “Just kinda knew. I usually only do it when I’m scared though.”

“Maybe you could teach me?” He asked excitedly.

Smiling you nodded, “Sure.”

~~

It was a while later, after the snow had stopped falling, and the sun had partially come out, you and Ranboo headed outside (not before Phil supplied you with a thicker coat), to try and teach him how to teleport.

Phil turned to Techno, who was watching from the window as you and Ranboo were running around laughing, trying to figure out the best way to teach him, “I know what you said about endermen in the house but we could help them with a different house, or they could stay with Ranboo proper-”

“They aren’t staying in the house,” The piglin interrupted, “Well- maybe when its cold- but other than that- not in the house.”

Phil smiled, “I knew you’d come around.”

Technoblade huffed, “I mean it’s probably safer for them here. Besides the kid needs someone like him besides Edward around here.”

The enderman in the corner nodded, also observing you and Ranboo from out the window.

Phil nodded, “Sure, sure.”

Outside you laughed again, “No! Not like that! You’ve gotta feel where you are, and where your gonna be and then just...” You trailed off, particles flying around your head again as you disappeared only to pop out on his other side.

“Okay okay, I think I get it.”

Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to do what you’d said.

You watched as the faintest of particles began to appear around his head, growing stronger- stronger- and then he fell face first into the snow.

“I don’t think this is working.” His response was muffled by the snow.

“Just a bit,” You said helping him up, “Here, hold onto me, and I’ll teleport. That normally works with Enderpearl.”

He nodded, grabbing onto your coat sleeve.

You concentrated, focusing on a spot on top of the dog house, slowly particles filled the air and then- pop! you were both standing on top of the house.

“Woah!” Ranboo exclaimed, looking around, laughing, “That felt weird!”

You nodded laughing, “Now try to teleport off the roof.”

After a while longer of failed attempts, and after being side tracked by Ranboo’s ability to move more than just dirt blocks, the sun began to set, and you headed back inside, still laughing as he recounted the time that he and Techno had spent a whole day wander around collecting spawners.

Sometime later, after dinner, both you and Ranboo had ended up sitting next to Edwards boat, the three of your quietly talking as you started the drift off, Enderpearl back in her spot on your lap.

Phil chuckled, looking over at the three endermen crowded around the boat, two mostly asleep.

Edward looked at him, noding once and warbling out something Techno couldn’t understand, “What’d ‘e say?”

Phil smiled, “Family.”

[taechaos]

A Night of Discovery

pairing: hybrid!Taehyung x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere au, smut

synopsis: For a learning trip, a seemingly innocent fox has taught you to never trust a predator in one day.

warnings: noncon, mention of murder, sadism

word count: 3.3k

a/n: ok so i may have made a moodboard to make up for how bad this is, SUE ME 😭 the request (spoiler warning)

The road is bumpy as the bus navigates through the looming forest, endless pine trees passing by your eyes in a blur. Chatters swirl in the fresh cold air, windows slightly cracked open as you try to sleep for the nth time with your head leaning against the smudged glass. You jolt awake each time, and it’s been two hours since your first attempt because of the reckless driver in the front. You’re clutching your backpack in your lap as you fantasize about the summer, your upcoming graduation.

Being in your final year of high school, the stress has been eating at you, but your biology teacher had the sheer niceness to give her students a break by taking you on a field trip to a marine zoo. It’s related to your syllabus, studying about marine ecology and all, and you were given the freedom to choose an aquatic animal of your choice to make a project on. You aren’t the least bit excited, because the zoo is so huge that your parents had to pay for the night you have to spend in a motel. Walking for hours and searching for one interesting fish is not at all thrilling.

Your body lurches forward when the driver abruptly hits the brakes. You take out your earphones as everyone stands up. The bus doors open with a hiss from the rush of air as students step outside one by one. You are sluggish when you hop on the cement, and the zoo is huge in front of you. The glass panels complement the surrounding greens, and you can catch the crashes of the waves from the shore behind. You can’t see it, and the environment is rather lonely except for the building close by: the motel next to the zoo.

Ms. Kang is directing your classmates to the motel first, and you’re about to follow before you stumble on your shoelaces. You crouch down to tie them, and when your teacher looks back, you say, “I’ll be there in a second!” When they’re inside, you decide to stretch your limbs after sitting in a stiff chair for so long. You walk to the woods by the parking lot, curious about the sights under the grey clouds. The weather is rather gloomy, and it doesn’t exactly help you feel better until you step on the grass ahead of the road. You sling your backpack over your shoulders and start touching the tree trunks out of boredom. It isn't entertaining, but it's relaxing.

A distant growl snaps you out of your sightseeing and you search around with your eyes for the source. The sound is very peculiar, and it has you feeling slightly nervous but undoubtedly curious.

You aim to take a step forward until your name is hollered, and you yell, “I’m here!” You hear hasty footsteps until Jimin appears next to you.

“Ms. Kang is asking for you. It’s your turn to check in,” he informs and you’re about to reply until you hear another growl. It’s louder compared to the previous one, and the both of you look into the forest in fright. It’s drawn out, but it gradually grows quiet. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” you furrow your brows a little anxiously and eventually enter the building with Jimin.

After everyone settled into their rooms, ate in the café provided by the zoo, the real trip began. You have to admit, the aquarium is gorgeous. The blue light reflecting from the water is easy on the eyes, and you’re fawning over all the swimming fish in admiration. There is a guide with you, and you listen to any information that is related to your favorite animals so far. You note down the names as a requirement from the teacher, and research some on your phone throughout your exploration. It’s actually interesting in the beginning, but you do get somewhat bored when a few hours pass. It’s 7PM when the tour ends for the day, and the rest of your time is leisure. 

You’re allowed back in your rooms for the evening, and you rest on the comfortable bed to gain back some of your energy. You’re more interested in the forest just outside, and you take out a box of fruits from your bag before leaving the motel. It’s dark when you munch on a sliced green apple while eyeing the forest. The lights from the motel sign help with your vision and you’re just standing on the empty lot while twirling around absentmindedly. It’s not like you’re close enough with anyone to hang out with them at this time, but it allows you to appreciate the breeze more. You’re wearing a cardigan to keep you warm, and you’re enjoying your time until you hear a whimper. 

You stop in your tracks before inching closer to the sound. It’s pained, or at least you think it is, and you take out your phone to shine a flashlight at the eerie forest. More whimpers resound in your ears, and you timidly trudge into the darkness. You yelp when you feel something soft lightly graze your calves, and jump away before seeing it: it’s the tail of a red fox. You gasp in slight fear because you don’t know if you trespassed or are in danger. The fox stares at you, and you stare back until it quietly whines again. “Awww,” you unintentionally coo. You’re scared when it wraps its fluffy tail around you, but you’re not so intimidated when it starts snuggling into your legs. You crouch to level with it and hesitantly bring your fingers to its head. Its fur is so soft that you wonder if it has been tamed.

“You’re so cute,” you gush in a whisper when it leans into your hand. You retract your hand and take out a blueberry from your container and feed it to the fox. Your heart warms just by watching it chew, and you give it some more. This encounter might be the best part about this trip, because the animal is just so adorable. You want to cry from how overwhelmingly precious and pure it seems with its adoring gaze. You’re grinning brightly as you eat with it, sharing your only snack for this whole expedition. 

You entertain yourself with it for a little while before deciding to go back. You ignore its protests guiltily and bid farewell, “I’ll see you again, cutie.” It’s already been an hour and your legs ache from bending for so long. You know you shouldn’t be out too late, and as you retrace your steps back to the motel, you hear it run off deep into the woods. 

The night is spent tossing and turning in bed because you wanted to sleep early in order to function at 8AM the next morning, but you can’t force it. Surfing through the media or keeping your eyes closed for 15 minutes straight didn’t help in the slightest, and somehow your energy has been increasing instead. The window adjacent to the mattress glares at you with its beauty of the crowd of unsaturated trees. You didn’t bother pulling the curtains because it’s a pleasant view, and the stars that you rarely see in the city shine brightly in the countryside. You think back to your interaction with the fox, and a smile creeps up on your tired face. You want to see it again.

Putting your shirt back on, you’re adjusting your cardigan when you crack open the door of your room. No one’s roaming in the halls, as expected since it’s midnight, but you try to be mindful of your temporary neighbours as you sneakily exit the building. You turn to your left instantly to scurry towards the mysterious forest. You don’t know if the fox is still around, but you whistle lowly anyway. Twigs snap beyond your vision, and you warily wait for something to happen. 

An extremely loud growl rips a tiny scream out of you and you immediately flinch backwards. You’re frozen in your spot, almost paralyzed as the growls continue. It’s confusing because the noise is more like an aggressive hiss, and it’s unlike anything you’ve heard before. It suddenly switches to a whimper, a plea. You don’t know if you have to break a fight between two animals, but it doesn’t matter when your curiosity takes over and makes you confidently (albeit feigned) stride into the jungle. 

As if your actions are being encouraged, the whimpers grow more desperate and you take slow steps while watching out for any predators waiting to attack. You’re trembling in fear, but then your fox also might need help… 

The motion is way too quick for you to process and you let out a blood curdling scream when you’re tackled to the ground. You don’t stop screaming even when your mouth is covered, muffling your cry for help. 

“Calm down,” a honeyed rich voice tells you, soothing with its calm tone, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You quiet down and peek at the assailant through heavy lids. A confused hum catches in your throat upon seeing batlike ears that poke through dark hair. They easily blend in together, and you scrutinize his features and notice a swishing bushy tail behind the man on top of you. Terror dawns in your eyes, though the man looks fairly tranquilent by the ordeal.

“You fed me earlier,” he recounts and slowly removes his hand from your face. You’re gawking up at him as he clarifies, “Fox hybrid.” You squeak when his tongue darts out to lick your cheek and chuckles at your expression.

“What a-are you doing?” you snivel shakily. 

He gently tucks a stray strand behind your ear before answering nonchalantly, “Scenting my precious doll. You’re so pretty, and kind… and naive.” 

Your breaths quicken when he leans into you, but he conveniently misses your lips to bury his face into your neck. The fur on his pointy ear tickles your jawline, and you’re startled when he starts to sniff you. You feel him lick your sensitive skin and clench your fists with a mewl. You’re utterly terrified by the discovery of a new species, who also seems to be very strong and stealthy. He’s handsome, gifted with a heart shaped face and a set of charming black eyes with full lips, but it’s not important when he’s crushing you with his weight to keep you in place. His mouth and nose are all over you as they explore your taste and smell, and his satisfaction is evident with his sighs of bliss.

“I couldn’t get enough of you earlier,” he reveals with a subtle moan, “I've never had the experience of smelling something so delicious. It's fortunate that you're so easy to fool.” The only thing that you do know about foxes is how cunning they are, but you didn’t think one would land you in this situation. You’re heaving to breathe with a struggle, but he pays no mind to it. “I can’t wait to claim you.”

Despite rendering you immobile, he sounds more desperate and needy than you do; as if he’s the weaker one, like the roles are switched. You might be able to use that to your advantage… “I would love that,” you choke out, though you have no idea what he means by his words, “but I can’t move. I-I want to kiss you.” You want to smack your forehead for coming up with such a terrible lie; you don't even know if his intention is to kiss you.

“Yeah?” he drawls seductively and withdraws his knees from your thighs, most likely leaving a bruise from how hard he dug them in. He holds himself up by his palms that previously clung onto your shoulders and limits your peripheral vision. Your eyes trail to his defined collarbone for a short moment, the moonlight casting a shadow over his fine features. “Kiss me then.”

You inhale sharply before raising your leg to kick him, but his reflexes are faster than yours as he prevents it with one knee. He tuts, “I’m offended; I thought you found me cute.” A knowing smile graces his pink lips, and it doesn’t falter even when you open your mouth to scream again. His calloused hand immediately silences you before you can make any noise, and his other hand reaches down to your lower region. “I even wore a pretty outfit for you today. Such an ungrateful doll...” 

He tugs on your pajama shorts, dragging them down to your knees along with your underwear. You shake your hand and beg unintelligibly, “Please don’t.” You clench your thighs together, but he forces them open and leans back to take your bottoms off completely. The weather feels like it’s dropped to negative degrees as you shiver and he gently hushes you when you begin to sob. 

“Oh doll, there’s no reason to cry yet,” he sighs in fake empathy, “I just really, really want to fuck you.” He heaves his shirt over his head, and that’s when you get a glimpse of his so-called “pretty outfit”. The black garment is familiar because it's the merchandise of an indie band with its flamboyant logo; you know you’ve seen someone else wear it today. He has to use both hands to take it off completely, and once it’s off, your wails echo in the deserted land as he ties it around your mouth. It’s Jimin’s outfit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me. I love having your attention.” His voice is a mere breath, filled with anticipation to touch you.

He slides down to your knees as he continues to undress himself. He’s throbbing under the uncomfortable fabric of the tight jeans, and instead of attacking him with your now free hands, you cover your face stained with tears as you cry. You feel like you’re having a heart attack as your gut churns in defeat; there’s no point in fighting a man who might’ve killed your classmate, a fox no less.

The moment his pants are down his thighs, his stiff length grazes his stomach before he palms it and rubs himself up and down your folds. Your heat is damp with your natural discharge, but it’s so warm and he feels so aroused as a moan slips past his luscious lips. “You must think I’m so rude,” he whispers and hovers over your face, “I haven’t even introduced myself and yet I’m already marking you.”

He whines cutely at a particular tingle before saying, “My name’s Taehyung. I’d love to hear you moan it, but you’re just so naughty.” His emphasis is airy, and you’re terrified by the contrast of his soft tone and rough actions. He’s calculated, but also very reckless; almost amateur as he begins to position himself by your entrance.

Your words are gibberish as you repeat: “No, no, please no!” He clicks his tongue in response and locks eyes with you just before he shoves his cock inside, no adjustment whatsoever as his pitch grows higher in wonderment. He’s down to the hilt, and the fabric in your mouth isn’t enough to drown out your scream of pain. The stretch is excruciating. His eyes screw back as he loses himself in you, and it’s as if he’s lost all control when he starts slamming into you at an unforgiving pace. 

As opposed to your protests, he starts chanting, “Yes, yes, fuck yes, my perfect little doll.” He’s never had intercourse with a human before, but it’s not up for comparison when he’s feeling so heavenly because of your tightness. You’re pulsating around him, walls clenching in discomfort because you’re in so much agony. You push his shoulders, but it’s futile as he doesn’t budge in the slightest; he almost appears possessed, but his loud moans disprove the theory. 

He can’t form coherent words, and neither can you. If you weren’t in such a shock, you’d be encouraging him to be louder in case anyone is nearby to help you. You thrash under him, but your movements are limited because of his firm build. You beg and beg, but he is animalistic with his chase for his high. The sound of slapping skin have no pauses in between because of his pace, and dare he admit that the predator in him enjoys your attempts at getting away. It makes it so much more fun for him, but he’s unable to savour it from how your pussy sucks him in so deliciously. "You feel so fucking good, I'm going crazy."

Once he’s gained some of his sensibility back, he latches onto your neck to lick and bite you. You pull at his hair to yank him away, his canine teeth sinking into your flesh for a second before he moves onto another spot. His torture is endless, and his growls scare you enough to remove your hand and shake like a leaf under him. He wants to taste all of you, and you can't serve as an obstacle.

“Pet my ears,” he grunts, “touch me, touch me, dolly.” 

The initial pain is starting to subside, and your thoughts are coming together although they’re hazed. You’re still aching, but you know he just dropped you a hint; the sooner he’s satisfied, the earlier this nightmare ends. Your fingertips stroke the back of his twitching ear. His fur is so velvety, and petting him is the least bad part about this experience. You must be doing something right, because he’s getting so noisy that there’s no way someone would miss you now. You suck your teeth with a hiss as he sets an impossibly rapid rate, rearranging your guts with every snap of his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cries breathlessly. His release washes over him as spurts of cum paint your throbbing walls in white, and you’re relieved that this is the end. 

His intakes of air are hot on your skin as his breath fans the crook of your neck. Your stomach drops the moment he murmurs his next words, “I want to do it again.”

“Hey!” a gruff voice interrupts his huffs, and your whole world lights up when you see a man in a uniform with a flashlight over your heaving nude bodies. Taehyung is surprised that he didn’t catch the man’s footsteps when he walked over. “This is indecent exposure, you know–” the security officer goes quiet in shock when he notices the perk of Taehyung’s ears, and then the stiff, unmoving tail behind. “What the fuck?”

Taehyung rolls off of you before disappearing from your sight in a single second. He is stealthy and quick, and his footsteps are light when he leaves; presumably shifting as he goes. The guard attempts to chase after him before stopping in front of you. His eyes trail down your figure before he looks away in disgust. “Goddammit, kid, put your clothes back on.” 

“Thank you so much,” you choke on your tears of joy as you ignore the ache in your thighs, the swelling in your heart and your suffocating turmoil. You stand up on wobbly knees and slowly dress yourself. The officer has his back facing you while you change, and you’re grateful he doesn’t witness how fragile you are. 

“What are you thanking me for?” he asks after a moment of prolonged silence.

“H-He was raping me,” you speak in a hushed tone, “and I think h-he killed my classmate.”

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll go notify the police. Are you staying in the motel?”

When you return back to your room with the company of your savior, you’re hurting everywhere and sleep comes to you easily from all the crying you’ve done. You wake up from a knock on your door, and it’s early in the morning as your teacher says, “Pack up dear, we’re leaving in half an hour.”

They found the clothes, you note when you limp outside with your bag dragging you down. There are dried tear stains on your cheeks when you step on the open bus, and you see a bunch of cops surrounding the forest through the window. Jimin isn’t inside, and you shake your head with pursed lips as sobs bubble up in your throat. This feels nothing short of a nightmare. 

The class is informed of Jimin’s disappearance after taking off, and you lean your head against the window as the driver recklessly drives. Your vision is blurred with tears as you watch the forest, but it doesn’t distort it enough for you to miss the flash of a blood red tail skip between the trees, following the path of your transport.

After all, foxes are known for being fast. There’s no way this one wouldn’t be able to track you down sooner or later, your scent bringing you back to him.

[priortoallthoughts]

Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Nap

(He’s not the one they’ll have to deal with if they do)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Does me almost crying while writing soft Fox thoughts count as a warning?

Summary: Fox works too hard and is in much need of a break and damnit you’re going to do something about it.

A/N: Big thank you to @lackofhonor for the idea for this addition to my Commander Fox series 💕

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] // [Part 5]

Masterlist

You try not to pay attention to the weird looks you’re getting as you march to Fox’s office clutching your softest pillow and blanket from home. Actually, it’s not as weird as you think. Everyone looks thoroughly entertained at your antics as you pass them. It’s not like they’re going to stop you either way.

You stash your stuff by the side of Fox’s door before you key it open. He looks up and raises his eyebrows in surprise at you standing there. Considering it’s noon and not your usual day off, it makes sense for him to question it.

“Exactly how busy are you right now?” You ask, not moving from the doorway.

He smiles. “For you? Not very.”

You grin in return and grab your things from the floor. “Good. You’re taking a nap with me.” You walk to his couch and pull it out, setting everything up how you need.

“Cyare,” he laughs. “I do still need to work.”

You make your way over to him, still smiling. You card your fingers through his hair and press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”

Tugging on his hands does nothing to actually move him, not that you really think it will, but it’s worth a shot. In fact, he tugs you back in return and you stumble straight into his lap. This happens a lot, you realize belatedly.

“That’s not fair,” you pout, not at all opposed to your position.

Fox gives you that stupid smug smirk that still sets your heart a flutter no matter how many times you see it. “Your engagement strategy could use some work.”

“Come on.”

You kiss him.

“Come lay down.”

Kiss.

“You’re exhausted.”

Kiss.

“You know I can see it.”

Kiss.

“Are you trying to convince me or seduce me?” Fox interrupts, pulling back just far enough to be out of immediate range of your lips. He doesn’t try to hide his grin though.

You tilt your head innocently and bat your eyelashes. “Yes.”

Loathe as you are to get off him, you do, slipping away with ease and attempt to pull him up again. He follows you this time, much to your surprise, and you end up guiding him to the couch. It’s not actually that big of a mattress when it’s pulled out, but you’re not going to complain about having to get closer to fit. Did you plan it that way? No. But if anyone asks, yes you did.

You lay down after Fox and he shifts around so you’re both sharing the pillow. He pulls the blanket up too, but not all the way. There isn’t really a need for it in his office besides comfort.  

“Thank you for indulging me,” you whisper.

Fox pulls you even closer and you can feel him press his lips to your head. “I’ll do anything you ask, cyare.”

You squint at him suspiciously. “Why’d I have to convince you then?”

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I wanted to see what you would do.” He shrugs.

“Rude!” You thump him on his chest plate but you’re laughing soon after. So is he.

“Let’s get some rest. Isn’t that why you came here?”

“Kriffin’ right.”

Fox drifts off before you, which just goes to show how tired he really is. You lay there watching his chest rise and fall slowly. You brush your fingers lightly over his armor where your hand rests in front of you. You almost never see him this relaxed in his office. Or at all really. You’re glad you can give him this, even in the middle of the day. Especially in the middle of the day because you’re certain he doesn’t take any break at all regularly.

You’re content to stay in his arms just like this, dozing off easily knowing there was no safer place to be than right where you are.

—-

Fox isn’t actually asleep. He knows you want him to get some rest but it’s hard when something could happen at any moment. Being ready for anything and general paranoia go hand-in-hand in his line of work. Plus, if he falls asleep now he won’t be able to see how peaceful you look sleeping next to him. Nor would he be able to think about how right this all feels. He wasn’t lying when he said he would do anything you ask.

And he’ll say it as many times as he can, he’s probably the luckiest man in the galaxy. Definitely the luckiest of his vode. You really are perfect. He’d yell it from the top of the senate building if he didn’t think he would be decommissioned for it. He’ll risk everything for you, but the last thing he wants to do is leave you alone like that. Not after everything you’ve done for him.

You’re stuck with him now, but he has a feeling that if he said that to you, you’d just turn it around and say he’s stuck with you too. Like he would ever be mad about that.

He’s never thought about what would happen after the war before. It’s never-ending in his mind, even if he’s not on the front lines. He still wishes he was, but that feeling lessens every time he’s with you. If he had been out who-knows-where in the galaxy, he never would have met you. You would have never even gotten as close as you are to his vode if you hadn’t been drawn to the mess by the smell of his caf.

You definitely would’ve still been arrested though; of that he has no doubt.

His little fighter, you are.

So he thinks of after the war, whenever that will be, and he sees you there with him. You still have caf together every morning, but now it’s fresh from a pot in the kitchen of the house you share. You’ll move off Coruscant, because he knows all the bad things that go on in even the smallest shadows. It’s a terrible place to live. The top levels are too guilded; the bottom levels are too dangerous.

So a different planet, and one that doesn’t have such a political presence in the galaxy.

Maybe he sees a few kids eventually too. He isn’t sure about that yet though. That’s a conversation you both need to have before thinking too much more about it. But if things happen to go that way, he shudders to think what a bunch of mini-hims running around could do. Even worse, a bunch of mini-yous. But both of you mixed together in many tiny beings? They’d take over the galaxy by the time they’re ten.

And even if things don’t go that way and you don’t want kids, as long as you’re together… yeah, that’s really the best kriffing thing.

—

You’re not sure how long you manage to be asleep for, because you startle awake what feels like a minute later by the door to Fox’s office opening. By some miracle, Fox stays asleep, and you turn your head carefully to look at Stone standing there. He raises one eyebrow at what must be one of the oddest sights he’s probably ever seen stepping into this office.

You press a finger to your lips in an obvious sign to be quiet. Then you drag your thumb across your throat in an even more obvious sign that you will hurt him if he wakes Fox up.

Stone’s lips quirk up into a smirk before he raises his hands in surrender, pointing at the data pad in his hand and then to Fox’s desk. You give him the go-ahead and turn back into Fox to get comfortable again. The door slides closed behind you a few seconds later.

“You know I’m awake, right?” Fox murmurs above you, eyes still closed.

“No you’re not,” you say back.

“What exactly did you threaten him over?”

“You’ve got a new data pad on your desk.”

Fox groans lowly. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not awake yet.”

His thumb starts rubbing your side unconsciously. There’s no more intent behind it other than comfort and you shuffle closer so his hand splays over your lower back. It’s warm even through your shirt and you sigh in contentment. You’ll never get tired of the feel of his hands on you. He squeezes you once and you look up at him in question.

“So how are you here? What about your work?” He asks.

“I took the rest of the day off.”

“Just to take a nap?”

You smile sweetly at him. “Just for you. The nap is a bonus.”

He dips his head down to peck your lips, and you chase them back up when he pulls away. He gives in, of course, and you take the time to slowly kiss each other breathless. It’s easy to get lost like this. There’s no rush - no need to go any further to feel how much harder your heart can beat because of him. And you’re sure that if he wasn’t wearing armor, you’ll be able to feel his beat just as hard for you too.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Fox hums in acknowledgement.

“I love you.”

His eyes are on yours a second later. Though you can barely see the difference between his pupil and the deepest brown of his iris, you know exactly what they look like as they slowly dilate. They’re especially beautiful when they catch the sunlight at just the right angle and literally light up. Absolutely mesmerizing.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.”

You don’t need to be a genius to figure out he just said he loves you too. Which is good because telling him that, no matter how long you’ve felt it, is a spur of the moment decision. You’re glad you did though. You didn’t know when there would be another moment like this.

Soft cuddling, dozing off to the sound of his breath puffing above you, the feel of him pressing up against you.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

And you love him.

[17caratssi]

Wonwoo! Will you stay

Jeon Wonwoo! First short series pt one | two | three | four Wonwoo is a new student of Sejong High. Coming from a low-status family, he always keeps himself aloof, isolated and cares less about anyone. However, his effort to lie low during the first day goes down the drain.

10th July

The chill breeze greets the morning, awaken the sleepy eyes. Cars are in the line to drop the students at the entrance. The young faces radiate with smiles as they chat about what's filled their summer holiday.

New semester and the entrance of highly anticipated new students into Sejong Elite High School.

Every year, Sejong High will take in new students in the second half. While the school only accepts kids with upper-class family backgrounds in the prefecture, the special students are usually first-class newcomers or scholarship privileged.

Everyone knows when a new student is enrolled with a scholarship. They are distinct from others who are registered under their family's status. They just know.

These smart students are the minority, and more often than not, their voices would not be heard by the higher-ups when they are bullied. It's like these few people have to walk on the icy pond. Everything is at stake.

Jeon Wonwoo is a lucky guy. He made it to the school, albeit coming from a poor family in a rural area. He has 6 siblings, and he is the oldest. The breadwinner in the house has disappointed them and left the family 2 years ago, leaving everything in Wonwoo's hands.

However, the only good thing about his father is his peculiar gene, and that's how Wonwoo ends up getting all A's despite all the external shortfalls.

He lacks time at school, and he would sleep during lectures. Having no friends, he is always a step behind the others. He makes no effort to befriend anybody, and he cares less about it.

Wonwoo walks to his class that is on the highest floor and only at the top. He learns that there's transportation, called the elevator, to bring students between the levels.

"Isn't summer just ended? Why is he sweating in this air-conditioned environment?" a girl with her friend makes a remark as they arrive at their class. The friend chuckles and scans Wonwoo and quickly realizes.

"No wonder, it's a nerdy~."

"Oof. I hope he's not our classmate," the two of them laugh girlishly.

Wonwoo listens but pays no heed to them. He continues to search for his class until he finds the match.

Damn, this stupid school is big...

Wonwoo's solitude would have him go unnoticed the whole day. As such, he uses the back door to come into the class. He looks around before he grabs a vacant chair. As he tugs the chair, the screeching sound stimulates the other's interest. Suddenly, the class gets heated up by the behaviour of the new student.

Murmurs here and there. Boys and girls are all talking about him.

There are only 3 new students; a girl from overseas, a boy whose father is a 'sangsa', and an ordinary boy who benefitted from a scholarship.

[Sangsa is a Korean military rank equivalent to an American master sergeant.]

The talk goes on for so long that Wonwoo gets sleepy from the attention he received. It's probably half an hour later, the sliding door is slammed open.

Wonwoo startles due to the loud noise made by you. He squints his eyes and watches as you walk to your desk, which is nowhere to be found. You are a new student as well.

It's normal for the new face to directly go to the back of the class, so you can instantly tell that the lonely, cute guy is a newcomer.

"You new?" You ask.

Fox is your first impression of him.

Wonwoo nods slightly. You also nod in acknowledgement and takes a chair next to him to sit. You extent a hand for a handshake but get no response from him. You take it as him being timid to new people and brush it off.

"I'm Y/N. You?"

He frowns. 10 seconds later, he speaks. "Do you talk to strangers?"

"You don't?" You ask in curiosity. "Oh, maybe cultural difference?"

Probably, but Wonwoo has no experience dealing with a girl. A bold one in specific.

"So, what's your name?"

Did she get it or not? She'll stop if I ignore her, right? Just like the others...

You don't stop looking at Wonwoo. He is handsome, and you admit that his nose is quite adorable.

"Can I touch your nose?" you ask with your finger already touching the thing.

Wonwoo's surprise look entertains you. He glares at you, and that alone makes you withdraw your finger.

"Are you dense or something?" Wonwoo comments and realizes that his accent is exposed.

You, a Korean practically spending most of her life in America, can't fathom his scolding but take in that he is angry. Sheepishly, you purse your lips and apologize. "Sorry, I sometimes act on impulse. It's just that your nose is boopable..." your voice slows down in volume in the second half.

I'm sorry, but not really...

However, Wonwoo suddenly stands up and drags his chair away from you.

Being treated that way, you impudently raised your voice, asking. "Where are you going?"

And yet, he still pretends to be deaf and shun you off.

Wonwoo settles down at the opposite corner. Noticing the non-existent desks for you and him, you voice out.

"Is there no desks for us? I thought you guys are prepared to take the new students but I guess not," your hands akimbo and lips mumbling complaint.

The whole class turns their heads to you, except Wonwoo.

"The new kid is sure cranky. It's not anyone's job to prepare you a desk," a guy in the front seat retort as he turns around.

His seatmate laughs and agrees without speaking.

The guy deliberately speaks out loud, but it seems that you don't catch at it. The former snickers and resumes playing with his phone.

Thank goodness, the desks are being delivered just before the class by the clerks. They arrange for the two desks to be placed side-by-side at the far left of the class.

You choose the left side since it's beside the window, and Wonwoo cannot help but pick the remaining. You like the positioning, but it goes for the opposing to him.

You smile as you watch Wonwoo creates a gap between their desks. He then continues to persistently act like you aren't there pestering him.

The lesson soon begins.

Actually, you find it difficult to adapt to the new environment. During the math class, you're the only one that takes out a calculator, and during the interval, it's also you who takes a nap.

It makes you pout. There's nothing to keep you excited apart from the person next to you.

You look to your right and see Wonwoo studying with his glasses on. His glasses are of the old model, but it looks good on him. You don't know why this guy just attracts your attention that you blurt out the next second.

"Hey, do you want to be my boyfriend?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

[ray-ray-writings]

drabble idea: after Wilbur is killed by Phil, Fundy finds a smol arctic fox hybrid reader and cuz they're both foxes and the hybrid child looks abandoned, he adopts them. Then Ghostbur shows up and Fundy doesn't want him to have anything to do with his child. maybe some other relationships for fluff??? i'm just craving this rn -💍

So imagines won right? I sit down and go to write the imagine, and I just end up staring at a blank screen for what felt like forever. I know I said I would give you the option but I honestly couldn’t put anything in my brain for it. And because I spent so long staring at it, I lost a lot of time and so this is the only post for tonight…. I feel so bad. I’m sorry guys, I should have more stuff tomorrow. <3

TW: Parental abandonment.

This idea is so cute though. 

So we all know that Wilbur wasn’t the best father. He really messed Fundy up and gave him some of those good good daddy issues to where he has a hard time trusting people. But I think that he would be out on a walk, clearing his mind, trying to think of anything but his father. He’d be in a snowy biome when he hears footsteps. At first he thinks it’s a mob of some kind, so he draws his weapon and creeps toward the sound. He catches sight of something white and at first he thinks it’s a skeleton, but then the thing moves again and he can very clearly see it’s an ear, a white fluffy ear… That’s odd. “Hello?” he finally decides to call out. There is a small squeak and a lot of rustling. When he wasn’t attacked, he figured it safe to move forward. He carefully approached and as he pushed some of the bushes out of the way to reveal a small child. In one quick glance he could tell this was no ordinary child. It was an arctic fox hybrid, the fluffy white ears and tail a dead give away. In his glance, he could also tell this child was in rough shape. Their clothes were tattered and torn allowing him to see just how skinny they were. His heart ached for the poor child, “Hello little one,” he greets softly, “What are you doing out here?” 

You’d been on your own for a really really long time now. Your parents had brought you out here, told you to stay put, and left. You listened and so you waited for them to come back. But as the days went on, you began to understand what had happened. But nevertheless, you sat there and waited. Munching on the berries of the bushes, but it never quite fills your stomach. One day as you’re moving from bush to bush, a voice calls out. It startles you and you can’t help but let out a squeak as you fall to the ground in surprise. The bushes shuffle a bit and from over the top you find an orange headed man peering at you curiously. His eyes scan you quickly before he speaks, “Hello little one,” his voice soft and comforting as he speaks, “What are you doing out here?” You give him a little shrug and allow yourself to look him up and down. You’re heart thuds a little faster as you notice that he is also a fox hybrid with orange and black ears, an orange and white tail, and sharp canines poking out from his lips. “Where are you parents?” he tries again. Again, you give a little shrug and figuring you can trust this man, you speak, “Gone… Let me here.” His heart breaks at your sad and defeated tone. “They left you here? All by yourself? When did they leave?” Another shrug, “Two… three….. Weeks.” you mumble, looking down to the berry bushes, your fingers grazing them carefully. Fundy’s heart burns in anger as he thinks about how horrible your parents were for leaving their obviously amazing child to die in the woods. He’s about to speak when your stomach grumbles loudly causing you to flush in embarrassment. “Hungry?” Fundy asks, then mentally smacks himself. Of course you’re hungry your stomach just rumbled. But you nod sheepishly, still plucking at the leaves. “How would you like to come home with me. I can fix you up some fish. I have lots of fish at my house. You could eat as much as you’d like and you could stay as long as you want.” Not even caring if this guy was lying to you, you accept his offer, simply desperate to get out of the woods. Your head slowly rises from the bushes as you stare at Fundy who is smiling at you ever so softly with an outstretched hand. Carefully you raise your own arm and gently rest your hand in his, shivering at the warmth that spreads throughout your palm. “Let’s get going then kiddo.” 

Fundy leads you out of the forest and towards his house. As you two walk, you two talk… Well he does a lot of the talking and you give small answers here and there. You tell him your name and he tells you his. He talks about where you’re going and how it’s extremely safe there and how he thinks you’ll like it. He leads you inside his house, sits you at the table, before making up some fish for you and him. He places the plate down in front of you and before he can sit to eat his own meal, yours is finished. To say he’s shocked is an understatement, but he quickly remembers you were out in the forest all alone for two to three weeks, maybe longer with nothing but berries. You’re looking at him super embarrassed, like you want to ask for more but are too scared too. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, walking back over to you, setting his own plate down in front of you, picking up the empty one, “You don’t have to feel bad. Like I said, I have plenty of fish, eat as much as you like.” And so you do. You eat until you’re so full you can barely move. Your eyes are sleepily closing and then jerking back open as you try to force yourself to stay awake. Fundy notices this and laughs quietly to himself. Your eyes close for a little while, giving Fundy enough time to put his plan into action. He quickly stands up, moves to you, picks you up, and carries you to his bed. He carefully lays you down, tucks you in, and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep well darling,” he mumbles, not thinking much of it. “Thanks dad” you mumble back, clearly out of it. But the simple word stops Fundy’s heart before a huge smile grows on his face. He decides that he wants you to be his child, if you want. He can feel a connection and a strong desire to care and love for you and he wants to be that strong father figure that he himself did not have. The next morning when you wake up, you don’t remember what you said obviously. You also plan to leave and go back to the forest. You would thank Fundy for feeding you but you already feel you've overstayed your welcome. You make your way down to the kitchen, ready to tell the man who saved you, who you don’t want to leave, goodbye. Fundy is standing over the stove and at the sound of your footsteps his head turns and he grins brightly at you, “Hey kiddo! Have a seat! Eggs are almost done! I hope you like them scrambled!” Not wanting him to feel bad, you do as you’re told and decide to tell him after breakfast. True to his word, the eggs don’t take that much longer and soon he’s served you some eggs. You two eat together, talking a bit about how you both slept and stuff. And after you’re done, you’re just about to tell him but then he begins to tell you about his plans for the day and asks if you want to tag along and you do. You really do. It is then you decide that you’ll stay until Fundy asks you to leave, and if that means you’re staying forever… So be it. 

Okay on to some more general headcanons and less plot type stuff haha

You two help each other in grooming your ears and tails all the time. I feel like they can be hard to get perfectly clean by yourself so you two do it together as a bonding activity. You would do Fundy’s first because it takes less time. Fundy does a lot of it and you just get the hard to reach spots and stuff, and makes sure there is no spot left unclean. However, when it’s your turn, Fundy takes complete control. He will make you just sit there and let him groom and take care of you. He is so careful as he does it. He cleans your ears and your tail carefully, making sure no dirt is left. And then he takes the time to carefully brush out the hair and make it very soft and very fluffy. It feels so nice. I would imagine you didn’t have the nicest parents, they literally left you in a forest to die, so you never got this special treatment or attention for your ears or tail. So the first time you two did this, you would be so confused. You didn’t understand what was happening or why you were being treated so kindly, which broke Fundy’s heart. I feel that’s also partly why he doesn’t let you help because he wants to make sure that you know that you will be loved and cared for as long as he’s in your life. 

So that being said, you two are so affectionate with each other. Like you curl up together and cuddle on the couch all the time. It has a lot to do with the fox side of both of you. It feels really nice to be pressed against family of your own ‘breed’ so to speak. A lot of the time it’s a lot of you sitting on his lap or laying on top him while he holds you tightly. Again, he wants to make sure that you feel loved and wanted. 

I feel like it wouldn’t take you long to call him dad. Like you accidentally did the first night, but you weren’t really awake for it. But I do feel like it would be a slip of the tongue on your part again. Just he does something for you and you give a quick “thanks dad” before you dead stop and stare at him. His eyes are also wide and filling with tears. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It just that you have taken care of me from the moment I got here and I--” Fundy would cut you off by pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s okay Y/N. It really is. It would be an honor if you called me your father” he tells you. Your heart soars in your chest as you hug him back. “Okay… Thank you dad.” You two go to sleep that night with the biggest smiles on your faces that you’ve ever had.

…….. Speaking of dads….. Ghostbur comes back. One day there is a knock on the door. You’re both confused because no one should be coming over to your knowledge. But Fundy gets up and he opens the door and his confusion turns into anger. “What are you doing here?” He spits out. You slowly make your way to the front room, hiding behind a wall but peeking your head around the corner to see what was happening. There in front of your father stood an extremely pale man in a yellow sweater and a red beanie. “Hello Fundy!” the man greets, oblivious to Fundy’s harsh tone, “I came to visit you! I wanted to see my son!” A gasp catches in your throat, this was your dad’s dad. He hadn’t told you much about him, he just told you that he used to be close with his father but as he grew more obsessed with politics, that bond broke bit by bit until it was completely severed by his death. “Well that sucks because I don’t want to see you. Go away now” Fundy snaps back, waving him off. Ghostbur catches his harsh tone now and a frown settles on his face, “Fundy please. I want to talk. I want to mend what was broken. You’re my son and-” “And nothing. You should have thought about that before you went and blew up our nation and then got stabbed by grandpa… So goodbye now.” Fundy moves out of the doorway and goes to close the door. When he moved out of the doorway though, he accidentally gives Ghostbur a direct line of sight of you peeking around the corner. He lets out a gasp and points, “Fundy who’s that.” Fundy looks over his shoulder and pales a little but because oh fuck. This is the last thing he wanted to happen. He clears his throat and looks back to the ghost of his father. “That’s Y/N… My kid” “I have a grandchild?” “No you don’t because you are no father of mine. Now if you’ll excuse me” and before Ghostbur can respond, Fundy has slammed the door closed. You’re a little worried as to what he’s going to say to you so you speak first after you walk all the way in, “I’m sorry” you whisper. “No, no, no baby. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.” The rest of the day, Fundy is a little off. He tries to act normal but you can tell something is off. You don’t call him out on it though, you just let him do him. 

But yeah. Fundy does everything in his power to keep you away from Ghostbur. He does not care a single bit if Ghostbur isn’t Wilbur, they were both still his father that practically abandoned him and so therefore he will not be around his child. His child will only be surrounded by those who love them unconditionally and will always love them. If you and him are out and public and Ghostbur appears, Fundy will take you back home. He doesn’t care if what he is doing is super important, he will leave and take you home. He also will not let Ghostbur in his home. Ghostbur does show up occasionally, hoping to catch another glance of you, but Fundy barely opens the door to the point where Ghostbur can hardly see him. Fundy will let Phil, Techno, and Tommy see you occasionally which hurts Ghostbur a lot, but there is nothing he can do about it. Fundy does not want his ghost father to be anywhere near his child. 

But Fundy would be an amazing father. He knows what it’s like to be/feel abandoned by a parent and to feel ignored in a world full of family. So he makes sure you never feel like that. He loves you so much and makes sure you know that. Fundy would do anything for you, give anything for you. He loves you so much. His precious baby child. 

Okay that ending sucked lololol. Again, I’m very sorry that this is the only post tonight. I got a much later start than I planned and it fucked everything. I’ll see you guys with more content tomorrow though (hopefully).

[accio-slytherout]

Mischief Managed

Concept by @helliontherapscallion

Pairings: p!sbi x reader, p!dreamXD x reader, c!Philza x reader (could be taken as platonic/romantic)

characters: TommyInnit, Ph1lza Minecraft, Wilbur, Technoblade, Captain Puffy

mentioned characters: Fundy

Warnings: Fighting, blood, swearing, pranks, trickery (?), shouting (tell me if I missed anything!)

in game dsmp!au

summary: Reader is the god of mischief and trickery. After catching up with their old friend and his family, they got into a fight with the god of the server, dreamXD.

Not proofread

note: reader does not act like peeves! sorry in advance! i really liked this concept, i just had to write it. i put more effort into this than i did on my social studies essay. was fun to write :D straying from canon lore! I was not sure how to write dreamXD's text, so i wrote it in normal text! i am not very good and pranking, and not that creative or smart on those kind of things, so I will not really specify what is going on in the pranking.

flachbacks in italic

masterpost

------

(Y/N) was just skipping around the forest, looking for flowers to make some dye when they stumbled upon a boy that was picking some red flowers.

"WHAT THE F*CK" he shouted with a strong British accent. "Who the f*ck are you?" he continued. "Well who are you child?" they retorted.

"WHAT THE- IM NOT- THE FU- IM NOT A F*CKING CHILD IM A BIG MAN" the 'Big Man' as he called himself retorted, stumbling over his words. He heard a very mischievous laughter come out of the random person he stumbled upon, and he chose to put up the angriest face he could and crossed his arms.

"The name's (Y/N). How about you, big man?" they finally replied with a slight mocking tone. "Tommy. What are you doing here? I've never seen you around before." answered Tommy.

"I'm looking for some dye, so I can dye Fundy's fur" they replied, rather mischievously? Well, point is, Tommy's eyes lit up at the mention of pranking the fox. "Could I maybe help you?" he replied with an equally mischievous tone.

Thats how a friendhip started. They caused pure havoc around the server. Pranking the first person they thought of. They were laughing their butts off on the bench.

"TOMMYINNIT YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Panic rose in their chests as they slowly swallowed and turned around. There stood Captain Puffy looking very angry... with bright pink covering her entire body. They tried their best to hold in their laughter, as she did not look very intimidating.

Yet, Tommy could not help but to start laughing loudly. That pushed (Y/N) over the edge and started laughing hysterically, and they swore they saw Puffy crack a smile at the sight.

"Im- sor- sorry-" he said inbetween his laughter. They both tried their best to stop laughing, and after a while, they did.

Puffy let out a sigh, and said "Tommy, I will get you back. I am warning you." with a glint of amusement in her eyes. Tommy seemed to have sobered up at the thought and looked scared. Puffy left with a wave and headed to her home to probably clean up.

"That was funny though." he said out of the blue. That started another round of laughter to go throught them.

"Say, (Y/N), how old are you?" Tommy asked after they have both calmed down. "I'm the god of mischief and trickery. I'm and immortal being. I am centuries old, kid." they answered.

"Really? That's quite pog! Did you know my father is also immortal? You might know him, name's Philza, Angel of Death. Does that ring a bell?" he rambled, ignoring the fact that they had just called him kid.

(Y/N) was ecstatic at the idea of being able to meet with their old friend again, but decided to say "HECK YEAH! I GET TO MESS WITH HIM AGAIN!" as to hide their feelings. They were the god of trickery after all. They had an image to uphold.

Tommy decided to go take them to Phil. Bad idea. As they reached the door of Phil's cottage, Tommy just burst into the house without knocking.

"Phil~ I'm baack~" Tommy called in a sing-song tone. Phil just said "Welcome back" in a monotone voice from the kitchen without looking.

As he was preparing supper, he heard Techno shout from the living room "TOMMY WHO ON EARTH IS THAT?!". Millions of thoughts start rushing through his head. Who could Tommy have brought with him? He ran out of the kitchen and went to see for himself who it was.

The scene in front of him just made him want to be buried 6 feet under the ground. There it was, His two oldest sons looking at the door from the bottom of the stairs and his youngest son, standing next to the person he hated the most. (Y/N).

They were walking through the forest. Phil felt something touch his shoulder. He turned around, raising his sword as he was startled. There they were, (Y/N), making the weirdest face possible.

"For f*ck's sake (Y/N)! stop it!". That only made them laugh more. "You should have seen your face!" they said inbetween laughter.

The man loathed them. He just wanted to leave them there, in the middle of nowhere, for this was not the only thing they have done in the past hour of adventuring. He, however decided to ignore them, for his heart could not bear the idea of leaving his companion alone.

"Long time no see, Philza." they said with a smirk. "Kill me already" he groaned. That was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

After Phil had supper with his family and the devil- sorry, unexpected guest, he went to clean up as his sons sat in the living room with (Y/N).

"So you're immortal?" said the oldest boy that they learnt was called Wilbur. They nodded as a reply, and he just said "Thats so cool!"

"I have read about you before, however, seeing you, I don't think the book described you correctly. Could you, possibly tell me more about your tricks and stuff?" Technoblade's monotone voice had a slight tone of curiosity and amusement while asking the question.

So they did. They told the boys about their stories. As they finished, they realised that Wilbur and Tommy had fallen asleep and Techno was half paying attention to them.

"You should go to sleep. Both of you. It's quite late already." A voice said behind her. "I'm a god, Phil. I don't need sleep." they retorted as they turned around, looking at the man.

"Suit yourself." he shrugged. He opened his mouth to tell his son to go to sleep, but he realised that his son, in fact was already asleep. He shook his head and got some blankets to lay above his sons. "I guess you can stay the night. It's late anyways" he spoke before (Y/N) could say anything and he left to go to his room. Huge mistake.

Philza minecraft was having a good sleep, when he heard a scream from the living room. He panicked, as his mind made up the worst scenarios possible. As he rushed downstairs, he saw Wilbur with bright pink hair, Tommy with a very bold red hair and hands, along with a half asleep Techno raising his sword.

Only then did he remember, that his least favourite person was at his house. Right as he thought about that, he heard giggling coming from the living room.

"(Y/N)!" he shouted along with Wilbur and Tommy. "Yes?" they batted their eyelashes innocently. Phil watched with amusement at the scene unfolding before him. Tommy and Wilbur shouting at (Y/N) and Techno lowering his sword and laying back down on the couch, sensing no danger.

"Boys, enough. (Y/N), will these dyes wash away?" he finally said in a stern tone that had a hint of amusedment in it. "Ofcourse father of minecraft. Run water through them and they will be gone" they said with such innocence that he would have believed it was not her had he not known it was their doing.

Wilbur and tommy quickly rushed to the bathroom to wash their hair out, and Phil swore the doors of the bathroom would fall off its hinges from the amount of force that was put into opening it.

"I must say, that was pretty funny, (N/N)." Phil said with amusement as he went to prepare some breakfast. (Y/N) smiled proudly from the compliment, as he was always telling her off after pranking.

Phil now remembers why he always asked them to accompany him on adventures. They were fun, and entertaining. Sometimes, they're even smart and helpful. The thought of his adventures with them brought a smile to his face.

A week in their visit, they heard a knock on the door. Phil, thinking it was just (Y/N), thought nothing of it. So he just calmly walks to the door and answers it. What he didn't expect however, was DreamXD at the door, floating in a menacing stance.

"You all give me your youngest son, or you all are dead. You have 24 hours. If you do not hive him by them, you are all dead." DreamXD said in a demonic sound.

As DreamXD turned around, Phil saw a cloud of something covering his sight, he felt... flour? he cleared the flour from his face and saw DreamXD covered in flour and (Y/N) on the roof looking rather sheepishly at DreamXD.

"Sorry, I thought you were Philza" they said sarcastically. "Not sorry, actually." they continued as they cracked an egg and poured it along with some sugar on to DreamXD's head.

DreamXD suddenly whips something out and slapped (Y/N) off the roof. As (Y/N) was used to falling from high places, they landed on the ground with nothing but a few scratches.

DreamXD stabs them with a sword, and blood splattered from their waist. (Y/N), being the god of mischief, had ofcourse had lots of experience on pranking, but wasnt strong. However, they are very witty, as they always find creative ways to prank people.

(Y/N) somehow found a way to make DreamXD retreat, but Phil could not see how. All he saw was smoke, DreamXD leaving and (Y/N) lying on the floor, with blood gushing out of their side making a puddle on the ground.

They let out a chuckle and turned to face Phil. "Your lives are safe, Phil. And what can I say? Mischief... managed." they trailed off as their eyes closed. Phil rushed to bandage them up and put them in a spare bedroom.

A week.

That was how long it was.

One singular week. Seven days. Yet it felt like seven years they had been unconscious. The house felt empty. No chaos. Everyone was worried about them.

Phil let out a sigh. He closed the door and sat down next to where (Y/N) was laying. He traced his index finger over the palm of their hand that he was holding, and whispered "I don't think you know this.. but you really are a great friend, (N/N). I love your personality.. Who am I kidding, I love you."

Phil then thought, they were unconcious. He let out a chuckle at the thought. "Look at me.. talking to someone unconscious." he said out loud, closing his eyes and resting his head on the palm of his hand that was propped up on the bed. Little did he know, they were fully awake, and pretending to be unconscious.

"Aww, thanks Phil. I love you too." he suddenly heard. He whipped his head around to their direction and saw that their head was turned to his direction. He hugged them, minding their injuries and whispered in their ear that he was thankful that they were fine over and over again.

Phil then felt their body shaking and heard gentle sobs coming out of them. He pulled away from the hug and cupped their face in his hands and wiped their tears away.

"What's wrong, (N/N)?" he calmly asked. They just cried more and gave him a hug. They told him that they have never felt accepted, and that the only person that has ever tolerated them was him. They told him that they were happy that he cared for them. They told him how much they cared for him and how great of a friend he was. They told him how much they loved him.

After their little heart to heart session, Phil went to go and prepare lunch for everyone in the house. He told the boys that (Y/N) was awake now. Everyone was glad and relieved that they were awake again. And (Y/N) was glad, that they now had a family that cared for them.

--------

end.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Prey for You | Part 4

Genre: Smut, angst, and some fluff this time

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary:  It has come to this. After your landlord kicks you out, you’re at Chan’s mercy. Turns out, he might not be as bad as you thought he was.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, switch!reader, switch!chan, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader, thigh riding, really unheathly dynamics

A/N: this part is like the opposite of a tootsie roll soft on the outside hard on the inside

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6

“This is just for a short while.” You say, swallowing the bile that has risen up in your throat as you look at the smug wolf sitting in front of you on his couch.

“Sure.” He shrugs nonchalant, but the cocky arch of his brow says otherwise and you have to squash down your pride with everything you’ve got not to jump on him. Like it or not, you’re at his mercy now that your landlord has officially evicted you. Without his gracious help, you’d now be on the streets. “I’ll find another place as soon as I can.”

“You can take all the time you need.” He opens his arms wide, going for a welcoming vibe but the stupid grin on his face counteracts it.

“No. I’ll be out of here soon.” You deadpan, not wanting to owe him more than you already do. God knows he’ll hold his over your head forever.  "And I don't feel comfortable living here for free so from now on until I leave, I'll be taking care of things around the house."

“Oh, how domestic.” He chirps sweetly.

"More like a live-in maid." You mutter under your breath but he easily hears it, the stupid grin finally dropping from his face as he sits forward and looks at you sincerely. "Don't say that. I meant what I said. You’re here as a friend."

"Yeah, sure." You snort. “You’re basically high from gloating.”

A smile tickles his lips again as he leans back. “I always enjoy the chance to one-up you, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying.”

“Wow, you really are a saint.” You jeer, grabbing your bag and heading towards the room that is to be yours.  

_________________

To your great surprise, living with Chan was actually kind of nice. Aside from the obvious perk of living in such a comfortable, beautiful house that had everything you could ever need. Chan himself was proving himself to be a quiet congenial roommate. Most importantly, he left you the hell alone for the most part, staying cooped up in his studio the majority of the day so that you barely even saw him. And despite your agreement that you’d take care of things around the house, he still did most of his things himself, picking up after himself and washing his clothes before you got the chance to. He fed himself too as indicated by the boxes of takeout from every possible fast food place filling out the trash. So you were barely wasting any time on taking care of the house, and spending most of your days following up on your studies like you so sorely needed. 

All in all, this whole arrangement was working out positively in your favor. Too positively, that you have to wonder what he was getting out of this. He can’t possibly really be doing this out of the goodness of his heart, especially since no one is even aware of this kind deed for him to gain any morality points off of it. He hasn’t even made a move on you for the whole three weeks you’d been here, seeming content to just coexist with you that you were starting to feel like you were taking advantage of him somehow. Even though this whole thing was his idea. 

Maybe that, your momentary self-doubt, is what prompted you to do what you did next. 

“Hmm, something smells nice.” Chan remarks, walking into the kitchen where you were making yourself some food. He stands behind you to take a look at what you were cooking, and you feel your heart skipping a beat at the now familiar scent of him filling your nostrils and his body being so close to you. And when he speaks, his voice deep and calm next to your ear, it makes your skin tingle. “Looks tasty too.” 

And like a teenager who had the great fortune of being noticed by the popular jock, you twist your head around to look at him, dewy-eyed as the words stumble out of your mouth before you can think them over. “Would you like to have dinner with me today?”

He pauses, looking at you curiously and you turn back to the food and continue nervously, “I mean, that junk food you eat everyday can’t be good for you.” 

“Aw, are you worried about me?” He asks cheekily, and your shoulders tense. “Never mind.” 

“No, no, I’ll have dinner with you.” He rushes to say, plopping down on a seat resolutely. “No take backsies.”

“Idiot.” You mutter, finding yourself wearing an involuntary smile because of him once again.

__________________________________ 

You’re not the best cook, you’ll be the first to admit it, but Chan praises your food like you are a world class chef. 

“Fuck off, Chan. It’s not that good.” You protest awkwardly, not really used to being complimented. But he insists, mouth full of food, “It is! It’s sublime.” 

You look down at your food to avoid eye contact with him and put on your best snooty voice. “Poor thing. Your habit of eating exclusively junk food must’ve ruined your palate to the point where you think my cooking is anything but decent.” 

“You sell yourself short. These hands--” He suddenly grabs your hands suddenly, startling you as he kisses them. “They’re magic.” 

You yank them back to your lap, flustered, the adrenaline pushing your poor fluttering heart into overdrive and making you panic. You quickly grab your fork and shove some food into your mouth trying to distract yourself from the conflicting emotions clashing in your chest, and regretting it almost immediately as your nausea swells up. 

“Is that how you woo prey?” You snark, taking a big gulp of your wine to wash down the piece of food you barely chewed. “Blatantly lie to them about their cooking skills?” 

The atmosphere fully changes as Chan drops his cheery attitude.  “Can we not talk about… that? It’s just you and me here. We don’t have to let the outside world in, do we?”

You still, your sense of danger rising up exponentially at his suggestion, and once again you find yourself wondering why he was doing this. What was his endgame here? Was he just messing with you? He puts on an honorable performance but you’ve seen him slip before. It must get tiring for him. Maybe he wants to see you hurt; it’s in his nature and he’s been repressing it for so long. You’d be the perfect victim too. No one even knows you’re here, and even if they did, they’d never believe your word over his. 

Or he could be genuine. Maybe he’s as nice as he tries to be. But that just scares you more, because how do you deal with that? You’ve never had a relationship with someone that was open and trusting. You’ve always hid behind your games. They kept you safe. No one has ever truly hurt you because you’ve never allowed someone to get close enough. But if you trust Chan, if you let him in and he betrays you… you don’t know how you’d even recover from that. 

You want to believe though. Everyone always says how much of a good person he is, how loyal, how selfless, how supportive. They can’t all be blind, right? And you’ve seen it too, in the way he always strived to protect his friends from you. He wanted the best for them. Maybe he could want the best for you too.

“Okay.” You answer in a small voice, heart pounding. 

His answering smile is bright and big, but it does nothing to assuage your fears so you settle for taking another sip of your wine. That’s what it’s made for, right?

“So, what do you actually do? I never asked.” Chan makes conversation as he gets back to his food.

You clear your throat. “I’m a waitress.” 

“Oh, and… um, is that what you want to be doing?” He asks unsurely. 

You roll your eyes at him, feeling a little at ease at his naivety. “No. Nobody wants to work in the service industry. It’s basically slavery and all your costumers are either rude or crazy. I hate it.” 

He pauses, looking like he’s thinking very hard for a moment, before he asks, perplexed. “So why do you do it?”

“To eat?” 

“Oh. Right. Of course.” His ears turn red and it’s his turn to take a big gulp of his drink. “I’m, uh, apparently an idiot. Yes, people work to afford living. Of course.” 

“I guess you’ve never had to think about that.” You note, surprised that you don’t feel any bitterness as you say it. 

“No.” He stares at the food on his plate. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah but--”

“But I don’t have money so you feel sorry having money in front of me?” You grin, tone light, and he smiles back, face flushed as he obviously chastises himself in his head. 

“So…” He starts again, and it’s a little endearing how nervous he is. “What do you really wanna do?” 

You regard him for a second, wondering if you should really cross that line and let him in. Well, here goes nothing. 

“I’m studying to be a doctor.” 

His jaw drops to the floor. “You?”

“Yeah, shocking right?” You quip, taking another sip from your glass.

“I mean, yeah.” You would take offense at his words if it weren’t for the--you begrudgingly admit--endearing confused frown on his face. “Isn’t that a traditionally prey profession? Don’t you get, like, weird looks or something?”

“Yeah.” You snort, feeling the bitterness rise to the surface. “I get more than just weird looks. People feel the need to tell me every moment of every day how I’ll never be a good doctor. How no one will trust a fox with their life. How I should just quit and get into business or law or whatever other profession that can use my no-doubt nefarious skills.”

“That sucks.” He says then immediately cringes at his lame comment.

“Yeah, no shit. And guess who says it the most? Prey hybrids.” 

A light bulb suddenly clicks above his head. “Is that why you dislike them? They’re really not all like that--”

You interrupt him sharply, already knowing where he was going with this. “They’re not like that to you because you’re powerful and rich and you could do whatever you want, but they’re ruthless to me. They’ve always been. So yeah excuse me if I don’t care too much for your prey apologism. It’s pretty infuriating actually.”

“I really think you should--”

“What about you?” You ask pointedly, clearly wanting to change the subject. “I mean, I know that you’re a producer. I suppose this is what you’ve always wanted to be doing.” 

“Ah, yes.” He coughs, straightening in his seat as he reels back from the change of topic. “I’ve loved it since I was an angsty teen listening to hip hop and pretending like I’m so cool and gangsta.” 

The thought of little rich boy Chan swearing it up and down and acting like a thug brings an involuntary and sincere laugh out of you. It doesn’t bother Chan though. If anything, he looks content to have made you laugh. 

“Did you…” He begins after your laughter dies down, fiddling with the stem of his glass as he looks at you from under his lashes, “Have you ever listened to any of my tracks?”

“No.” You scoff, the word coming out automatically. I mean, why would you? It’s not like you like the guy. 

His face falls at your flippant answer. “Ah. Of course.” He says flatly, bringing his glass to his mouth. 

You feel a pang of guilt in your chest. Logically, you know you have no reason to feel bad. You two were never on the best of terms and you have no obligation to listen to his songs. And yet, as you look at his crestfallen face, the guilt still eats at you. 

“How about you show me some after dinner?” You find yourself suggesting and his face immediately brightens up. “Yeah! I mean… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He interjects quickly, even though he clearly wants you to. 

“I want to.” You say firmly, and he smiles. ___________________________________

“I’m a nice guy who just has a lot of money?” You wheeze, cracking up and face flushed from the intoxication. You were somehow on Chan’s lap as the night progressed from him showing you his proudest works to his most regrettable ones.

“I know. I know. What was I thinking, right?” He laughs along with you despite his obvious embarrassment. 

You lean in close to his face, humming, "I think it's endearing." You kiss him. 

"You just like embarrassing me." He protests weakly, mouth opening against your lips. 

“Guilty.” You pull away to take his shirt off. Caressing his exposed muscles, you grin, “Hmm...yummy.” 

He bursts out laughing, “You like it?”

You shrug, “It’s not what I usually go for but I can get used to it.” 

He scoffs at that, and pulls your own shirt over your head. Tugging your bra over your breasts, he cups them in his hands and murmurs against your skin, “Well, I don’t need to get used to these.” before his mouth latches onto them. He sucks marks onto the sensitive flesh while his hands grope and knead your breasts. 

Looking up at you, he pushes your breasts together and laps his tongue over the nipples. Your arousal spikes as your gaze locks with his challenging one, and you start rocking yourself over his thigh. 

"Fuck that's hot." He mumbles, lightly tugging on your nipple with his teeth as he pulls away, making you moan out and your hips swivel down to push your core harder against his thigh. 

"Wait, wait," He pulls you to your feet, and you whine, protesting the loss. 

“Hush, baby girl.” He soothes, yanking your pants down your legs along with your underwear before he slips his hand between your legs to drag a finger up your slit, hissing when he feels your wetness. "That's what I want." He groans, pulling you back down on his thigh and using his grip on your hips to make you move over his thigh again. "Want you to ruin my pants with your cum, baby girl. Show me how much you need me."

"But I don't need you." You retort, though your hips don’t slow down. 

“Are you sure about that, my little fox?” He flexes his thigh under you, pushing it up more against your core. 

“Uh-huh.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. He takes the opportunity to get back to sucking on your breasts, which only makes your movements more frantic. 

“Come on, baby, tell me how good I am and I’ll help you.” He gasps between kisses. You tug on his hair, almost bouncing on his thigh now. “Why don’t you beg for it, pup?”

“Unbelievable.” He growls, pulling your head down. “You’re still so prideful even as you hump my leg like bitch.” 

Whatever stinging remark you would’ve hurled at him is muffled against his lips as he pulls you into a hungry kiss. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, taking him in and caressing it with your own before you put your hands to his chest and push him back. 

“You really want it? Want me to say how good you are for me? How wet you make me?"

He nods eagerly. 

“What a sweet pup.” You praise, “Striving so hard to please me. You’re doing so well, baby. You’ll make me cum real soon.” 

“Do it, please. I wanna see what you look like cumming up close.” 

“Keep tensing your leg like that and you’ll have me cumming in no time, puppy.” You bite your lip, small but needy moans flowing out of you. “What a good boy you are, so good.” 

“Please,” He whispers, his hands helping you move faster on his thigh. “Please, please.”

“So close---ah---oh god, so close...baby!” You gasp, grabbing onto him tightly as you finally cum, the orgasm surprisingly potent. He beams up at you, soaking up every little moan and shudder you let out. “So pretty.”

Gradually, your panting breaths turn into airy giggles as you get down from your high. You give his lips a peck before your hands fall between you and starts pulling his dick out from his sweatpants. You grin against his lips, feeling giddy. "I can’t believe I’m gonna let you fuck me in your studio. How cliche.”

His answering chuckles are punctuated with little moans as you glide your hand up and down his hard dick. “If it--ahh-- makes you feel any better, t-this is the--ahh, yeah like that, baby-- the first time I fuck anyone here.” 

You giggles increase in pitch, “You’re so full of shit, Chan.”

“I’m serious.” He whines, leaning up into your touch as you swipe your palm over the leaking head of his cock. “This is kind of a... sacred place for me."

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, “It can’t be that special if you’re here with me now.”

“It is.” He insists with a pout, and continues casually as if it was nothing, “Because you’re special.” 

Your hand stills on his cock, your face turning to stone as you try and make sense of what he just said.  He's messing with you. He has to be.

Fear and uncertainty makes your stomach churn and your skin loses all color, your face getting cold and sweaty as the bile rises up in your throat. You thought you could handle this but you can’t. You’re too much of a coward to risk it and your sense of self-preservation rears its deformed head once again. 

Standing up abruptly, you croak through your suddenly dry mouth,  "I think I’m gonna go. I need to lie down" 

Chan gets up too, not letting you go. "Oh, is everything okay? Are you sick?". 

"I’m fine. I’m just..." You explain weakly, wriggling yourself out of his grip as quickly as you can in your intoxicated state. "I gotta go."

“Hey, wait!” Chan calls after you, but doesn’t try to stop you. You hear him curse out just before you get out of earshot.

____________________

You wake up with a huge headache and an even bigger feeling of dread. The events of last night coming back like a bullet shot through your chest, and you’re even more confused now with the hangover shattering any hope of a coherent thought forming in your head. 

You stumble out of bed and head to the door, resolving to get some water and some painkiller so you’d maybe start to feel like your head wasn’t likely to explode at any moment. But as you slide the door open, you hear bickering voices just outside in the living room.

"Chan, what the hell are you doing man?" You hear a familiar voice ask but your brain is too scattered to pinpoint the owner of it right now. Luckily, you don’t need to as Chan speaks up in reply, "It's fine, Jisung. It’s all under control."

"No, it's not. Isn’t that what you used to tell me? That no matter how much she makes it seem like she cares, she could flip the table on me at any moment and that I shouldn’t trust her. That’s what you said!”

You quickly pick up that they’re talking about you despite how much you don’t want to believe it. But that’s the kind of language that has always been directed at you, there is no mistaking it. Yet, against all reason, you hope it’s not true. Or at least, you hope Chan would deny it. 

He doesn’t, of course. They never do.

“I know what I said!” 

“And? Do you trust her now?” Jisung asks incredulously. 

“Of course not.” Chan vehemently denies, the resoluteness in his voice piercing straight through your heart. 

Of course not. Of course he doesn’t trust you. What a ridiculous question.  

“Jisung is right, Chan.” A new voice adds and you focus on the sound of it, trying not to break down just yet. “You’re letting her sleep under your roof, man, and you didn’t even think to tell us. Has she been messing with your head?”

They are talking about you like you are some kind of monster, some wild beast that would pounce on you the second you turned your back to it. You’d find it amusing coming from anyone else, but not from Chan, because for once in your life you wanted to believe that someone could see you as something other than what the world thought you were. You blame yourself for this one. 

“My head is fine.” Chan retorts angrily, letting out a forced sigh. “I’m just.... She was in trouble and I had to help her.” 

“Oh, you had to?” The new guy interjects mockingly, “Tell me, would she have helped you if you were in her position?”

“That’s irrelevant.” Chan protests. 

“No, it’s not. She would’ve let you suffer and laughed about it. She’s bad news, man.” 

“I think you guys are being a little harsh.” Another voice speaks up, deeper than the rest. “Maybe she’s not as bad as you think. I’m sure Chan has a good reason for trusting her.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure his dick does.” Jisung scoffs, “You know, I can’t believe you’d do this after preaching to me for hours about how I need to stay away from her and how stupid I am for letting her get to me. But hey, I’m just a stupid squirrel hybrid, right?” 

You’ve heard enough. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you plaster a smile on your face and step into the living room, the four boys’ head snapping around to look at you. 

“Chan, you didn’t tell me we had guests.” You ponder theatrically, ignoring Chan’s dismayed exclamation of your name. "Oh hey, Sungie. I knew you'd be back for more." You wink at him and he immediately ducks behind the dark-haired stranger. 

“Please go back to your room.” Chan asks, equal measure pale and tense.

“But aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Your eyes flit over the three guys, stopping when you get to the blonde, freckled one. “Especially this one. What’s your name, pretty boy?”

The boy blushes at the unexpected flirtation but extends his hand out to you nonetheless. "I'm Felix." He greets you unexpectedly cheerily, and you’re even more surprised to find out that he’s the one with the deep voice.

But before you can take his hand, Chan steps between the two of you. 

"I need to talk to you." He grits, pulling you to your room and shutting the door behind you. “What are you doing?”

You shrug, feigning ignorance. “Saying hi to the guests?” 

“Now is not the time for your games.” Chan rakes his hand through his hair, stressed out, but you keep up your innocent facade and he sighs in defeat. “You know what? Just stay in your room until they leave and then we’ll talk.”

“No, we’ll talk now. Are you ashamed of me or something?" You wonder, cocking your head to the side. “I thought you said I was special to you? But apparently you say a lot of things.”

“Baby--”

“Why, Chan?” You finally let your facade drop, letting the full extent of your disappointment and sadness break through. “If you don’t want me here then why did you offer in the first place?”

“I do want you here. I just wasn’t planning on anyone finding out about this.”

You laugh in disdain, “How do you always know what to say, Chan?” 

“I’m sorry but you have to realize how bad this looks for me. I worked fucking hard to get to where I am today. There are so many people waiting for me to make the slightest mistake so they can watch me fall. And here you are… well, you don’t exactly have the best reputation. If people find out about us then--”

“Wow, you really are an angel, aren’t you?” You bite, venom lacing your every word.

He laughs cruelly. “Oh, yes, and the judgement comes out. You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You can judge everyone and treat them like shit, but as soon as someone does the same to you you’re suddenly the poor misunderstood victim that everyone bullies.”

You reel back at the harshness of his tone and words. He’s never spoken to you like that before, no matter how much he was upset at you. It was jarring. “Stop it.”  

“Why? It’s what you’re best at, darling.” He sneers, continuing to ruthlessly attack you. “You judged me before you even knew me and went about treating me like a feeble predator because that’s what you decided that I am. And now you want me to take responsibility for your actions and stand up for you when other people treat you the way you’ve been treating them? But here’s the thing, baby; maybe if you had actually been a decent person and treated others with respect, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Hell if you'd been a decent person, you wouldn't be having such a hard time anywhere, not with me, not with school, not--" 

"No, fuck you, chan. Don't you dare tell me this is all my fault. You know nothing about my life! I can't believe I actually--never mind.”

“No say it. You actually what? Liked me? Cared for me? Don’t make me laugh, fox. You don't give a shit about me. Every time I try to get close to you, you pull back like I make you sick. If it weren’t for me offering you a place to stay, you wouldn’t even be talking to me right now. You only care now because I have something to give you, but the second you’re done with me, you’ll throw me in the trash like you do everyone else. And I’m not going to sacrifice all that I’ve worked for to entertain you until you’re bored.”  

“You may be right. I may be as awful as you all say I am.” You smile, tears falling down your face. “But at least I'm honest with myself. You on the other hand? Under all your pretense, you're just as fucked up as I am. And one day, everyone will see you for how ugly you really are. ” 

_______________________________

A/N: sorry guys she (me) had to do it to you. leave your feedback uwu

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Two

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3243

Warnings: abusive behaviour, mentions of ‘bedroom activity’ 🙈

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part One | Masterlist

- - - - -

I knew weddings took a lot of planning, but I never realised they took this much. Every single tiny detail requires a decision and more often than not that decision falls on the bride’s shoulders. 

Purple or yellow flowers?

Napkins folded as swans or roses?

Which table can we sit Uncle David at where he won’t start a fight?

I try to get Dan involved in the decision making but his response is always the same.

“It’s up to you babe”

Speaking of Daniel, I still haven’t told him we have to meet with the Priest again today. I tried a few times to bring it up but his mood changes instantly. I’ve still got a slight bruise on my wrist from the aftermath of the first meeting, but I keep it covered. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me. 

I pull the sleeve of my jumper down over my wrist as I approach Daniel in the kitchen. 

“You look nice, where you going today?” He asks as he makes himself a cup of tea. 

“Actually…” I take a breath “we’ve got our second meeting with the Priest today”

“What do you mean? We’ve already met him once why do we need to go again?” He doesn’t look as me as he swirls the teabag around in his mug with a spoon.

“It’s just church policy, he has to meet with us a few times before the wedding”

“Well I’m not going” 

“Dan-“

“I SAID NO!” He erupts, swiping his mug off the counter so it smashes and tea spills everywhere. He storms out of the kitchen, leaving me stood in the mess he’s made. I stare at it bewildered for a moment as it sinks in what he’s done and I feel my blood start to boil.

“Daniel!” I shout as I follow after him. I find him in the hallway taking his coat off the hook as he heads for the front door “where are you going?”

“Pub”

“Dan, the priest is expecting us in half an hour! Both of us!”

“Then I guess he’s doing to be disappointed. Or not. You two got along just fine the other day, it was almost as if I wasn’t even there”

“We both tried to include you in the conversation multiple times but you just… weren’t present”

“Well then today won’t be any different will it” 

He walks out and slams the door behind him. 

I stand alone in the hallway for a few minutes taking deep breaths to calm myself before taking out my phone and sending an email. 

‘I’m really sorry father but I’m not feeling well so I need to reschedule today’s meeting. Sorry.’

— — — — 

45 minutes later. 

I clean when I’m stressed. And right now I’m the most stressed I’ve been in my life so I’ve decided to stress clean the whole house. Everything. Apart from the broken mug and spilled tea. Daniel can clean that shit up when he eventually gets back from his sulk. 

I’m in the middle of vacuuming the living room when something catches my attention in the corner of my eye. My heart stops for a moment when I turn and see the Priest waving at me through the window.

I turn off the vacuum and open the front door, placing my hand over my chest. 

“You startled me!” 

“I guess now were even” he laughs awkwardly “I bought you these”

He pulls out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

“Why?” I ask, not meaning to sound as ungrateful as I do, as he hands them to me.

“You said you were ill, I hoped these would cheer you up” 

I don't quite know how to react so I end up just staring at him blankly. The truth is I’m speechless. He watches my face and the smile fades from his own. 

“You don’t like them. Shit! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even come, I’ve overstepped my boundaries.” He rambles

“No! No! I love them I’m just-” I pause as I look down at the flowers in my hand “I think this is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me. No one ever buys me flowers” 

“Well they should.”

For some reason I suddenly feel like a shy little school girl. I smile at him and he smiles back. 

“Anyway I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Get well soon” he turns and begins walking down the driveway. I think for a moment.

“Father!” I call after him and he spins around to face me “would you like to come in?” 

He nods and walks back to me, going past me into the house. I shut the door and gesture for him to go through into the kitchen, forgetting about Daniel’s mess. 

“Oops” he says when he sees it “what happened there?” 

“Daniel had an accident. He can be really clumsy sometimes” I laugh it off as I busy myself making us some tea.

“Can’t we all” he says, taking a seat at the dining table “will he be joining us?”

“No” I respond, a bit too quickly “he uh, he had to go out. I don't know when he’ll be back” 

I carefully carry our cups of tea over to the dining table and take a seat opposite him.

“Never mind. Thank you” he smiles and takes a sip of tea “I actually wanted to talk to you about something without Daniel, if that’s okay?” 

“Sure” I shrug, stirring some sugar into my tea. 

“I hope you don't take this wrong way but-” he pauses, I can tell he’s nervous to say what he’s going to say next “Are you safe?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just… I saw what happened in the car park the other day”

“I don't know what you're talking about” I say casually as I remove the spoon from my tea and place it down on the table. The priest reaches over and goes to touch my wrist but I pull it away quickly, instinctively pulling my sleeve down over my hand as his eyes search my own. 

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” He asks quietly and I shake my head “I saw the way you held your wrist as you walked away from him Y/N and I could see the bruises just now.”

I can’t bare the way he’s looking at me anymore so I cast my eyes down to the table, but he continues to stare at me. 

“Y/N? Talk to me, that’s what I’m here for. If he’s abusive to you-”

“He’s not” I finally speak as I look up at him again “he’s not like that, he’s kind and caring and… he would never intentionally hurt me. I just caught him on a bad day”

“And what about today? With the tea?” He gestures to the shattered mug on the floor “That wasn’t an accident was it? Is that why you cancelled today?”

“No! It’s just the stress of planning a wedding is getting to us both. But we’re fine! Honestly” 

I take a breath as I smile at him, but I can see he’s not totally convinced. He looks at me for a moment before speaking. 

“Give me your phone” he holds his hand out across the table 

“What? Why?” 

“I’m giving you my number, no one emails anymore” he jokes “So you can contact me whenever you need a chat, okay? Any time. Well apart from Sunday mornings, cause you know, church.”

“Of course” I smile

“And preferably not late. I’ve been really enjoying going to bed at 9.30 recently” he winks and we both laugh “I’m kidding. Well not about going to bed at 9.30, I do actually do that. But you can call or text me anytime and I will always get back to you. I promise” 

He gives me a really sincere smile and I feel a weird flutter in my stomach as I smile back. 

— — — — 

Almost two hours later the priest is only just getting ready to leave after we got carried away talking. We talked about all sorts. Our childhoods, our hobbies, our fears. He told me about his fear of foxes, and how they’ve apparently stalked him throughout his life. He even told me about his first ever wedding and the drama that surrounded the family. We’ve been talking for so long we didn’t realise its starting to get dark. He opens the front door and steps out just as Daniel comes walking toward the house, I see the anger in his face as he spots the priest. 

“What the fuck is he doing here!” He yells as he stomps towards us

“Daniel!” I warn but he ignores me, squaring up to the priest. I try to get between them and smell the stench of booze on him “are you drunk?!”

“So what if I am? Huh? You got a problem with that?” his breath on my face makes me want to gag “cause you know, I got a problem with this asshole being in my house”

“We just had some wedding stuff to discuss but it’s all sorted now so I’m going” the priest tries to diffuse the situation “I’ll see you both soon” 

“Like fuck you will” Daniel spits before going into the house. 

I mouth “I’m sorry” to the priest and he just shakes his head and smiles at me before leaving. 

Back in the house I ignore Daniel’s drunken ranting, going straight to the kitchen to clear away the left over cups of tea. Aggravated that I’m not paying him attention, Daniel follows me into the kitchen. He picks the flowers up from the counter.

“Did he give you these?” He asks but I ignore him, angering him more. He rips the flowers to shreds, dumping them on the floor. 

I step over them and I place our mugs next to sink, grab a cloth and some cleaner before going back to wipe down the table. Suddenly a mug flies past me, just missing my face as it smashes against the wall. I slowly turn to look at Daniel and stare him out before I dropping the cloth on the table and walking out. I grab my handbag and throw my jacket around my shoulders as I walk out of the house, slamming the door behind me. Daniel doesn’t dare to follow me, he knows he pushed me too far. 

I’ve been walking for about half an hour before I realise, I have no idea where I’m going. I’m just wondering aimlessly, letting my feet carry me wherever they want to go. Eventually I find myself standing outside the church. I place my hand on the wooden doors and pause, contemplating whether to go inside or carry on walking till I find a bar to drink at. To my surprise the doors gently swing open, but theres no one stood behind them. I take this as a sign that I should go in. 

As I enter the silent church and walk down the aisle I can’t help but imagine myself here in a few weeks wearing my white dress. I reach the front and turn back to stare out at the empty pews, picturing my friends and family smiling back at me as I stand with the man I’ll spend the rest of my life with. 

A thought that used to fill me with excitement, currently filling me with dread. 

I grunt with frustration as I flop down to the floor, sitting on the step with my head in my hands. Frustration turns to anger, which turns to sadness and soon I can’t stop the tears rolling down my face. I sit there silently crying until…

“You can’t be in here!” 

I look up and wipe my eyes as a very grumpy looking middle aged lady stomps towards me.

“Sorry”

“No ones allowed in at night”

“The door was open, I just presumed-”

“Well it shouldn’t have been and you need to leave” she ushers me back to the doors.

“Okay, I’m going. Sorry!”

“Y/N?” A familiar voice calls and I look back to see the priest emerging from his office “what are you doing here?”

“She’s just leaving Father, I’m sorry for the disturbance” the woman answers

“It’s alright Pam, she can stay” 

The woman I now know is Pam looks from the priest to me, then back to the priest again before backing off slightly. 

“Okay…” she says slowly, like she suspects something “I’ll just be upstairs if you need me. Goodnight Father” 

“Good night Pam” he replies.

She gives me one last look before disappearing out a door. I look at the priest, who just rolls his eyes and laughs as he gestures for me to follow him. 

I walk into his office and take a seat.

“So, that was Pam” he says, closing the office door and taking a seat opposite me.

“I gathered” I nod my head “She’s a bit…”

“Insane” 

“I was gonna say intense, but yeah” I laugh, feeling self conscious as I notice he’s studying my face. My cheeks are probably still blotchy and eyes blood shot from crying. There’s a small silence before he finally speaks.

“Are you okay?”

I look at him, not sure how to answer. 

“Did he hurt you?” He changes the question

“No” I shake my head “but he did break another mug. I’m gonna have to get insurance out on the ones we’ve got left at this rate” I joke but he continues to study my face, before finally jumping up out his chair.

“Do you want a drink? A proper drink. I’ve got some cans of G&T hidden away in here”

He opens a cupboard and grabs a Marks and Spencers plastic bag, pulling out two cans. 

“Are you sure you're a priest?” I laugh as he hands me a can “I mean you drink, you swear.. what other rules do you break?”

“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you”

“Murder too?” I say a bit too loud, flinching as I hear a banging above me

“Oh shit, Pam! She doesn’t like me being loud. Or having fun in general. Let’s go outside”

“What about the foxes?” I tease and he shakes his head at me as he opens the door and gestures me to walk out. 

— — — — 

We sit on a bench just outside the church overlooking the graveyard and talk for about half an hour before I realise something. 

“You know what’s strange?” I say, suddenly changing the subject “This is only really our third time meeting. I haven’t known you for very long at all but when we talk I feel like I’ve known you for years!”

“That is strange” he humours me, taking a sip of his drink

“Our conversations remind me of how Daniel and I used to be. Back when we could talk to each other properly. These days I’m lucky if we don't end up in an argument”

“And you wanna marry this guy?” 

“Of course I do” I reply, slightly taken aback by the forwardness of his question “We’ve known each other pretty much our whole lives. We’ve been together so long- I wouldn’t know what to do without him”

“That’s not a reason to stay with someone, especially if they don't make you happy anymore. Being in love with someone and being dependant on them are different things.” He pauses, studying me “Do you love Daniel?”

I stare at him, replaying the question in my mind over and over again. 

“Y/N?” 

I realise I don’t know the answer and a feeling of panic begins to bubble inside me. I jump up from the seat.

“I have to go” 

I quickly begin walking down the path to the front of the church, followed by the Priest who calls after me. I don't stop walking.

“It’s really late, Dan’s probably wondering I am so…” 

“Y/N, wait please!” 

I stop and turn back to look at him.

“I’m sorry if that was too much, but these are things you need to think seriously about.”

“I know! I will.” I nod and flash him a quick smile “thanks for the drink” 

I hold my can up in a ‘cheers’ before turning and continuing my walk back home. 

— — — — 

As I walk up the driveway of my house I can see Daniel through the window fast asleep on the sofa in front of the tv. I finish the last bit of my drink and hide the can in my handbag as I unlock the front door and sneak into the house. I hang my coat and bag up and slip my shoes off before quietly climbing the stairs and getting into bed. 

Laying in bed my mind can’t help but wonder to the Priest. I feel bad for the way the conversation ended. I shouldn’t have freaked out and walked off like that. He just looking out for me.

I grab my phone and send a text. 

‘Thanks for not letting Pam kick me out tonight, I really appreciate it. Good night’

I put my phone back on the beside table, not expecting a reply anytime soon because its so late. To my surprise it vibrates almost immediately. I pick it up and read:

‘No problem, here for you anytime! Sleep well x’

A small smile spreads on my face as my eyes fixate on the small ‘x’ at the end of his text. It probably means nothing but I cant help but feel a flutter in my stomach. 

The feeling a quickly taken over by dread as I hear footsteps up the stairs. I put my phone back on the table and roll over in bed, making out like I’m asleep. The mattress sinks as Daniel climbs into bed next to me and I feel his breath on the side of my face. At least he doesn’t smell of beer anymore. 

“I’m sorry” he whispers as his arm snakes over my waist and he plants a kiss on my cheek “I’m really really sorry”

I turn my head slightly to look up at him, but I don't say anything. 

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You know what I’m like when I drink”

“That’s no excuse Daniel” 

“I know, I know! I’m sorry. I’m going to change, try harder for you. Okay?”

I nod my head, knowing full well its bullshit. He’s said this before, said he’ll be different but the next day he’s always back to his same old self. 

“No more shouting. No more lashing out. No more hurting you. I promise.” He plants kisses on my skin with each sentence. “I’m going to be the perfect husband for you and im going to make it up to you. Starting now.”

He kisses down my jaw, to my neck and down my shoulder as he gently pulls me so I’m lying on my back. Then he kisses down my chest and slips under the duvet, kissing all the way down my body till he reaches that place only he has ever been. 

I close my eyes, enjoying the pleasure that’s rippling through me as my breathing gets more ragged before I realise…

In my imagination its not my soon to be husband with his head between my legs…

It’s the dark haired, brown eyed man who’s supposed to be marrying us.

Oh my God, I fancy a priest. 

part three

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines)