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finelinevogue · 2 months ago

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always been you

summary - you’ve always been jealous of hiccups connection with astrid, but little did you know…

pairing - hiccup (httyd2) x bff!reader

word count - +2k

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You didn’t want to come across as overbearing or needy but you did miss your best friend significantly.

Hiccup had been on a scouting mission with Astrid all week, leaving you to keep things tidy at the workshop with Grubber.

Every day felt a little longer.

It wasn’t that you didn’t think they could handle what’s out there, but more the fact you can’t handle it always being Hiccup & Astrid. Always together.

Always going on missions together. Always flying with each other. Their dragons were best friends so why wouldn’t they be? You should be happy that the Chief and the best warrior in Berk are close.

You only wished they weren’t as close as they are.

For purely selfish reasons of the heart, of course.

Sure, you and Hiccup had been best friends since you were babes. But there was always something locked tight in your chest that was reserved for whenever you were around Hiccup - like some sort of fluttering or an extra heartbeat.

You keep telling yourself that it could be a deepening crush, but you refuse to allow yourself fully into that thought because you’re terrified the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.

As you walk home after a long day at the workshop, you notice Hiccup and Astrid flying back in from their scouting trip.

The sun was paining delicate pinks and oranges onto the sky and you watched as Hiccup flew through the clouds, like a finger moving through cotton. He always looked so effortless up there. So at peace.

Berkians swarmed Astrid and Hiccup as they landed, dragons in perfect shape. Riders also. Phew.

You moved to walk down to meet them but stopped short when you watched Astrid give Hiccup a tight hug, lips moving closely over his ear.

“Hiccup, you’re back!” A child shouted, excited that his Chief had come home.

“Tell us everything.”

“Yeah.”

You didn’t feel up to heading down there anymore with that tight feeling in your chest returning. You gulped back a hard feeling in the back of your throat and started up the path that led to the top of the hill.

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The view from the top was indescribable.

You could see for miles and yet there was barely anything to see, and yet it was perfect.

There was something peaceful about watching the ocean wash away and come back. It was rhythmic. Routine. And with the sun casting its pastel glows over the water it made it all the more special.

You sat on the very edge, legs tucked up to your chin and your head resting on your knees.

There wasn’t that much space between you and the edge. Hiccup had nearly grounded you from leaving the house once when you’d nearly fallen over the edge, but luckily he’d been there.

You felt free up here.

Almost like you could—

“You better not be even thinking what you’re thinking.”

Hiccup and Toothless landed behind you with a thump. Hiccup looked worried and Toothless looked ready.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“You’re thinking about how freeing it would be to fall.” You felt Hiccup sit down next to you.

You realised that was what you’d been thinking… but not in a catastrophic way. More in a way where you wished you could grow wings, like your dragons, and fly off into the sunset.

“Well, not…” You felt like you had to clarify, but got cut off.

“No I know.” Hiccup was watching the sunset when you looked at him, “I felt the same way. That’s why I built my own wings. Ever since I first got to fly Toothless i’ve always wanted to be able to fly with him, too. You know?”

“Mhm.” You nodded.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Am I? Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Hey. What have we said about apologising for no reason?” Hiccup shuffled closer to you.

You breathed like you were about to say something.

“Don’t say it!” Hiccup warned you, earning a laugh from you.

“I want to, though.”

“Well don’t. Otherwise I’ll have Toothless play drop and catch with you.” Hiccup poked your side and you laughed even more.

You almost rolled forwards and off the cliff, but Hiccup’s arm reached around the far side of your waist and pulled you back. You were still laughing when your back hit the ground.

You kept laughing until you slowly realised that Hiccup was laying down - quite closely - next to you. His eyes were watching your smile and his arm was still firmly secured around your waist.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” You chuckled.

You turned to look up at the sky for a brief moment, before returning your gaze to Hiccup who was still looking at you.

“What?” You asked softly.”

“Nothing. I just—.”

Hiccup was rudely interrupted by Toothless coming to lick a stripe of saliva over his face and down his chest, sticking to his armour. You laughed at the sight, sitting up as you watched Hiccup groan.

“Toothless… You know that doesn’t wash out.” Hiccup flicks away some saliva and Toothless sits on his hind legs, looking proud of himself.

Toothless starts dancing round in a circle, laughing in his own way along with you.

You stand up and make your way over to the Night Fury, as Hiccup continues to wash off the dragon bleh…

Toothless makes his way over to you and bows his head for you to touch. Hiccup’s dragon has always been so gentle and calm around you. People often say it’s his soul imitating yours. Toothless closes his eyes as his forehead bumps against yours.

How anyone could be anything but in awe of these magical creatures is a mystery.

Hiccup comes to stand next to you, standing only a bit taller than you.

“He likes you more than he likes me.” Hiccup says, scratching behind Toothless’ ear.

“Oh please. He would dive off a cliff to save you, but he’d be the one to push me off thinking that it was play-time.”

“I think he’d surprise you.” Hiccup wandered around Toothless and climbed onto the saddle. “C’mon.”

“C’mon, what?” You asked, puzzled.

“We’re going for a ride.” He held out his arm for you.

“Right now?”

“I think that’s what I’m asking…”

“Hiccup… You just got back from…”

“And I want to spend some time with you. So… please.” He gestured again and Toothless made a sound like he wanted you to join them too.

“I’m not playing drop and fetch, though. I mean it.”

“I promise.”

You took ahold of Hiccup’s hand, ignoring the tight, fluttering, sensation in your chest and allowed him to pull you up in front of him. You’d tried sitting behind him once and had nearly fallen off when Toothless did a nose dive, so ever since you’d been riding up front.

Hiccup’s arms tightened around you and grabbed ahold of where he needed to guide Toothless.

“Ready?” He asked, his voice sending goosebumps over your skin from how close he was.

You nodded.

And you took off.

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The first part of the flight was always the scariest.

Toothless shot up into the sky, making you lean back into Hiccup more and Hiccup hold onto you a little tighter.

Once you levelled out, you soared through the clouds.

It was so serene up here, you envied how free the dragons just feel every time they fly. With the sun in the distance, feeling like you’re shooting towards it, it feels like something out of a dream.

You closed your eyes, let out a deep breath and allowed your other sense to take over. The sound of air whipping around you as you flew at speed. The taste of the cold air as you passed through clouds. The smell of dragon - it was weirdly comforting. And the touch of Hiccup. The last one brought you the most comfort of all.

“I could stay up here forever.” You said.

“I wish we could.”

“Toothless probably wouldn’t be a fan of flying forever.” You leant over to scratch Toothless behind the ear and he softly grumbled in reply.

“He probably would be if it was for you. Me on the other hand? Pfft, forget about it.”

“Oh please. Your bud would do anything for you. I mean he literally saved you from one of the biggest fire explosions I’ve ever seen.”

“And you’ve seen lots of them have you?” He joked, making you nudge your elbow back into his ribs. “Okay, okay!”

A few minutes of silence passed by, just you two and Toothless effortlessly gliding amongst the clouds.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Hiccup said.

“Okay.”

“I… I just…It’s…”

“Hiccup, if it’s about something that happened on your scouting mission with Astrid then I already know.” You tilted your head around a little to see him. His face was full of confusion and you gave him the slightest smile even though you could feel your heart dropping through your chest.

“You do?”

“Yeah I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Okay.. Well, yeah.. I mean…”

“You don’t have to talk to me about it Hiccup. It’s none of my business.”

You turned back around, not wanting to hear much more about how Hiccup had fallen for Astrid. How they were now together. How you were completely out of the picture now.

“Wait… What?” Hiccup exclaimed, making you jump a little from how loud he shouted in your ear.

Toothless looked back for a moment with a devilsome grin on his normally innocent face.

“Bud…?” Hiccup asked warily.

Toothless must’ve thought that Hiccup said something different, because it was at that moment that Hiccup realised you two were no longer going to enjoy the sunset or clouds.

Toothless took the opportunity to tilt downwards, before plummeting through the sky towards the ocean.

You screamed as Hiccup tried his best to get Toothless to listen to him - unsuccessfully.

Hiccup’s arms tightened infinitely around you as he tried to control Toothless the best he could, but there was no stopping this big lump of scales.

Toothless dive right to the seawater before gliding straight across it for a brief moment, then shooting right back up in the sky again.

“Bud, seriously… What are you playing at?”

As you got up to some height, Toothless spread his wings as far as he could then.

“Oh no.” Hiccup sighed.

Then you were all falling down backwards. Toothless had his tongue sticking out as if he was enjoying every moment of this, whereas you were hanging on for dear life.

“Toothless!” Hiccup shouted, kicking his leg in a certain way to control Toothless’ tail better.

Everything calmed down a little after that, Toothless going back to gliding as you made your way home to Berk now the sun had set.

“You and I are having words when we get back, bud.” Hiccup tried to sound stern but it was well known that the dragon would be the one to get his way.

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As you stepped off Toothless your legs took some time to regain familiarity with solid ground.

Then as the adrenaline was wearing off, you started laughing - letting out all of the wired energy. You stood up tall after letting your legs have a moment, only to turn around to see Hiccup standing close in front of you.

You’d missed the moment where Toothless nudges Hiccup closer towards you, but it you’d had seen it then it would’ve made this next part less unexpected.

A dragon always knows.

“What?” You let out a small, nervous, laugh. “Hiccup, what?”

Hiccup hummed to himself, with a small smile on his face.

“Astrid was right.” He said.

Your face went neutral, trying to hide the fact you were affected by Hiccup bringing up Astrid.

“Right about what?”

“About how big of a dumbass I am.” He stepped closer.

“I don’t…” Your brows furrowed.

Hiccup moved forwards again, reaching out to ghost his palm over your cheek. You looked towards his palm slightly, nervous about what he was doing.

Your breath hitched when his skin made contact with yours.

He was so close in front of you, you’d frozen to the spot with anticipation over whatever he was doing.

“Hiccup.” You whispered.

Toothless shrunk into the shadows of the background as night fell, leaving you too alone to stand on what felt like the top of the world - together.

“Everyone told me I should’ve said something sooner.” Hiccup said, more to himself than to you.

“Hiccup, you’re not making any sense.”

“No. What doesn’t make any sense is my feelings for you!” He reached to hold the other side of your cheek now, framing your face so he could keep your focus on him, “What doesn’t make sense is that I feel lost when you’re not near. I feel weak when I haven’t seen you in days. I feel a…a.. sort of tight feeling in my chest every time you’re around. What doesn’t make sense is how I fell for someone like you, when I’m someone… like me…”

Hiccup dropped his hands, eyes widening as if he’d been in a trance when he had been talking.

You watched him stand there, watching you with nervousness now.

“What doesn’t make sense to me is how someone as great and as clever as the great Chief of Birk, couldn’t possibly understand how someone like me really likes him.”

You nervously gulp as you watch realisation take over his face.

“Wait… really?”

“Pretty sure.” You smiled.

“Well I guess we’re both dumbasses.”

Hiccup extended his arm to wrap on the side of your waist, pulling you towards him and not stopping until your lips were close enough to kiss his.

He kissed you like he’d been waiting an eternity for this moment, holding onto your waist tightly as if you’d even had thought about move away from him.

Your fingers curled around the delicate plaits in his hair that you’d tied, keeping your body taught against his.

As you both pulled away, you stayed close to one another - breathing the same air as if separate space simply wasn’t an option anymore.

You didn’t say anything - you didn’t have to - but you did have to chuckle at the situation.

Not even an hour ago you’d been heartbroken at the thought that his heart belonged to someone else. Now you realised that his heart had never been set on anyone but you. It had been you all along. And you knew, because your heart felt exactly the same way.

#hiccup haddock #httyd hiccup #hiccup and toothless #hiccup how to train your dragon #hiccup x reader #hiccup fanfic #httyd fanfic #httyd x reader

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youryanderedaddy · 11 months ago

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Dark Is The Night

Summary: A late night encounter with a patroling soldier changes the trajectory of his life - and, unfortunately, yours too.

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, threats, thoughts of non - con, mention of war, patronizing behavior, slight misogyny, hinted kidnapping

All he could think about was you.

It was a damp linden night, one of the very few old fashioned ones - as if time itself had stopped. The old colonel was laughing in short sharp breathes, skin spotting in red along with his sweaty neck, tearing into a letter he had received this very morning. The young soldiers were all over the tavern - some crying, some cheering over a beer and calling each glass their last, losing themselves in the rich foam that covered their fresh military mustaches. Christoph was alone, though.

He had no wife to write back to - no home to call his own, no friends or family to celebrate his final battle with. He also wasn't a rookie - so he couldn't drink himself blind in the pursuit of ideals, of empty promises of greatness to come. Truth was, his troops had won their fair share of battles, and today they had signed a treaty that would certainly benefit the district - the one he had lost his youth fighting for. He knew the capital would attempt at invasion, those greedy fucks wanted to bite more than they could chew - but that was no longer his problem. Today his contract ended. Today he was a free man.

And yet.

And yet all he could think about was you.

It was funny - he had spent more nights than he could remember wishing he could burn this half - dead village to the ground, all together with the maidens and the elderly still stick fending for themselves after the war. He presumed he'd be doing everyone a favor - he'd rid himself of the memories that haunted his dreams, and they wouldn't have to suffer any longer, not when all that winter would bring once again was even more hunger and decay.

After all, the victory changed nothing. The starving populace wouldn't starve anymore - it would simply die, having lost fathers, sons, daughters, farmers, merchants, healers. Nothing less than the very foundation of society. So maybe it would be far less cruel, far more humane, to burn everything and let them die with dignity.

But then you too would burn with the miserable souls of the damned. The man pictured it all - your beautiful skin still damp from the rain blistering in red and orange, and eventually black, those gems of yours trembling beneath your long eyelashes as the smoke swallowed your last breath.

The thought made Christoph irrationally angry - jealous even. Not only because he just imagined you dying, but because it was someone, something else stealing your final moment from him. Something else bruising your skin and forcing your lips to swell, something else causing you pain and suffering. No, he couldn't let you die. Not like this.

He couldn't help but recall your first meeting two years ago. Unbeknownst to you he had memorized it, citing each line by heart - envisioning it in his memory over and over each time he needed an escape, an outlet. The soldier wasn't one for softness, never one to dream and hope - but deep down he knew that this simple encounter had swayed the bullets. It had made him grip his rifle just a bit closer, made the biting wind just a bit warmer. He was a killing machine undeserving of humanity - yet you had saved him without even realizing it.

It was a cold winter night - quite opposite to this one, in the middle of Hell. The county your village was part of had been surrounded for a few weeks. Food was running low, and even clean water was scarce. All the men had been displaced a long time ago, sent off to fight in the eastern territories. Christoph was stuck at the Iron hills, a region so poor they didn't even bother to send additional armies to. If it lost, it lost. It held no special resources, no cultural or economic significance, no sea or forest roads to profit off of. All in all, no one wanted to serve here. No one but him.

Not that Christoph was too fond of the hills - it was more so that he didn't care where he was going to die. Whether it was on the eastern front, the western or even on the other side of the ocean, it didn't matter. And he had made peace with that fact - but before death took a toll on him, he was going to earn enough buck to buy good cigarettes for once in his miserable life. With real tobacco, none of that cheap imported trash they sold in his hometown.

And that's exactly how fate let him meet you. He was patrolling the border bridge late into the night - a thick cigar in hand (a parting gift from the general Murphy), humming to an old melody he couldn't quite remember the name of. He was alone that night - his friend had been injured so he needed to rest. The man was trying to stay alert, although the fatigue had long settled in between his tired bones and it refused to let go. The lack of sleep and the sheer paranoia was making him jumpy, ready to point his gun at the slightest of sound. He almost shot you that night.

"Colonel." You had whispered through gritted teeth, slowly raising your hands up as you approached him with a hesitant step. He blinked twice, unsure if he was still awake. Surely there was no way a young woman was out alone so late during wartime. "Colonel!" You repeated, putting a bit more force into your otherwise soft, calm voice. This seemed to snap him out of his trance and he finally raised his head to look at you, his sharp, intense gaze measuring you up from top to bottom. Just like a predator seizing his pray, like a soldier trained to keep his eyes on the target, he knew no other way to introduce himself other than with a silent, unspoken threat.

"A bit young to be calling me that, no?" The man snapped back, voice coming out more raspy than he intended - but it was hardly his fault. He rarely had visitors nowadays - no one wanted to expose themselves to the front lines, to risk becoming smoked meat, which meant he had little opportunity for chatter. So his voice had become rough - almost unnecessary cruel.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, blurry eyes focused on the weapon resting oh - so snuggly against the soldier's heart as if guarding it. "I'm not familiar with your many titles, sir." You explained with a certain bite. Christoph squinted, growing amused at your little jab, yet the black mask covering his mouth hid it from you. The man knew exactly what you meant. You were not used to so much surveillance on your step - on everyone's step, so many eyes set on you as if you had a massive red target on your back. You were not used to armed forces ghosting around your small homely village with a gun resting at an arm's length just waiting to be loaded.

He wondered if it was your first time running into a soldier since the beginning of the occupation. He wondered if you were scared - if your heart was beating against your chest like it was trying to break through the skin. After all he was indeed intimidating - with heavy combat boots and a black uniform that did little to hide his rough figure, the lineage of lean muscle and battered blistered skin that undoubtedly belonged to a man. A man whose hands were still covered in dirt and blood. He could kill you. He could push you around - get some entertainment out of you. He could shove you down and use you like a cheap village whore - and no one would care because that's just how war is. He was serving his country, he needed an outlet, and you just happened to be there. No one would blame him.

He couldn't bring himself to come closer to you. He didn't trust himself to hold back when faced with something so fragile after months of letting his fists and his teeth do the speaking.

"That's lieutenant to you, miss." He barked in a tone that felt familiar - a tone that used to wake him up every morning at 5 for weeks on end. A tone that he could still hear every time he loaded his rifle and let go of the trigger with shaking fingers.

He couldn't be nice to you. He couldn't be nice to anyone in this bloodshed. And yet he heard himself asking you for your name. It hadn't meant anything - it was a long night and he was bored. Lonely, maybe, he couldn't tell his feelings apart very well. You hesitated for a second too long before you finally gave him a clear answer. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard - not just now, but ever.

"Would you mind explaining why you're here so late, miss?" The man tilted his head, trying to understand your unreadable expression - somehow you looked lost in time, striken by fear and grievance. "I believe the general gave direct orders this morning. No one should be out after ten." He paused to take a long, dramatic puff off his cigar. "It's too dangerous. Especially for a pretty little thing like you to be roaming at night." He knew his boldness was making you uneasy, and that he shouldn't derive such obvious pleasure from your discomfort, but he just couldn't help it. He was lonely. He was sick. And most of all, he was a bastard who had already given up on life. He had nothing to lose.

"Truth be told, if you were mine I wouldn't let you out of sight, miss." He grinned, feeling just a bit disgusted with himself. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to scare you. To creep you out so bad you'd never go out alone again. Why he had got so invested so quickly, he also couldn't tell.

"I... I needed a breath of f-fresh air, l-leutenant." You responded quickly, eager to leave this conversation as soon as possible - completely ignoring anything he said. Your initial confidence had evaporated as the wet cold crept into your thin coat. It didn't fit your frame - it was too big on you and it reeked of a man's first proper cologne. The thought of it filled the soldier with unreasonable, hot -red fury, imagining you next to some nameless brat with his hands wrapped around you.

"That's all?" The corners of his lips stretched mockingly as he let his smoke blow into your face - and you had to fight the urge to immediately wave it off.

"Are you, are you implying something, sir?" You fiddled with your fingers nervously, looking anywhere but at Christoph. He found it pathetically adorable. "Just curious." He took another long puff - his breath coming out frozen - white as it hit the icy air. "You don't seem like the brave type to me." His eyes narrowed to two pitch black slits. He must have looked terrifying to you in that moment, and he loved it. "So just what-" He pulled you in by the collar. "Are you doing here, huh?"

You froze in place as if he had pointed his gun to you yet again. You swallowed loudly, trying to come up with an explanation - but nothing came to mind when you were so obviously scared. The soldier could feel your heartbeat - he could hear the blood pumping to your ears as you looked around hopelessly for help that wouldn't come. And just like that the wolf had the rabbit dancing in its own trap.

"Are you just looking for trouble, hmm?" The man reached in to curl his finger around one of your loose locks. He didn't want to make you feel so awfully small - but everything about this situation, from the tremble of your lips to the sheer panic in your eyes was going straight to his cock. "I'm sure that with a face like that you never lacked attention, no?" He tilted his head with predatory malice. "But now all the men bending over backwards for you are off somewhere, dying as we speak. Poor little you - I can imagine just how lonely you are." He pressed his body closer to yours. "The thing is, I am more than willing to play with you in their pl-"

"Please, lieutenant." You couldn't stand to listen to him any longer, a thousand warm pleas already falling off your desperate lips. "Please let me go." Your eyes softened, trying to hide the first sign of hot wet tears. "I need to go home to my siblings. I need to bring them fo-"

"Why should that matter to me, dollface?" It was his turn to interrupt you - voice full of childish glee as he kept up with his petty torment.

"Because - because," You started off, hands shaking into little fists that you knew, realistically, could do the soldiers no damage were you to push against his chest. "Because you're a good man." You mumbled after a while, looking for the right words to say. "And I know that deep down you're kind and brave. That's why you're here now, fighting for all our lives."

You were such a pretty liar, Christoph thought. He could listen to your sugary sweet fairytales all night long, silently praying that they'd become true if he was only able to capture his own little fairy - his own miracle.

"What if I am not the hero, doll?" The man whispered darkly in response, leaning against you until your back hit the tree behind you, trapping you between his stiff body and the pillar. "What if I am here for all the wrong reasons, huh? Just think about it." He lowered his head so it would match your eye level - you were so quiet he wondered if you had forgotten how to breath.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. I have a weapon and a direct permission to shoot at will. I can do whatever the fuck I want." He made sure you could hear every single word clearly. He wouldn't let you faint before he was through with you. "I can fuck you right here in the open - or I can drag you to the barracks and keep you there for as long as I need to. Do you really think anyone would care about some insignificant girl going missin-"

"Please." You repeated, suddenly getting stirn with your pleading, as if you too had nothing to lose. "Let me go - I'd do anything."

His eyes darkened - then lit up with sick, perverse desire. He wanted to echo your words back to you just like a classical villain would - to really drive the point across that he was out for blood. Anything, you say? Anything at all? But he couldn't contain his excitement enough to voice those sadistically banal thoughts. Besides, he could already feel the adrenaline running through his whole body. His heart was beating rhythmically, pumping and alive for the first time in days, weeks, months. He wanted you more than anything. It was that moment he knew he was going to live - he was going to fight and win, and then come back for you as a hero. As your hero, even if in your eyes he would be more of a villain.

A nightmare you'd try to forget - and just when you think you have erased his fingertips off your waist, your face, your neck, he'd come back to steal you away forever.

"Kiss me." Christoph all but snarled, some unfamiliar, needy - greedy ball of emotion settling into his loins as your delicate face twisted into a petrified grimace. You began trembling in his arms, looking around yet again. It was pitch black, no soul in sight. You inhaled deeply, trying to steady your movement to no avail. "A-alright. I-I..." You whispered with difficulty as if simply saying the words was causing you a great deal of pain. And maybe it was, but the soldier could care less. He already knew you were made for him - made to serve him, made to make him happy. "I'll d-do it."

The man growled in satisfaction, taking a small step back. You looked at him, puzzled - your confused face was just as cute as your scared one. He couldn't wait to explore all your reactions - the way you'd squirm and writhe underneath him as he fucked into you restlessly, filling you up with his love over and over again until you were crying for mercy. But that had to wait, he had a war to fight. For now he could settle for a little taste of you to keep him warm during the cold nights. And just like that he tapped his lips, guiding you silently. You felt your cheeks heat up once you finally understood what he meant by that. He wasn't going to kiss you. He wanted you to put in the work.

Your eyes filled up with tears, and you felt silly for becoming so upset over a little kiss - but this was your first kiss, and you had to give it to a monster. It was certainly better than the alternative, with the alternative being rape in a filthy military cottage, but it still made you feel dirty all over. Yet, you had no choice. You took a step towards the man - you could feel the suffocating warmth radiating off his body towards yours, and if the situation wasn't so grim, you might have been grateful for another human's heat in the freezing cold. But now all you could feel was dread.

You stood on your tip toes, a shaky hand reaching out to cup the stranger's face. Cristoph smirked, complecent at your obedience. You licked your lips and slowly, hesitantly pressed them against his, just barely touching at all.

He groaned, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. He grabbed you and pulled you in roughly, squeezing you like a plush toy. He deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth, finding heaven between your soft, sweet lips and broken whimpers. You were so innocent. So lost. He wanted to take you into his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep kissing you until your lips turned blue, until it hurt to speak.

And then you pushed him off just like that, using your own body as a distraction. He tripped backwards, too shocked and lost in sensation to stop you. He smiled at your final act of defiance. It was, of course, adorable and so painfully you, yet it didn't really matter - not in the long run. You had only suceeded in making him want you more.

But that was two years ago. Now the war was finally over. Now he had enough to start a new life. Now he was a free man.

And he was coming back for you.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere soldier

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 days ago

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A Curse [Chapter 1: Chinatown]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), a lil age gap, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, big doomed situationship energy, erotic apple eating, Minnesota.

Word count: 5.6k

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He takes your hand without looking at you. He had been lounging with his green Nike Killshots up on the desk when Brandon, the receptionist, brought you in. He had also been playing a translucent orange Nintendo 64; now the game is paused and Mario is frozen on the screen of the 24-inch television, deep underwater and in pursuit of a gold star affixed to the tail of a giant eel.

“Nice to meet you,” Aegon says without much interest. You’re smiling, not that he notices. Then he nods at the receptionist. “Thanks, Brando.”

“Oh, no problem at all!” Brandon trills buoyantly, pulling out your chair for you as Aegon flops back into his own. “Can I bring anything? Iced coffee, matcha latte, Perrier?”

“I’m good,” Aegon says, glancing at your resume where it rests on the desk amongst framed photographs, manilla folders, takeout menus, gum wrappers rolled into tiny balls. You have the impression he hasn’t read it. Nonetheless, you are still smiling.

“How about you, hon?” Brandon asks you.

You don’t want to make him run to a Starbucks or anything. “Um…I’ll take a Perrier, please. That’s easy for you, right? You can just grab it out of the minifridge in the lobby?”

“You betcha!” Brandon darts out of the office and returns in ten seconds. In the elapsed time, Aegon has not looked at you once. Instead, he slouches in his chair and thumps his Nikes onto the desk, sighs, and gazes longingly at the television screen. You sit up straight with your hands folded in your lap. You have dressed in business casual attire for the occasion: a modest yellow sundress and TOMS wedges, warm understated eyeshadow, sparkly champagne pink Dreamer by Anastasia Beverly Hills, matte brown Hope by Huda Beauty. Brandon returns and hands you a green glass bottle of Perrier, ice cold and slippery with condensation, and closes the door behind him as he leaves.

“Look, I’ll be honest,” Aegon tells you, picking up your resume and scanning it blandly. “I don’t want to waste your time, but I’m really not in the market for new clients. Brando made this appointment before I told him that, and then he really didn’t want to cancel it. He liked your resume or something. So I’ll hear you out but don’t expect much.”

“Oh. Well…I really appreciate you taking the time to see me anyway!”

He gives you a swift sideways look as if suspicious of your enthusiasm. It’s not that complicated; you haven’t had an audition in weeks, and none of the other six agents you’ve seen have signed you. Aegon Targaryen’s drab little office in one half of a duplex in Elysian Park is a relative paradise. His blonde hair is gelled back from his face. He wears dark jeans, a teal t-shirt, and a wrinkled tan sport coat jacket thrown carelessly overtop. You’ve Googled him; he’s thirty-five, so a decade older than you. “Where are you from?”

That’s on your resume he hasn’t read. “Minnesota.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up. “No wonder you left. City or country?”

“A town called Apple Valley, it’s about a half hour outside of Minneapolis.”

“So you’re not a nepo baby.”

“A what?”

“Your parents aren’t connected to the entertainment industry in any way.”

“Oh right, no, they definitely aren’t. My dad’s a cardiologist. My mom worked as a waitress while he was in med school, and now she just has a lot of Akitas.”

Aegon flips over your resume and skims the back. “Are they supportive of you being out here?”

“Um…” You chuckle uneasily. “Not really. My older sister’s a pharmacist and my brother’s in law school, so I am definitely the underachieving child. But they’re not too mean about it. They’re just waiting for me to get it out of my system.”

“Law school where?”

“Michigan.”

“State or University?”

“University.”

“So you’re really smart,” Aegon says. He has begun to fold your resume into a paper airplane. “Intelligence is genetic. If your siblings are book smart, you probably are too.”

You smile and shrug, not knowing what to say. “I guess so.”

“Do you have a boyfriend back in Minnesota who’s calling you every other day trying to convince you to come home and marry him and have two kids and a Goldendoodle?”

You laugh. “No, no boyfriend. I mean, I have an ex-boyfriend there. I see him sometimes when I fly home to visit. But he’s not standing in the way of anything.”

Aegon nods like you’ve passed a test. “Do your parents send you money?”

“Yeah, but not a lot. They don’t want to encourage me. I work at a Cold Stone Creamery in Harbor Gateway, it’s just a few blocks away from my apartment. I have a roommate, she’s trying to be an actress too.”

“Ice cream,” he muses. He launches your paper airplane resume; it sails across the room, hits the mint green wall, nosedives to the floor. “Do you like working there?”

“It’s fine. It’s a paycheck. Back in the spring I was doing after-school programs for Mad Science, driving all over Watts and Southeast teaching children about bugs and magnets and outer space, so that was really cool.”

Aegon looks up at you, brow furrowed. It’s the first time you’ve had his full attention. “You were doing after-school programs in Watts?”

“Yeah, it was awesome. The kids were so fun. But I needed something that was more flexible so I could be free during the middle of the day for auditions and stuff.”

He blinks at you a few times. “Why do you want to be an actress?”

You stall, twisting open your Perrier and taking a gulp. “That’s a hard question.”

“It’s literally the most obvious question. If you can’t answer it, I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“Well, I never wanted to be an actress,” you say. “I just kind of…am one. I can’t read a book without my expressions and my posture changing to match what’s going on in the story. I can’t watch a movie without feeling like I’m in that world with the characters, or, or, or imagining how I would have delivered the lines differently. And then even when I’m doing something totally unrelated…math homework, walking my mom’s Akitas, making ice cream…I envision where the cameras would be if I was being filmed, which way I would tilt my face to catch the light. It’s something I think about all the time and I can’t turn it off. So how am I supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer and spend my entire life trying to avoid every thought that occurs to me organically? It sounds like torture.”

Aegon stares at you, a long golden silence as daylight pours in through the windows facing the east. Then he drops his green Nikes to the floor and straightens up in his chair, studying you. He points to the windows. “Look that way.”

You do, closing your eyes when the glare is too bright.

“Now the other side of the room.”

You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean.

“Stand up.”

You set your bottle of Perrier on his cluttered desk and obey, but with some reluctance. “Please don’t ask me to bend over.”

Aegon snorts a laugh. “That’s not what I’m doing. I want you to go to the door and then walk back to me like you’re angry.”

“I have a bunch of acting reels on YouTube—”

“I don’t want to see your acting reels. I want to see you in front of me right now.”

“Okay,” you agree. You go to the closed door, take a moment to shake off the real world, and then walk to his desk, your footsteps heavy and your eyes hard. Aegon’s dark blue gaze follows you and does not waver.

“Look at me like you’re sad.”

You imagine he’s said something horrible to you, a husband who’s broken a vow, a doctor with a grim prognosis.

“Good!” Aegon says, animated now. “You get it. It’s in the eyebrows, not the mouth.” He gestures to your chair. “Now sit down like you don’t want to be here.”

You move sluggishly, like you hope someone will interrupt you; your eyes float boredly around the room. Then you plop heavily into the chair and stare at Aegon, a little vacuously inane, a little resentful like a petulant teenager. You pretend to chew gum you don’t have.

Aegon smiles, amused. “If I’d asked you to bend over, would you have done it?”

“I’d like to say no, but I’m pretty desperate.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

You sip your Perrier. “Well, I might get a boob job.”

“Don’t get a boob job.”

“Why not? Basically everybody here’s had one. I think Taylor Swift got two.”

“You don’t need a boob job,” Aegon says impatiently.

“I’m not sure you have all the knowledge to make an informed decision about that.”

“I am so sick of this bullshit,” he mutters, pushing the takeout menus and manilla folders around on his desk but leaving it no tidier. “People cutting up their perfectly normal bodies…people stuffing themselves full of poison…so afraid to look human they end up like motherfucking Bratz dolls.” He sighs and peers up at you again. “Just so you know, I’m getting out of L.A. I’m only going to be here until September. So by then you’ll have to find someone else. But I can get you started, I guess.”

You are beaming. “You’ll be my agent?”

“Yeah, but like I said—”

You squeal and leap to your feet, taking his left hand with both of yours and shaking it vigorously, Aegon gaping up at you. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I am going to be the best client you’ve ever had, I will never ever complain, I will do anything you say, I will audition with snakes and tarantulas, I will swim with sharks.”

Aegon grins, perhaps despite himself. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Why are you leaving in September?”

“I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his.

“That’s exciting!” You love weddings. “And you two look so happy together!”

“Yeah, Becca’s pretty great.” Aegon takes a stick of Juicy Fruit out of a pack on his desk, shoves it into his mouth, distractedly rolls the white and red wrapper into a ball. “She’s a real caretaker type. Always trying to do my laundry and pack me lunches and bake pies and whatever.”

“And that’s something you look for in a woman?” you tease lightheartedly. Aegon gives you a lightning-quick annoyed glance, and your smile abruptly dies. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t fire me.”

He chuckles and stands up from his desk, his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. Mario is still underwater, forgotten on the frozen television screen. “Let’s go grab some lunch.”

“Right now?” You slide your phone out of your purse—crossbody, wildflowers, Patricia Nash but found at T.J.Maxx—to check the time. “It’s like 10:30 a.m.”

“They’ll be open by the time we walk to Chinatown.”

“Okay!” Lunch can only be a good thing. Still clutching your Perrier, you trot after Aegon into the small lobby, scuffed wood floor and cheap IKEA couches. Behind the reception desk, Brandon is making notes in a planner using one of those pens with a fake flower on top. He looks up at you and Aegon as you pass by.

“Brando, I’m taking an early lunch,” Aegon tells him.

Brandon is hopeful. “Are you signing her?”

“Yeah, but it’s just until—”

“Oh for cute!” Brandon cries out, and Aegon is stupefied. But you know exactly what Brandon means. He must be from Minnesota too. So that’s why he liked my resume. Los Angeles is kind of like the military; once you’re swimming in this multinational fishbowl, everyone from your home state is a friend.

“What part?” you ask, smiling.

“Duluth.”

“Bet the Pacific Ocean beats Lake Superior any day.”

“Have you been to Venice Beach yet?”

“Oh yeah. Heaven on earth.”

“Good luck with everything,” Brandon says, and then he winks. “I hope you get to stay.”

Stay in L.A. Stay here chasing the dream. Me too. Then you follow Aegon through the front door and down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, out into breezy mid-70s air and sunlight peeking from behind pure white tufts of cumulus clouds. You can hear music and dogs barking. The street is lined with quaint midcentury houses with metal fences and humming air conditioning units in the windows; any businessowners here are hanging their own shingle, beauticians and pet groomers and bakers. On the horizon, you can see the silvery skyscrapers of Downtown.

“So about that resume I clearly didn’t read,” Aegon says as he walks with his hands in his pockets. “Have you done any meaningful acting work since you’ve been out here?”

Why lie? “No.”

He gives you a shellshocked look like this is the worst case scenario. “Well…I appreciate your honesty. So you’ll take anything.”

“Absolutely anything. I mean…” You take an anxious swig of your Perrier. “I’d really rather not be naked.”

He’s laughing again. You’re not sure if he thinks you’re funny or ridiculous. “I’m not going to pitch you for roles that require nudity.”

You are relieved. “Okay. Cool.”

“Where did you act before?”

“After college I did some short films for grad students…they’re all pretty terrible, I’ll admit it, but I didn’t write them…and I was in a bunch of shows at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. And I worked in the gift shop.”

“Guthrie?” Aegon says. “Like Woody Guthrie?”

“No, common mistake. A completely different Guthrie. Some English lord who was a director.”

“Which shows were you in?”

You describe your roles, all supporting, none leading: Romeo and Juliet, Othello, A Streetcar Named Desire, Pride and Prejudice, Julius Caesar, Anastasia, Frankenstein, August: Osage County, Richard III, Dracula. Aegon listens but he watches you too, the way you stride in your TOMS wedges over the cracked and uneven sidewalk, the way you use your hands too much when you talk, a habit you’re trying to break. His eyes on you—that deep and tumultuous blue—do not feel like a leer, and you think you’ve acquired enough experience in your past three months in Los Angeles to know the difference. Aegon’s gaze is no longer disinterested but methodical, practiced, ever-seeking, notes transcribed not in ink but electrical impulses and ineffable cyclones of neurotransmitters.

“Dracula,” Aegon jokes. “Vampire experience, huh? Maybe we could get you in the Twilight reboot.”

“Is that really happening?”

“It is, but it’s going to be animated. So it’s only voice acting. And I think we can aim higher than that.” He pauses at an intersection and looks lost for a few seconds, then remembers the way and bears to the right. This street is busier, hectic with shops and pedestrians, teenagers on skateboards, vendors advertising their fruit smoothies and boba teas. Red banners printed with twisted dragons and Chinatown 2025 hang from the streetlights. Towering palm trees cast shadows in the shape of windblown leaves. “Do you get along with your roommate?”

This is a random question. You finish your Perrier and discard the glass bottle in a trashcan. “Yeah, she’s really nice, we’re friends. Why?”

“Good. Housing instability is a huge source of stress for young actors, just wanted to make sure you weren’t in danger of ending up sleeping under a bridge.”

“I might be if her boyfriend ever gets a job and can pay half of the rent.”

“Well if it happens, let me know. I can help get you set up somewhere.” Aegon yanks his phone out of his jeans pocket to check the time. “We’ve got a few more minutes to kill,” he says, and ducks into a market strewn with crates of produce: bitter melon, bok choy, pears, pomelos, dragon fruit, peaches, plums, durian, sweet potatoes, kumquats, lychees. You follow after Aegon as he weaves through narrow, crowded aisles, inspecting the wares and waving to shopkeepers that he recognizes. He asks you as he points to a dozen cardboard boxes overflowing with apples: “Does this make you homesick for Appletown?”

“Apple Valley,” you correct him, laughing. “And not quite. I’d rather have Venice Beach.”

“What’s the state apple of Minnesota?”

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s find out.” He uses his phone to Google it. “Honeycrisp.”

“Oh neat! Those are pretty good.”

“Are they?” He searches until amongst the Granny Smiths and Fujis and Golden Delicious apples he finds a box labelled Honeycrisp. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried one.”

“Now’s your chance.”

Aegon picks up a large, glossy apple, pinkish-red and striped with yellow, and takes a massive bite. Juice dribbles down his mouth and chin; he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “I’m going to pay for it,” he assures you when you look startled. He chews, deliberating. “This apple sucks. This is a flop apple.”

“You are blinded by your anti-Minnesota prejudice.”

“It’s boring.”

“How can an apple be boring?”

“It’s like…too sweet. Not tart enough. Not as good as a Braeburn or a Pink Lady. Here.” Aegon tosses the Honeycrisp apple and you catch it. Then, when you stare at the sizeable bitemark he’s left in the fruit: “Wait, I mean, you don’t have to eat that part, obviously. Try the other side—”

But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

Aegon watches you for a while before he speaks. In the meantime, you finish eating the apple with quick chomps. “Are you medicated?” he says.

“What? No, why?”

“You just seem…I don’t know. Bizarrely happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m in Los Angeles, I’m living the dream, I have a brand new agent. My life is amazing.”

“Okay,” Aegon says uncertainly; but he’s smiling. When you pitch the apple core back to him, he catches it. Then he grabs a plastic bag off a hook and drops one fresh Honeycrisp apple inside. “We’ll let Brando be the tiebreaker.” He shows two fingers to a shopkeeper and pays in cash. You steal a glimpse of your phone; it’s just after 11:00 a.m.

Down the street from the market is a set of steps leading into what appears to be a basement. Instead, when Aegon opens the red door, on the other side is a restaurant already filling up with patrons. The tables are round and covered with crimson tablecloths; at each seat is one of those paper Chinese zodiac calendars with all twelve animals and their descriptions.

“Good morning Mr. Aegon!” a tall middle-aged waitress says warmly and ushers you both to a table by a large fish tank with opalescent pebbles lining the bottom. From the other side of the glass, colossal black-and-orange oscars gawp menacingly. The waitress passes you a menu.

“No,” Aegon says, snatching the menu out of your hands before you can open it. “Order what you’d normally get.”

Obediently, you turn to the waitress. “Do you have moo goo gai pan?”

She nods. “White rice or fried rice?”

“White rice, please.”

“Mr. Aegon?” the waitress says.

“Boneless spare ribs with fried rice. And a pot of tea, and two wanton soups. Thanks, Lanying.”

She hurries away to tend to other customers. You ask Aegon playfully: “Did I make the right choice?”

“You did. Naturally low-calorie but high in vitamins and protein. If you’d ordered the sesame chicken and only taken two bites I’d know that you probably have an eating disorder. But now I’m optimistic.”

“And you got the most unhealthy thing on the menu. What does that mean?”

“Life is short. I try to keep it delicious.” He taps the side of the fish tank; one of the oscars attempts to maul him through the glass. “Do you exercise?”

“Not by choice. I force myself to walk to and from work, and that’s the best I can do.”

Aegon seems alarmed. “I don’t think you should be wandering all over Harbor Gateway. Especially not at night.”

“There are always other people around.”

“Yeah, and some of them might mug you.” The waitress arrives with a pot of tea and two small, handleless cups. Aegon fills both with tea, slides one to you, and reaches for the little plastic container of sweeteners on the table. “Splenda?” Aegon guesses correctly and then flings several yellow packets across the table to you.

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Aegon says. The waitress returns with two bowls of wanton soup and makes conversation with Aegon briefly. She inquires about his health, his parents, his business. You wait until she leaves to ask your question.

“Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you.

Aegon slurps broth from his spoon, stalling. He’s caught off-guard; you can tell by the way deep troubled grooves appear in his brow. That’s part of being a good actor. You have to learn how to read people until you can feel their emotions as if they are your own, until you can mimic them so convincingly your own pulse quickens or your stomach drops. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

“And you’re not even that good of an agent.”

He laughs and shakes his head, just watching you, just trying to figure you out. He looks down at his Chinese zodiac calendar. “What are you?”

“I’m a dragon.”

Aegon reads aloud: “You are eccentric and your life complex. You have a very passionate nature and abundant health. I could see that. Kinda sounds like you.”

“Which animal is yours, the horse?”

“Yeah, 1990.”

You study his description. “Popular and attractive to the opposite sex. You are often ostentatious and impatient. You need people. I don’t think you’re very ostentatious.”

“But no qualms with the other parts?”

“No, the rest seems accurate.”

He stares at you, those overcast blue eyes curious, searching, maybe a little puzzled. When the waitress brings out the entrees, Aegon spears a piece of his boneless spare ribs with his clean fork and offers it to you. “Here, you want to try this?”

You really shouldn’t, but you make an exception. You take his fork and eat: saccharine blood red sauce, glistening gelatinous fat. It’s one of the most delicious bites of food you’ve ever tasted…and then it’s gone. You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass.

You walk back through Chinatown together, Aegon swinging around his plastic bag with his Honeycrisp apple for Brandon, you listening as he tells you what each shop is known for and points out a temple dedicated to the goddess of the ocean. Now the sky is clear and the sun is high, and hot, and blinding when you aren’t under the shade of awnings or palm trees.

You say cheerfully once you have returned in Elysian Park and you can see Aegon’s office, a blue neon sign that reads Targ Talent Agency pulsing in the window: “So do you have any fun plans for Father’s Day?”

“Nope. My dad’s dead.”

“Oh my God.” You’re so mortified you almost trip over your own feet, your TOMS wedges stumbling over the pavement. Aegon instinctively reaches out to steady you, and you grasp his hand gratefully. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It happened when I was in college so I’m used to it.”

“He must have been young.” Forties? Fifties?

“Yeah,” Aegon says shortly, letting go of you. “Are you doing anything special?”

“My parents are paying to fly me back to Minnesota. But I won’t be gone long, I promise. It’s just a few days.”

Aegon smirks roguishly. “Going to make time to see that ex-boyfriend while you’re there?”

You smile, a little bashful, a little mischievous. “I might.”

He chuckles. “Enjoy. Don’t get pregnant and ruin all your hopes and dreams.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I can’t take the pill because it made me suicidally depressed but we use condoms.”

Aegon is bewildered, his jaw hanging open. “You don’t overshare like this in auditions, do you?”

“No, sorry, I thought you were asking me a question.”

“It wasn’t a question, it was a comment.”

“Oh. I thought it was a question.”

He shakes his head and stops at the 2003 Honda Accord—painted in a shade called Desert Mist Metallic—parked curbside, a gift from your parents when you went away to college only to return in disgrace with a Theater Arts degree that they lie to their friends about. From one of the nearby houses, you can hear Take It Easy by The Eagles drifting out into the sun-drenched street. “Is this your ride?”

“Yup! This is me.”

“Well I’m going to make some calls and see what I can get you, and I’ll let you know either way in a few days how it’s going. Brandon has your phone number and headshots…and I can find your acting reels on YouTube if I need them…yeah, I think that’s everything. Okay?”

“Okay. I hope you get the star.”

Again, you have confused him. “What?”

“In the Mario game. The one on the eel’s tail.”

Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

“Aegon?” you call after him. At the top of the concrete steps, he pauses and turns around. Here in the shadowless midday light, you are overwhelmed with gratitude. It’s difficult to speak without your voice breaking. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

He opens the door and disappears inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Guess who has an agent?!” you announce ecstatically as you burst into the apartment. Baela and Jace are in the living room on the velvet orange couch, eating sushi and watching True Blood on the 40-inch flatscreen television that Baela’s parents bought for her.

“Congratulations!” Baela says from the couch. “Finally! I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

“Is he nice?” Baela asks, meaning your new agent.

“I think so,” you say thoughtfully. You aren’t sure that nice is the right word. “He’s kind of weird and grumpy. But I really like him.”

“Is he old?”

“Not at all. Aegon’s thirty-five.”

“Ew,” Baela says. “Old.”

“I really like him,” you say again, smiling to yourself without realizing you’re doing it.

Baela groans. “Please don’t be one of those girls who fucks their agent.”

“No, it’s not like that. He’s engaged to someone super gorgeous. They’re getting married in September.”

“Huh,” Baela replies, losing interest now. Her eyes have drifted back to the tv. She hasn’t landed a role as a film lead or a series regular yet, but she’s been working steadily since she got to L.A. and her star is ever-rising. Tomorrow she is auditioning for Yorgos Lanthimos’s new movie. She’s not allowed to tell you anything about the script. It’s a secret; it’s an honor.

You go to the kitchen for a drink and stop when your gaze catches on the calendar affixed to the stainless steel refrigerator with plastic magnets shaped like pineapples. Friday, June 20th is circled with red ink; in the box below, you have scrawled the necessary details.

Baela twists around on the couch and sees you. Her voice is gentle; she knows you’re nervous. “When’s your appointment?”

“Next week.”

“You’re really getting sliced up?” Jace says.

You smirk at him, less than appreciative. “It’s just a consultation. But yeah, probably.”

“You scared?” Jace asks, gnawing on a pod of edamame.

Obviously. You sigh. “I think it has to happen if I want to land roles.”

“I haven’t gotten any plastic surgery yet,” Baela says, not meaning to sound smug.

You murmur as you ponder the time and address written in red on the calendar: “Well nobody is saying you need to.” You’ve had no less than ten people suggest implants outright, and far more have implied it. Aegon is the only person you can think of who dismissed the idea summarily…and that includes your parents. Your father has been emailing you doctor recommendations. He must think it’s a good investment for your post-California-detour life.

“It will give you more confidence,” Baela says as she turns back to the tv. “A little extra something to take you to the next level.”

You stare at her forlornly from the kitchen. You are suddenly very aware that you miss being outside: the sun, the heat, the swaying palm trees, the radiant kinetic potential. “That’s part of the problem? My confidence?”

She shrugs, using her chopsticks to dunk a piece of her tuna roll in a small plastic container of spicy mayo. She seems oblivious to how deflated you are. “It’s just so hard to stand out here, you know? The phrase ‘California dime’ exists for a reason.”

Jace glances at you over the back of the couch. “I think you look fine.”

“Thanks, Jace.”

“I think you’re easily a California nickel.”

“That’s super sweet, Jace.”

Now Baela is telling him to shut up and they’re bickering back and forth, but you aren’t listening. You take your phone out of your purse and open Instagram. You search for Aegon and find his account; his username is superstargaryen. You follow him. Within a minute, just long enough for you to click through one of his highlight reels—mostly pictures of the beach and trips to In-N-Out Burger—he follows you back. Then you receive a DM.

Aegon has typed: Brando says the apple is good

You giggle to yourself as you tap out a reply. Told you :)

Aegon responds: Or!!! All Minnesotans have no taste

And then he adds a few seconds later: I had to Google that word…Minnesotans…sounds fake

You reply: Please use Google to get me a job instead

He starts typing something, then stops and reacts with a laughing emoji instead. You pull a can of Diet Coke out of the fridge, wondering what he was going to say before he changed his mind.

Late that night, after a nine-hour shift at Cold Stone Creamery, you shower and crawl exhausted into bed wearing an oversized blue L.A. Dodgers t-shirt that you’re swimming in. You turn on your laptop and open YouTube, search for Aegon’s acting reels from ten years ago, fall asleep listening to his voice like the endless ethereal rush when you hold a seashell to your ear.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen x you #hotd fic #hotd fanfic

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earthchica · 2 months ago

Text

Funny How Times Files | 6

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

Summary: You and Terry have been togather for two years now. Terry thinks it's time to expand and take the next big step in the relationship.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), dirty talk, making love, romantic vacay, fluff, engagement, anxiety, insecurity, weight gain, mention of pregnancy, nicknames (baby, baby girl) words: (3k)

note: one more part left.

series masterlist

You and Terry have been happily together for two years; your relationship has flourished, building a stronger bond filled with love, warmth, joy, and countless cherished moments.

Recently, Terry mentioned that he has planned something special for the upcoming week, which he hasn’t revealed yet. You can’t help but feel excitement as you wonder what he has in store.

"Terry, are we there yet?" you asked, your voice tinged with excitement as he helped you out of the car. The sun's warmth enveloped you, trying to adjust to the bright light.

You felt his hands gently remove the cover from your head. "Yes, we are here!" he proclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm. As you turned to take in your surroundings, your breath caught.

Before you stood a stunning white villa, its green window shutters contrasting beautifully against the pristine exterior. The villa had a commanding view of the beach, with the waves lapping gently at the shore.

You and Terry were at the Round Hill Resort in Montego Bay, Jamaica—a place that Maya and Cam had raved about. You had been bubbling with excitement to experience it.

You glanced over at Terry, who wore a broad smile that lit up his face. "Oh, Terry, I love you," you exclaimed, your heart swelling with joy as you jumped into his arms, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace.

"I love you too, baby. Come on, let's get checked in," Terry said, his voice warm and inviting. After checking in to your oceanfront king room, decorated in elegant all-white tones, you settled in, marveling at the breathtaking view from your private balcony.

“Oh my goodness, this is beautiful!” you squealed, your eyes wide with wonder as you took in the picturesque sunset, which painted the sky in shades of orange, pink, and purple.

"We should watch the sunset after dinner!" you suggested, your excitement bubbling. Terry stepped closer, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, drawing you near.

“And in the morning, we can watch the sunrise!” he added, planting a soft kiss on your neck that sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah!” you nodded enthusiastically.

Witnessing the beauty of the sunrise and sunset every day fills you with bliss. This entire vacation felt like a dream come true, especially after the busy routines you both had been caught up in.

You embraced the thrill of jet-skiing, enjoyed lively matches on the tennis court, unwinded at the luxurious spa, and savored exquisite meals together; each moment seemed to blend seamlessly into the next.

You took countless pictures during this trip, capturing memories you would treasure forever. With a smile, you admired yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of contentment.

Tonight marked your 2nd anniversary, and Terry had planned an incredibly romantic dinner on the beach for the two of you. As you prepared.

You decide to style your hair in protective long curly twist braids and put them in in an updo, enhancing your natural beauty with a light touch of makeup.

You chose a sexy, short white dress that complemented your dark-brown skin, making you feel radiant and confident. You took one last look in the mirror, knowing you would drive Terry wild.

“Hey—wow…” Terry exclaimed, entering the bathroom, his eyes widening at seeing you. He wore a gold chain, a colorful button-up shirt underlining his toned physique, and white shorts.

Terry always looked incredibly handsome. “How do I look?” you asked playfully, twirling to show off your outfit. He approached you, his gaze filled with admiration and a hint of desire.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, his voice smooth and sincere. “And the dress?” you teased, raising your brows while motioning to the fabric that hugged your figure.

Terry stepped closer, his hand brushing against the fabric of your dress. “It looks good enough to rip off,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

Terry placed his hands on your plump waist and kissed your neck softly. “Terry—” you moaned softly, feeling the warmth of his affection ignite a spark within you.

You reminded him, “We’ll be late for our dinner!” You gently pushed yourself away, trying to catch your breath. Terry bit his lip, his eyes glinting with playful mischief as he nodded in agreement.

“You’re right, but you’re in for it when we return,” he said, his voice low and alluring. You couldn't help but smile, knowing he knew what you were doing.

“Okay, big daddy,” you teased, quickly moving out of the hotel room before he could react to your words. You rushed ahead, laughing as he followed, a lust glint in his eyes.

You and Terry left the hotel suite and headed to the beach for a romantic dinner. The sound of the waves and the soft glow of the candles set the perfect mood.

As you and Terry sat at the beach, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over your dinner setting. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashed gently against the shore.

“Yo, this place is beautiful,” Terry said, a soft smile spreading across his face as he looked into your eyes. “I'm so happy we’re able to travel and explore beautiful places like this.”

“Right? It feels like a dream,” you replied with a light laugh, reaching across the table to hold his hand. “And I love how you make everything feel so special.”

Terry squeezed your hand, his eyes twinkling. “You know, I’ve been thinkin’…we’ve been together for two amazing years now, and you mean the world to me. I'm ready for that next step?”

Your heart raced at his words. “You mean like marriage, Terry?” you asked, a teasing smile on your lips. “What? You trying to put a ring on it?”

Terry chuckled, a bit shy yet confident. “Yeah, you already know how much I love you and how much you mean to me.” He leaned in closer, brushing your cheek.

“And you know how I want to spend the rest of my life with you, have a family, the whole thing. I want to become a reality.” You felt warmth wash over you, the air filled with romance.

Terry grabbed your hand and motioned to get up, his expression serious yet filled with love. He knelt on one knee and pulled out a small velvet box without warning.

“So, what I’m tryin’ to say is…will you marry me, baby?” He asked, and you gasped, brimming with happiness as you realized what was happening.

The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the crashing waves. “Yes, Terry! Yes, of course, I will!” you exclaimed, tears of joy filling your eyes as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

Terry got up, pulling you into a passionate kiss before holding you in a tight embrace. You both stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, as if time stood still, surrounded by the moment's beauty.

You and Terry enjoyed the rest of your dinner. Eventually, you both returned to the hotel suite and couldn't keep your hands off each other.

Terry, being the pleaser that he is in the bedroom, had already made you cum two times. "That's it, baby. Be a good girl and spread your legs for me," Terry said, slapping your sensitive pussy.

Let out a moan as your plump legs spread wide open as far as you can. Terry stroked himself and began sliding his length up and down your pussy lips before thrusting slowly deep.

You moaned while staring up at him with desire. "You like it when I go deep inside those guts, baby?" Terry asked, his voice was low and sensual.

"Yes, Daddy! yes, Fuck me. It's so deep, Dick is so good." You cried, throwing your head back in pleasure, still holding your legs, and he chuckled, pinching your nipples.

"You are so beautiful, you know that. I can't wait to have you as my wife so I can give you all the babies. Would you like that baby?" Terry asked, thrusting up harshly, making you moan louder.

"Yes, Daddy, I want to have your babies!!" You moaned with a slight chuckle of joy, feeling good he still wanted babies with you. Terry smirked, coming down to kiss you and wrapping your legs around his waist.

You pulled away, tilting your head to the side as Terry picked up the pace, going faster and harder. "You are so good at loving me, Terry. You are gonna be such an amazing husband and father. I know it."

"Fuck, baby! you don't know how much that means to hear. I feel so incredibly loved by you; you're gonna be a great wife and mother. I'm glad you’re all mine," Terry said, getting emotional and kissing you.

You pulled away, giving him a look, and already felt your orgasm forming. "Do you wanna cum, baby?" Terry asked, slightly sitting up to look down at his dick going in and out of you.

"Ahhh yes," You cried in response with a moan, trying to hold off until you couldn't anymore. "Beg for it; tell me how much you want to come, baby," Terry said.

He sat up fully, placing his hand around your waist as your fingernails dug into his arms. "Please, Daddy," You whimpered; you couldn't hold anything longer.

"Please, what?" Terry asked seductively. "Please let me cum, Daddy," you begged with tears in your eyes, gripping his wrists, feeling your legs shake and tense up.

"Fuck, cum baby," Terry moaned, feeling his orgasm coming. "Cum on this dick, clench it. I love it when you do that, baby," He whispered, going to kiss you softly.

"Ahhh, Terry!!!!" You moaned, muffling his name while your eyes rolled in the back of your head. You felt yourself clenching his throbbing dick, and the most fantastic orgasm rip through you.

You were coming from your high; Terry kept thrusting and thrusting, grabbing your waist harshly and making you arch your back. "Mmm...I want to be filled with your cum; get me pregnant."

Terry moans at your words, pounds you into your pussy undeniably, reaching for that climax. "Shit, baby girl Are you sure? Because I'll give it to you if you want it."

"Yes, Daddy, give me all your cum; give a baby, please," You moaned, pulling him down into a kiss, and that was all he really needed to go over the edge.

Terry pulls from the kiss and moans in your ear as he shakes from spilling his seed inside you, causing both of you to moan. You place your hands on his back, caressing him as he calms down.

Both of you lay there for a few minutes until he finally pulled out and flipped onto his back on his side of the bed. You looked over at him, and he looked at you with those eyes.

He smiled as he reached to rub your belly. "Hopefully, I succeeded," Terry joked, still trying to catch his breath. You giggled playfully, hitting his chest before going in for a kiss.

Two weeks later, after returning from your trip, you and Terry excitedly announced your engagement to both of your families and mutual friends.

They were all so happy for you and him that you immediately began planning the wedding. After a few more weeks, you started to feel sick.

As you lay in bed, feeling hope and unease, Terry sat beside you, gently stroking your hair. "You good, babe? You have been lookin' a little out of it," he said, concern in his voice.

“I don’t know, Terry. I-I just got this feelin’ in my gut,” you replied, biting your lip and placing your hand on your belly. “That I might be pregnant or somethin’.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “For real? Do you think so? You wanna take a pregnancy test?” He asked, looking cupping your cheek.

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, I think I should. Just to know for sure.” With that, you got up slowly and headed to the bathroom, holding your breath.

You took the pregnancy test and set a timer for three minutes, anxiety bubbling inside you like a pot about to boil over. Those three minutes felt like hours, just as you were about to check.

Terry knocked gently on the door. “Is everything okay in there? Are you good, baby girl?” he asked, and you opened the door slightly, the test hidden behind your back.

“I…I think I might be,” you stuttered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I just—” Before you could finish, you pulled the test out, your hands trembling.

“Terry, I’m pregnant!” you blurted out, tears streaming down your face. He stared at the test in disbelief, his eyes widening before a huge smile broke across his face. “No way! Are you serious?!”

“Yup! Look!” You laughed through your tears, and Terry’s face lit up joyfully. “Baby, we gonna be parents!” He pulled you into a big hug, his own eyes misty.

“I can’t believe this, I’m so happy! We’re gonna do this together, you and me.” Terry said, kissing your face, causing you to giggle. “I know, I know! It’s a lot to take in, but I’m so excited,” you said, comfortingly.

A few days later, you had your first ultrasound appointment. As the nurse put the gel on your belly, Terry held your hand tightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your palm.

The nurse pointed to the screen and showed your baby. Terry’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “Look at that!” he exclaimed, his voice shaky. “That’s our baby right there!”

“Yeah, it is!” You smiled, feeling the warmth of his happiness. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re going to be a family,” Terry said, wiping his eyes.

“This is the best feeling in the world, I love you," he said, coming down to caress your hair. “I love you too, Terry. You're gonna be great, Dad,” you reassured him, feeling your heart swell with love.

Later that week, you planned a special announcement at your engagement dinner. You could feel the excitement as family and friends gathered around the table.

You exchanged glances with Terry, who gave you a reassuring nod. “Hi, everyone, can I have your attention for a moment?” you called out, your heart pounding.

“Terry and I have something special we would like to share with you all! "you said, and everyone turned to you both, waiting in anticipation.

You glanced up at Terry, who was grinning from ear to ear. “We’re having a baby!” both of you said simultaneously. There was a moment of pure silence.

The room erupted in gasps and cheers. Sasha and Bryce were the first to say, "Congrats to you two!" Following them, Maya and Cam shouted from the back, "No way, congratulations!".

Then your parents and Terry's parents congratulated you, their excitement infectious. The room was filled with laughter, joy, and happy tears.

As the celebration continued, you felt a wave of comfort knowing you were surrounded by so much love and support. Terry looked down at you, his eyes sparkling. “We got this!.”

“You know it!” you exclaimed with a bright smile, leaning in closer to capture their lips in a tender kiss. The warmth of the moment enveloped you both, solidifying the promise of your love.

A few months passed, and you and Terry decided to move up the wedding date. The excitement and nerves were palpable as you headed to your wedding dress fitting your mom, Maya, and Sasha.

As you stood in front of the mirror, a wave of insecurity washed over you, tugging at the edges of your confidence. The wedding dress, a stunning creation adorned with delicate lace and shimmering embellishments, hung elegantly on your frame.

Yet, despite its beauty, it felt somehow off, as if it were meant for someone else. You studied your reflection closely, searching for that spark of joy you had anticipated, but instead, a sense of uncertainty clouded your thoughts.

You couldn't shake the feeling that, even in such a beautiful gown, you were still searching for the right fit—not just in fabric, but in how you truly felt as a bride.

You frowned, pulling at the fabric, and the slight weight gain from your pregnancy struck you. “I just don’t look right,” you muttered to Maya, who stood nearby, her eyes wide with concern.

“Girl, what you talkin’ ‘bout?” Maya asked, stepping closer, a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You look bomb! This wedding dress is made for you!”

“Sweetheart, don’t listen to that little voice of doubt in your head,” your mom said softly, moving closer to you and wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “You’re a stunning bride, and I promise you’re glowing with happiness today!”

Sasha, standing nearby with a warm smile, nodded in agreement. “Right! You’re radiating love and joy. Anyone who looks at you can see how beautiful you are!”

Despite the warmth of their words and the love surrounding you, a wave of emotion surged through you, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

“I just feel…different,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you bit your lip nervously. “I don’t feel pretty in this dress. I feel fat and ugly.”

Sasha shook her head vehemently, her curls bouncing as she turned to face you. “No, girl, don't say that,” Sasha reassured you, her eyes sparkling enthusiastically.

“Just wait until Terry sees you. He will be on the floor when you walk down that aisle!” She added, approached you, and gently wiped away the tears streaming down your face.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, your heart feeling like a lead weight in your chest. “I just don’t know,” you murmured, uncertainty swirling in your mind.

“Let’s take some time to think about this,” your mom suggested gently, her voice calm and grounding. “We’ll come back another day. For now, head home and relax, sweetheart.”

You nodded, grateful for her understanding and support. “Okay,” you agreed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you made your way to change back into your comfortable clothes.

Once at home, you found yourself curled up on the couch, tears streaming down your cheeks. The weight of everything felt overwhelming.

It wasn't long before Terry walked in, and the sight of your tears stopped him in his tracks. “Baby?” he called softly, rushing over. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

You sniffed, trying to compose yourself. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I just… I don’t feel good about myself. I don’t feel pretty for the wedding.”

Terry sat beside you, concern etched across his face. “Ain’t no way, baby girl. You are the most beautiful woman I know! Talk to me, what’s goin’ on?”

“I dunno, it’s just with the pregnancy, the wedding, and everything; I just feel like I ain’t good enough or pretty for you.” You buried your head in your hands, overwhelmed.

Terry removed your hands and gently lifted your chin so you’d look at him, his eyes whole of warmth. “Listen, baby, I love you, no matter what. You have this glow that nobody can take from you."

"You’re my whole world, and I know when I see you in that wedding dress, it's gonna take my breath away.” He continues. “You think so?” you asked, wiping your eyes.

“Absolutely. Now, let me make you some lunch. You need some food, especially our little one,” Terry said, standing up, as he headed to the kitchen.

Terry called over his shoulder, “And I’ll rub those tired feet of yours too!” You couldn’t help but smile. “You better!” A five minutes, he returned with a plate of your favorite food, setting it down in front of you.

“Here, eat this up,” Terry said, grabbing your feet and resting them on his lap. “I ain’t lettin’ you get away with feeling down ‘cause you deserve to feel like the queen you are.”

Terry started gently rubbing your feet, his touch soothing. “You have always been beautiful to me, and I never cared what size you were—I love just how you are. You are beautiful, baby.”

You couldn’t help but beam as you watched him, feeling your heart lighten. “You always know how to make me feel better, Terry. I love you so much.”

"That's my job, baby girl!" he said with a playful grin, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your lips. His eyes sparkled with joy as he continued.

"And I love you too. I can't wait for the day we marry each other, get to make you Mrs. Richmond." His words warmed the air, making your heart flutter, excited about the future you both dreamed of.

#terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond #terry richmond x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black fem reader #terry richmond x black! fem plus size reader #terry Richmond x plus size reader #terry richmond x fem reader #terry richmond fluff

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lgbtpopcult · 24 days ago

Text

Our Top 40 Lesbian Series of All Time 2025 Edition

40. Station 19

39. NCIS Hawaii

38. Under the Bridge

37. Atypical

36. Deadloch

35. Hightown

34. Wheel of Time

33. Vigil

32. Hazbin Hotel

31. The Haunting of Hill House

30. Dickinson

29. Sueños de libertad

28. Gap The Series

27. Orange is the new black

26. Orphan Black

25. 23.5

24. Las Pelotaris

23. La Palma

22. Petrichor

21. Special ops lioness

20. Strawberry Panic

19. Chaser Game w

18. The Owl House

17. Agatha all along

16. Skam Espana

15. Mate the series

14. Derry Girls

13. Monarch legacy of monsters

12. Affair The Series

11. Arcane

10. Yellowjackets

9. The loyal Pin

8. Pluto

7. Killing eve

6. US The Series

5. The haunting of Bly Manor

4. The last of us

3. Fingersmith

2. The secret of Us

1. Harley Quinn

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amirasainz · 2 months ago

Note

Can you write some Gladiator!Carlos and Goddess!Reader? Maybe Charles is the priest that helps Carlos contact Reader and Carlos falls in love with her? Please, please, please♥️♥️♥️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl ♥️

Goddess

The arena roared with life as Carlos emerged into the light, his bronzed skin gleaming under the harsh sun. He raised his gladius, saluting the adoring masses of the Capitol. Every movement of his body, every flick of his raven hair, was calculated and captivating. The people loved him as much for his victories in the arena as for his charm outside it. Yet, beneath the surface of his confident smile, there was a gnawing emptiness, a longing for something he could not name.

In stark contrast to Carlos’ boisterous life, his friend Charles lived in quiet reverence. Charles was a high priest, his life devoted to the goddess Yn, the deity of beauty and sanctuary. He was a man of elegance and grace, clothed in simple but fine robes, his voice soft but commanding. The two had been friends since childhood, their bond forged in moments of shared wonder and mischief.

This particular evening, they sat together in Charles’ serene garden. It was a quiet refuge, full of blooming flowers and soft, tinkling fountains. The sun was setting, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink. A small table laden with fruit, bread, and wine sat between them.

Before they ate, Charles clasped his hands, closing his eyes. “Goddess Yn, radiant light of perfection, we thank you for the sanctuary of your beauty and the peace you bestow upon us. May your grace guide us always.”

Carlos watched, amused but respectful, as Charles plucked a perfect white blossom from a nearby bush and placed it on a small altar dedicated to Yn. He poured a trickle of wine into a shallow dish as an offering.

“You really do take this goddess seriously, don’t you?” Carlos said, his lips quirking in a teasing smile. “You’ve mentioned her before, but I’ve never seen you like this. What makes her so special?”

Charles opened his eyes, his expression serene but passionate. “She is everything. Yn is not just a goddess of beauty, but of sanctuary. She is the place we turn to when the world becomes too much. Her presence is perfection itself. Those who feel lost find solace in her gaze.”

Carlos leaned back, folding his arms. “You speak as if you’ve met her.”

“In a way, I have,” Charles replied, his voice lowering as though speaking a sacred truth. “I have stood in her temple, basked in her light. She has no equal, Carlos. Not in the arena, not in the Capitol, not anywhere. You think you understand beauty, but until you have stood before her, you do not.”

Carlos raised a skeptical eyebrow. “She’s that perfect, is she?”

Charles leaned forward, a knowing smile on his lips. “Come with me to her temple. See for yourself.”

---

The Temple of Yn was unlike anything Carlos had seen before. It stood atop a hill, surrounded by pristine gardens that seemed to glow under the moonlight. The building itself was constructed of pure white marble, its columns etched with intricate designs of vines and flowers. Soft music seemed to drift through the air, though Carlos could not see its source.

Charles led him inside. The interior was quiet, the air thick with the scent of jasmine. At the far end of the temple was a statue of Yn, a figure of striking beauty carved from pale stone. She stood with one hand outstretched, her expression serene yet commanding.

Carlos was about to scoff at the statue’s perfection when he felt a sudden shift in the air. From behind the statue, a figure emerged.

It was her.

Yn walked forward, her movements so fluid it was as if she were gliding. Her form was human, yet ethereal. Her hair cascaded like molten gold, and her eyes held galaxies within them. She did not speak, but her presence spoke volumes.

Carlos fell to his knees without realizing it. “Yn,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He fumbled with the pouch at his belt, producing gold coins and laying them at her feet. From his pocket, he drew a crimson flower, offering it alongside the gold. “Take these, goddess. Take anything. Take my heart—it’s yours.”

Yn’s gaze fell upon him, and he felt as though the world had stopped. She stepped closer, the faintest smile gracing her lips. Then, to his astonishment, she bent down and kissed his cheek. Her touch was like a spark of fire and ice, leaving him breathless.

She turned next to Charles, her most faithful follower. With infinite tenderness, she stroked his face, her fingers lingering as if in silent gratitude. Charles closed his eyes, a tear escaping down his cheek.

Without a word, Yn turned and disappeared back into the shadows of her temple.

---

Carlos remained kneeling long after she had gone, his mind spinning. When he finally looked up at Charles, his expression was one of pure devotion. “She is… everything you said and more. I understand now.”

Charles placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, his own eyes still shining with emotion. “I knew you would. It is a gift to find faith, Carlos. You have seen her. You are changed.”

“I am hers,” Carlos murmured, clutching his chest as if to steady the storm of emotions within him. “Forever.”

Charles smiled, his heart swelling with pride. His dearest friend had found what he had always hoped he would: devotion to the goddess who had shaped his life. Together, they sat in the quiet temple, the lingering presence of the goddess Yn wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#f1 x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female oc #charlos #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator #goddess!reader

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ldysmfrst · 3 months ago

Text

American Mate (15) - The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 15 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,492

Work count for Story: 123,187

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, and discussions of past trauma, violence, abuse, illegal sex work, underage escort services, and threats of death. THIS IS A HEAVY CHAPTER.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

It's so warm, soft, and orangey.

Wait, orange? ‘When did the pillows ever smell this orange-like?’ You think this as sleep slowly fades away.

The light from the sitting window shines as the sun rises over the hills. You haven’t felt this well-rested since you used to curl up on the couch with your father before he skipped out on the family. Well, maybe the kitty piles with Evie’s family were this good; then again, maybe not. Chasing the evil thoughts away, you snuggle into the pillow harder when you realize– it’s purring.

That is when you feel a chin snuggle down on your head, something tightening around your waist, and… is that a hand rubbing on your back? There is also the slight rise and fall that you failed to recognize, which should have reminded you from the start that you weren’t alone. Slowly tilting your head up, you blink them to focus on the sleepiest and warmest dark red eyes. There is a sleepy smile on the Alpha’s face as he purrs more at your attention.

Your night comes back to you as you remember asking the now-purring panda hybrid to stay with you because being alone again or even sleeping after having nightmares was not something you were good at doing. Honestly, you don’t even remember falling asleep.

Moving back away, the Alpha’s grip holds strong, peaking open one dark red eye at you before he says, “No, stay. Sleep more,” and promptly falls asleep again.

“Alpha Chim, I really should get up,” you softly reply, not wanting to disagree with him, but you did have to pee. Even though you would love to relish the body heat provided by the Alpha, proving Namjoon’s point from yesterday, you didn’t want his mates to find you two like this.

When you go to move your arms again, you find that you have one arm under his waist, one resting on his chest, one leg between his, and the other over his hip. Great! Either you were a tornado, and this is his way of containing you, or he is a cuddler.

Snickers are heard off to the side of the bed, snapping your attention to see who else is in the room. Seokjin is leaning against one of the bedposts, his eyes like crescent moons as he smiles at the two of you.

“He is strong for being one of our tiny mates. Need to get away from Alpha Chim?” he asks quietly, moving closer to the middle of the bed. You nod, hesitant to speak up and wake the still-sleeping Alpha, who is very much attempting to be one with you.

Tapping your leg, Seokjin signals you to move it off Alpha Chim’s hip, making you blush because you realize again how compromising your situation's look is to the eldest bonded mate in the Bangtan pack.

Your movement, however, causes the red panda to wiggle into a smaller ball with a slight pout and, in turn, releases your leg from between his. While making the soft-looking red panda even cuter, it also allows some wiggle room for the arm trapped under his waist.

Looking at Seokjin, you can see the oldest mate taking in the many options for the situation you are unaware of. A smile graces your face as you see the puffy eyes from him recently waking up, the red line on his cheek from a crease in his pillow, and the non-brushed hair on his head. How his one sleeve is pushed up to his elbow shows off the lean strength of this forearm and the slimness of his wrist.

This is the real Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes trace the contours of his face before meeting his eyes, which are watching you ogle him. Immediately, you blush and hide your face in Jimin’s chest, putting yourself back towards the very hybrid that you are currently trying to flee from.

“My Dear, you have no reason to hide that pretty little face from me,” coos Seokjin. “I am happy you are taking the time to see me. However, hiding in Jimin’s chest won’t help you escape his grasp anytime soon.”

You let out a slight whine, pulling a more resounding, instinctually calming purr from Jimin. Glancing back up at him, his eyes are still shut, but his orange is sweeter with a hint more vanilla. Confusion colors your face as the slightly intoxicating scent tries to lure you back to sleep.

“No, no. Don’t let the cuddly panda keep you here. He is notorious for being late to things, my Dear.” Seokjin says as he lifts said panda’s arm draped over your waist. “Lean back.”

Following the direction, you lean back as he rests Jimin’s hand on the space on the pillow that was previously occupied by your head. Well, you are primarily untangled aside from the trapped arm. Tilting your head a bit, you look at Seokjin with an expression that says, ‘Now what?’

Seokjin raises a finger with a smirk, asks you to hold on, and then points for you to watch. Your eyes dart between the two Alpha mates, wondering what the heck is gonna happen.

Seokjin leans down, chittering in Jimin’s ear, and softly kisses just behind his lobe, causing the panda to gasp slightly. Continuing to lay soft kisses on the sleeping mate, Seokjin kneels outside the nest with one hand on the wall behind you.

While Seokjin technically does not cage you in, you are being hovered over by the Alpha. It feels similar but not overwhelming just yet because it feels safe.

Soft whines mixed with tiny groans escape Jimin’s sleeping form, bringing your attention out of your thoughts. Your eyes do not know if they want you to watch the slow flushing of Jimin’s skin as he is peppered with kisses or the smooth, taught muscles of Seokjin’s chest that you can glimpse now that gravity has pulled his sleeping shirt away.

It’s Jimin who finally wins with a high, keen sound escaping. Now his soft lips have parted, his breathing has sped up, and his hand on the pillow is grasping tight. How he is still sleeping through this amount of affection is beyond you. Even more confusing is why Seokjin isn’t upset that his ministrations are being, well, ignored by the younger.

“In a moment, you will know when; please move out of your nest, that is, if you still want to,” Seokjin whispers, glancing at your heated face.

You nod, still fascinated by the sight before you. Half of you wants to know what it would feel like to be Jimin, another half wants to be Seokjin, and a whole different version of you that you haven’t felt in a long time wants to stay and watch it play out.

If you were several years younger, your bladder wasn’t screaming at you, and there wasn’t the mantra about them being bonded mates of Bangtan, you could see how any rational young woman would have jumped at the chance.

Seokjin can smell your evident attraction to what is happening, but because of what he overheard from the open window last night when you and Namjoon returned, he knows he cannot push it more than he already has. He wants you to know that the option is there, but he can see in your eyes that you are still not seeing them for who they are to you.

Using the arm against the wall to keep himself propped up and not falling into your nest, Seokjin uses the other to lower Jimin’s sleep shirt, exposing his shoulder and neck. Tailing his kisses down to the juncture where they meet, Seokjin bites down enough to jerk Jimin’s body in a startled manner, which twists the panda onto his back. Jimin’s arms fly up to wrap around Seokjin’s upper body, almost as if he is grounding himself as he is woken up by the feisty actions of his older mate.

With a gasp and an inappropriate amount of arousal, you almost miss your chance to pull out your arm as Jimin jerks and twitches under Seokjin’s distraction-induced ministrations. The strength the elder shows by holding himself aloft while the younger clings to him is astonishing.

Scrambling out of bed, you bolt into the bathroom and shut the door. Making your way to the sink, you don’t dare look in the mirror because you already know how flush your face is. You can feel the heat coming off of you in waves. You were taught better than this; you bit your bottom lip with the thought that your family would be beside themselves with distaste at your reactions.

You are 10000000% sure that Seokjin could smell your reaction to what he was doing and was awake enough to understand whatever he would understand from that. You don’t think Jimin even realized you were still in the bed with the both of them, much less how your internal slut was reacting. You would only hope that Seokjin was okay with it. Being okay with it at the moment and being okay with it hours later are two vastly different things.

You were human and a woman, after all. Jimin had mentioned that previous Playmates were homosexual. Would that be upsetting to them if you weren’t? Aside from Yoongi and Jungkook, do they even realize that you are, in fact, only straight?

While you have no issues with any of the LQBTQ+ lifestyle, community, and an individual’s preferences, look at Derek and Lily; you were bland, plain old heterosexual. You weren’t opposed to the idea of noting how sexy or beautiful a biologically trans, cross-dressing, or drag queen female form was. You just weren’t interested in pursuing them sexually because most of them you might be curious about were way out of your league. Out of your league, just like the Bangtan Pack.

Today, this meeting with the packhouse of Alphas has to happen. There is too much in the air that you need to really get settled before you find yourself doing something unladylike or, worse, getting fired. With that thought, you go about your morning routine.

The rest of the pack house sounded quiet, prompting you to take time for yourself. After making a cup of Earl Gray tea with a bit of honey and milk, you grabbed a blanket from the living room and went outside to the pavilion you noticed while talking to Ryan on the phone the other day.

Moving one of the chairs to face the sun as it rose, you bundled yourself in the blanket and sipped your tea. Your mind wandered about everything you wanted to discuss with the Bangtan pack.

You had to share your past with them as you did with Namjoon, and then your family history explained the human fort/nest issue. There was also the desire to set some ground rules, like private me times or intimate with each other times.

You weren’t a prude.

You knew they were bonded mates and what that meant. They even told you they took care of their ruts within the pack. So, you just needed to know what to do when those times came along. Today was the second time you had been very much present, and at least one, if not both of them, had been 100% aware you were there when they did… stuff, and you didn’t want to impose.

Though the fact they would even do stuff like that with you around would indicate that you were, in fact, not imposing, but that didn’t mean that the others like Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok would think the same way. It also didn’t mean that they would be comfortable with you just being there and watching them like they were your own personal live-action porno.

You continued thinking of things you needed to do over the remainder of the day, like maybe fixing or changing the fort, who’s not-date date would be next, etc.

What you didn’t notice was the three sets of eyes watching you.

Jungkook was heading inside when he heard you messing around in the kitchen, looking for whatever you were looking for. His little heart was racing a million beats per minute when you almost caught him in his animal form as he scrambled into a bush near the door when you came outside. He knows that you are not her, but at the same time, that doesn’t mean you won’t react like her.

Yoongi and Taehyung watch you from the second-story window of one of their dens. Both are not fond of the idea that you are purposely sitting alone, outside, in the cold, by yourself, and deeply thinking about something that could very well lead you to a place that doesn’t involve them without anyone with you.

Did they note just how by yourself you thought you were?

They could tell you were unaware of the Alpha outside with you because you didn’t come running and screaming inside, or you didn’t end up with a rabbit the size of a dog in your lap.

“Why is she alone, hyung?” asks Taehyung with a large pout on his lips and a furrow of his brow.

“Humans tend to cherish their time alone. They don’t have the pack mentality that we are born with,” answers Yoongi with his tail snapping back and forth.

Huffing, Taehyung whines, “She even made her own drink. Does she not understand that it is my job to do that right now? How will I ever gain her forgiveness if she doesn’t let me show her that I care for her and can provide?”

The soft steps of another mate joining them paused the conversation. Jimin hugs Taehyung around the waist, burying his face between the taller mate's shoulder blades. Low-toned chittering and purring fills the silence, pulling their attention to the shortest mate.

“What's got you in such an interesting mood, Jimin-ah?” inquires Yoongi as he moves away from the window to look at the panda’s face and sees the deep red eyes. “Oh, sorry, Alpha Chim.”

“That would be a combination of me and Y/n,” Seokjin says from the doorway. “Our minnie love decided to find his way into Y/n’s nest last night to sleep.”

“What?!” exclaims both Yoongi and Taehyung. The latter pulls out of the back hug to look at Alpha Chim’s flushed face. Taking a deep breath, Tae can smell the sweetness of his oranges mixed with cherries from Jinnie, but there is a sweetness almost like they were candied, which could only come from you.

“You did not,” Yoongi states more than he questions.

“He didn’t. Nothing was done between them other than holding onto each other like a pair of koalas as they slept fully clothed. I had to help Y/n wiggle herself out just to go to the bathroom,” chuckles Seokjin. “Someone didn’t want his ladymate to leave the nest this morning.”

“Then why is Alpha Chim out?” wonders Taehyung out loud.

Crunching his face, Seokjin says, “Not sure, actually. He was out when she woke up. I wonder if Alpha Chim was sleeping with y/n for some reason.”

“Protect, mate,” Alpha Chim finally speaks up. “Nightmares. Crying. Alpha, protect Luna– mate.”

A collective understanding spreads in the room. Taehyung closes the distance between him and Alpha Chim, kissing his forehead. Yoongi follows suit and kisses the Alpha on the cheek.

“Such a good Alpha. Consoling, reassuring, and protecting her,” says Yoongi. “Thank you for stepping in for me like a proper mate, Alpha Chim.”

Alpha Chim nods and smiles brightly as his eyes bleed back into Jimin’s natural color. Looking around at the other three mates, Jimin says, “She wants a pack meeting. I think last night spooked her a bit, and Taehyung and I are to blame. Don’t worry, I will join Taehyung in servicing to compensate for it.”

A growl startles the room as it comes from Taehyung. His jaw is set firmly, and he says, “She won’t even let me service her much less adding you into it. She made her own tea or coffee or whatever she is drinking now. She didn’t even try to wake me up.”

“Does she know to wake you up?” asks Seokjin, to which Taehyung shakes his head no. “You cannot blame her for letting you sleep or do whatever then. She is human. She doesn’t want to impose more than she thinks she is already. Remember what manager-nim said.”

“Maybe this pack meeting is a good idea,” conveys Yoongi. “We may not be able to tell her she is our bondable mate right now, but maybe we can clarify more about the rights of being a pack mate she has yet to discover, like waking any of us up if she needs it.”

“Or not running away when there is skinship or intimate moments between us,” mumbles Jimin with a frown. “She ran out like the nest was on fire when Hyung woke me with kisses and a little nibble. You would have sworn he was trying to fuck me in front of her already with how she reacted.”

“You two,” Seokjin points to Yoongi and Jimin, “Go and wake the others. I will make something quick for breakfast. Taehyung, please get her out of the cold. Bring in Kook as well before he has a stroke in the bushes.”

Jungkook has inched closer to you, wanting to watch your features light up as the sun hits them. He knew you were pretty before, but seeing you as the world wakes up was something completely different.

He is going to ask for or acquire cuddles with you today. He has to. With his warm and fuzzy feelings, any other choice was not an option. Being the youngest, he typically got away with more things than the others could, and he has been happy so far that you are allowing him the amount of skinship he has taken so far without complaints.

He hopes it is because you subconsciously feel the bond, not because you see him as a namdongsaeng. He never wants you to see him in that light because it would cause more complications than anyone wants to deal with. It is already enough that all the Bangtan Pack is younger than you. You, being their noona, are sexy in the way that an oppa is sexy to younger women. Unfortunately, a dongsaeng is not sexy in any way. He wants to be sexy to you– they all do.

Taehyung watched his youngest mate feed into his animalistic side as he hopped through the bushes, his little fluffy tail twitching excitedly. He chuckled at the enormous flemish rabbit hiding in the bushes, stalking his newest mate, who was totally in another world. You must feel safe at the pack house because you seem to have lowered your guard. It fills him with pride, even if you do not realize what you are doing.

He can see your profile when he comes out of the door. Stopping his approach, he observed your micro-expressions changing as each thought must have been coiling through your mind. What had such a sobering effect on you?

He whistles as he walks to you to gain your attention without startling you. Noticing your body unconsciously tense at the sound, you look up to find him and relax with a gentle smile. He wants to puff his chest at the fact that you visibly relax with him, which means that you aren’t still mad at him, he thinks.

Apparently, today is the day for lounging and no primping, you think, as Taehyung slowly makes his way towards you with a smirk on his face and a glint in his eye. He is also dressed in sleepwear, although he has now decided to wear a shirt—a flash of his toned chest filters through your mind. Trying not to blush at the memory, you smile at the tiger.

“Good morning, Taehyung,” you greet him with little puffs of breath showing in the still-chilled air.

“Morning, Dove,” replies Taehyung with a lift of his head as he steps into the pavilion. “Why are you sitting out here in the cold?”

You hear his words as you look around, trying to find the mourning dove he spoke of. Frowning, you answer, “I rarely get to see the sunrise from my packhouse. There are too many buildings around me. Plus, I needed to think about some things before the day started.”

“What’s wrong?” questions Taehyung, now looking around for whatever you are looking for, spotting Jungkook and nodding his head toward the door, hoping the little devil would take the hint to go inside already.

“The chueybird,” you say with a bit of sass because what else would you be looking for? Glancing back at the Alpha standing before you, you notice the absolute lack of understanding and giggle.

“A chueybird is what my dad used to call mourning doves. They are a part of the dove family, Columbidae. They have many names but mostly are called the American mourning dove, the rain dove, the turtle dove, and the chueybird,” you explain with a slight tint of sadness.

It isn’t often that you speak about your father. He was an ornithologist, and chueybirds, though common, were one of his favorites. They were the easiest to spot with their lovely, unique coloring. It was also the first bird your father taught you when he would take you bird-watching in the local parks.

A chuckle from Taehyung stops you from searching. Looking at him, you notice the coy smile and crescent moon eyes. “Y/n, I was calling you Dove and saying morning to you.”

You feel your eyes go almost comically wide with a flush to your cheeks as you muse, “Oh… I guess I am a morning bird but more like a terminally exhausted pigeon.”

“Are you not sleeping well?” he questions with concern as he kneels before you. His hands hold your face as he inspects to see the darkened circles under your eyes, along with their puffiness. He also notes the dryness of your skin, though it is still soft.

He thought sleeping with Jimin last night would have allowed you to sleep better, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Maybe it is because of the events with Namjoon and the nightmare that stole your resting sleep.

The warmth of his hands on your face shows just how cold you have gotten sitting outside for who knows how long. You relish in the feeling for a moment longer before you lean back, saying, “It’s normal for me, though. I haven’t been able to sleep well for a few years. Maybe when my pack is around, it’s better…”

You trail off on the thought because you know that for at least the next several weeks, you won't be able to have sleepovers with your pack while having to stay with Bangtan at their packhouse. While you knew you would be giving up on things being here, you never reasonably thought about the home life you would leave behind.

Clearing your throat, “We should maybe get inside. That is why you came out here, isn’t it? Do you have a schedule today that I need to get ready for? I forgot to check my phone.”

Moving his hands to your shoulders, Taehyung helps you stand while keeping the blanket secure. When he held your face, your lips were pale, and your skin was like ice. The tea had long gone cold and had done nothing to keep you warmed.

“I came out here because my Mistress did not wake me to prepare her tea for her or to keep her warm while she contemplated whatever it was you were contemplating in the cold morning air,” grumbles Taehyung.

Scoffing at him, you dispute with, “I’m sorry, but I am not the Idol here who needs his beauty sleep so that a galizzion bajillion stans can fawn over him, now am I?”

Taehyung’s lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed at your remark. You must have stepped over a line you didn’t understand was there. Dropping your head, you fidget by adjusting your grip on the mug, waiting for whatever harsh words he is preparing to say to you.

“It’s time to go inside. Seokjin-hyung is preparing breakfast. The rest of the pack is waiting for us, and after we eat, we will discuss a few things,” coldly informs Taehyung. “Jimin mentioned you wanted a pack meeting, and we will do that.”

Turning your shoulders towards the door, he gestures to it and says, “After you.”

Namjoon couldn’t stop watching you eat while wearing his bathrobe.

Taehyung wouldn’t let you get any of your own food, insisting he was doing this job.

Jimin and Jungkook wouldn’t even look your way without blushing.

Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin were the most normal, but even then, no one really talked about anything.

You insisted on helping Seokjin and Namjoon clear the table but were abruptly stopped by Taehyung, who ushered you to the single plush chair in the living room and made you sit down. Once sitting, you found your lap instantly becoming Jungkook's pillow as Taehyung went to help in your place.

“Y/n, why are you frowning?” asks Jungkook softly, stilling his nuzzling into your plush thighs once he notices your facial expression. Looking at the soft Alpha almost half in your lap while still sitting on the floor, you run your fingers into his hair, causing his eyes to flutter slightly.

“I just feel useless right now, Thumper,” you say, moving to sit more comfortably in the armchair. “Here, come sit between my legs; it will be more comfortable for both of us.”

Jungkook’s ears stand straight up at your offer. He blushes slightly as his ears slowly fold onto his head, asking, “Are you sure, Y/n? I don… that is a very… umm… close way of cuddling.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you purse your lips at him, “Thumper, I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t comfortable with the idea. In fact, it would be nice right now to have your comfort with me or Yoongi’s, but you are here now.”

Nodding, Jungkook twisted around until he was situated between your legs with his knees to his chest. Laying his head on one thigh, he closed his eyes as you resumed finger-brushing his hair. He notes that you are careful not to touch his ears; however, you get so close that he thumps the foot on the ground and grabs your ankles.

“Hmm,” you hear over your shoulder. Turning, you see Yoongi standing just behind the chair with his eyes on your hand in his youngest mate's hair. Slowly, you remove them from the soft locks, pulling a whine from Jungkook, who looks up at you with puppy dog eyes despite the fact he is indeed a Flemish Giant Rabbit.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” comments Yoongi. “I was just wondering why you chose to sit in the chair meant for one.”

The look of, maybe, hurt in his eyes catches you off guard. Shaking your head, “It was Taehyung who sat me here. I had no choice. Then I got seat belted in by a rather large bunny.”

“Hey, you could have moved to a different seat, and I would have followed just fine, Sugar,” Jungkook says, squeezing your ankles.

You shrug and put your hands up, “I don’t know this. When an Alpha, especially one with Tae’s reputation, puts you somewhere– guess what? You stay there,” you say, looking between the two, hoping they get what you mean.

“Yeah, well, right now, it's you who is in control of said Alpha and his reputation,” Yoongi says with a scowl. “Where do you want to sit? Who do you want to sit with?��

Looking at Yoongi like he had almost lost it, Namjoon walked into the living room, followed by Seokjin and the rest. “Y/n, please sit where you want and direct the pack to where you will be most comfortable. It is you, after all, who called the pack meeting,” declared the Prime Alpha.

Your eyes go wide. You called the pack meeting? But you aren’t of a status in the pack to call meetings, right? You are temporary, and you are not the Luna here. Umm… shit. You have overstepped, which must be why breakfast was quiet.

“With your permission, Prime Alpha,” you start in an attempt to mend whatever you had done, only to be cut off by Taehyung as he storms over to you, causing Jungkook to hop out of the way comically.

Dropping to his knees, Taehyung bares his neck slightly because he still wants to look at you and says, “Y/n, my Dove, you called the meeting. Everyone within this pack has a right to call a pack meeting; this includes you. Please.”

Searching his face, you see that he is honest. A movement behind him catches your attention as you focus on seeing Jungkook follow suit and kneel with his neck fully bared to you—your mouth gaps when you hear a whine from behind Namjoon.

Looking in that direction, you see Jimin nibbling on his bottom lip, watching his two mates show signs of submission to you. Taking in the reactions of Namjoon, Seokjin, and Hoseok, they also look worried but not.

After another beat, their eyes all snap at you.

Waiting.

While avoiding seeing Yoongi’s reactions to the unusual display, you look at Taehyung and say, “I would like us to sit comfortably.”

“How would that look to you, Y/n?” questions Hoseok.

“Well, that is a good question,” you reply. You want Yoongi with you more now than before, but you know that Taehyung’s rules require him to sit at your feet, but Jungkook was there.

“Yoongi, Jungkook, and I will sit on the long couch. Taehyung, you will take your place as you should. Then I will leave the rest of you to find your comfort among the rest of the available seating,” you say with as much confidence as a kit.

Yoongi steps around the chair and pulls you to your feet, keeping your hands connected as he follows your directions. It's like someone pushed play. Everyone starts moving without a word spoken.

Yoongi sat to your right. Jungkook sat to your left. Well, he laid down to your left with his head in your lap and pulled your good hand back to his hair with a cheeky smile. Taehyung copied Jungkook’s earlier position of sitting between your legs with one arm wrapped around your calf.

Namjoon took the single chair while Seokjin, Jimin, and Hoesok made it work on the loveseat. Once everyone settled, time seemed to halt. Everyone looked at everything but each other, and the seriousness of the meeting settled over the room.

“Y/n, have you ever held a pack meeting before?” asked Jungkook softly.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you hum, “Ah, well, yes, but never with Alpha’s.”

“It isn’t any different because we are Alpha’s,” Jungkook says encouragingly. “Just talk to us.”

“I think I would do better answering questions than just talking,” you nervously chuckle. Glancing at the three Alphas you surrounded yourself with, you felt a slight ping of hurt that you had left out the others, but they weren’t yours to gather in a puppy pile or horde like a dragon.

“Actually, Jungkook, can you sit up, please? And Taehyung, can you turn to face me?” You ask with firmness. You want to see them as they are Alpha’s. Not the cuddly bunny that had already found an express pass to skinship that you never knew you had, nor the dominating Alpha seeking forgiveness for letting his instincts control his actions when he wasn’t aware of the situation.

The others meet your gaze once they move as you requested, ending with Namjoon. You look at the Prime Alpha with a look you hope conveys the topic you will bring up. He nods once, slowly. Glancing back at Jimin, you are met with a warm smile because he is the one who gave you the idea to do this.

Well, here goes nothing.

“I wanted to have this pack meeting to tell you all something about me and my past simultaneously,” you start, albeit shakily.

Yoongi squeezes your knee, pulling your attention. “You only have to share what you think you need to, nothing more, nothing less.”

“We may ask questions,” interjects Hoseok. “But you don’t have to answer if you are uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, Hoseok,” you smile. “I will try to be as clear as possible. I ask that you wait till I finish before asking questions, if possible?”

Everyone nods, settling into an attentive stance. Their eyes look concerned but patient. Jungkook has scooched a hair closer to you. Yoongi already had his leg pressed against yours, even with him angled as he is to be able to look at you. Taehyung looked slightly conflicted with himself. It wasn’t until you shifted your leg forward to where it brushed his crisscrossed legs that he settled down.

Looking at your lap, you fiddled with your brace as you started.

“My history hasn’t been one of hearts, stars, horseshoes, rainbows, and balloons. It’s been more of bruises, beatings, blood, abuse, and assault. Jimin was unfortunate enough to hear some of what happened when he woke me from my nightmare last night, which is why you found him in my room, Seokjin.

“I know you all know a little because of my medical check-up being in the contract, and Namjoon knows a bit more because I shared it with him last night. I figured it would be good for all of you to know. This way, everyone is informed equally, and I would only really have to tell all of it at once.”

You could hear movements rustling at the implications of your words, but you didn’t dare look to see who was getting antsy or what may have happened because you just needed to keep going.

“I guess I should start at the beginning. I am the youngest of two. My older brother is somewhat of a modern-day gypsy and hikes anywhere, sleeping in a tent, has shaggy hair, is built like a Mac truck, and takes odd jobs. According to my mother, he is living his dreams of being an explorer to help chart nearly impossible things for the advancement of environmental sciences. He does that, too, but it's just his way of escaping her.

“My mother is a socialite. She has never worked a day in her life and never will. She comes from old money and married my father because he was in her social standing to do as such. I am pretty sure she never really loved him, but my father thought the world of her.

“He is a scientist who studies birds. He taught my brother and me basic respect for hybrids, animal rights, and survival methods for backpacking. Last I knew… he was in a different country, so he couldn’t take us with him, besides the fact that my mother wouldn’t let him during the divorce. She said he was too wild to be a proper parental figure.

“As for me, I have never been a thin, lean female growing up. Like my brother, I got my stockiness and size from my father. My father said it just meant that I was sturdy enough for childbearing, but my mother said it was because I had too much of my father in me. She would throw me into the latest dieting or workout trend as if I were some pseudo-celebrity who needed to maintain a particular look.

“I was quickly the target of bullies as early as grade school due to my physical build and hitting puberty earlier than the rest of the class. I could never go to my mother about these issues because I was bringing them on myself. It was always met with cold shoulders, stricter diets, and harsher workouts.

“I didn’t understand how warm a hug was until Evie came into my life. I learned some skinship pack behaviors from the Foust Pack, but humans didn’t readily accept that amount of cuddling. When I hit high school, it only got worse when I would try to do the skinship with new human friends. So, my mother and her sister taught me to use my feminine wiles and skinship behaviors to get the attention of desirable sons of her country club.

“It worked like a drug with those high society boys. They enjoyed the tastefully revealing clothes and the looseness of my inhibitions as they called them. My aunt and mother said they were just showing me affection and that I should be grateful for any type of acknowledgment that I could get. If I mentioned it was uncomfortable, it was because I was ungrateful.”

Taking a deep, steadying breath to gather where you want to head next with the conversation, you note the air is burnt and stormy all at once. It stills you, your brain registering that you are surrounded by very, very unhappy Alphas, which causes you to squirm in your seat.

Glancing up, you meet Taehyung’s eyes briefly and note they are streaked with crystal blue. It's a startling sight that causes you to look around at the rest of the Alphas to find they are the same. Their eyes are fractured between their natural human colors and their Alpha eyes. It looks like lightning for some, and others are split in half or with one eye of each color.

The squeeze of your ankle pulls your widened eyes back to Taehyung. He shakes his head slowly and tilts his head forward. The rest of the room remains silent.

Diverting your eyes back to your hands, you fiddle with the sash to your, Namjoon’s, robe and continue your story:

“In high school, when things would get nasty with the vulgar name-calling, slut shaming, and pranks my classmates would pull, it was harder for me to follow my mother’s rule to tear down the blanket fort. She would catch me and call me things like mongrel or filthy pack-rat.

“My grandmother, meemaw, was the same way. She used to throw me in the closet for the weekend if she found it. She made me swear that I would keep what she was doing a secret. She would do… things to me if I either left the fort up too late or told anyone of the closet, but she passed away about five years ago.

“As some of you know, my mother would follow Meemaw’s lead and make me tear down the fort. She wouldn’t go as far as the closet but do other restrictions or punishments to remind me of my place and worth within the family. She would have had a cow if she knew I had a fort at Evie’s house to use whenever I wanted. The habit of tearing it down is still with me to the point that, even now, I know it is still up and shouldn’t be– according to my mother.

“Aside from the restrictive socialite type raising to be prim, proper, and human, my mother was insistent on having me marry someone of stature and 100% human. Ultimately, she was delighted that I met Eric because he was from a high social class. His parents were chiefs of their respective departments at the hospital. The biggest bonus was that Eric wasn’t a hybrid.

“After my very short-lived rebellion stage and deciding to date an Omega Polar Bear hybrid, she thought he was my forever. Eric was perfect– at first. I guess that should have been my first red flag. He helped my mother when she was ill and bought her a condo when we got engaged. He was so kind, respectful, attentive, but that changed.

“It started with underhanded and crooked compliments, leaving bruises from harsh grabbing to busted lips due to backhands. He was always forgiven because, according to my family, I should have apologized for doing whatever it was that was pushing him to that level of anger.

“I was with him for a long time. I thought he loved me because he got me gifts and would take pleasure in me whenever he wanted to. After we got engaged, I found out I was pregnant and was at seven weeks. I was so happy.

“I just knew that this news of a baby would make Eric happy with me again. He would treat me better because we had proof of our love. When I told him, he reacted like I had told him that I gave him every STD known and unknown to man. This was after waiting hours for him to come home from work at 2 am because he was out having drinks with the boys.

“He punched me for the first time that night, right in the stomach where the baby was. Then he pushed outside and down the stairwell, screaming at me about how ugly, fat, and pathetic I was. He even told me to get rid of the devil’s spawn that I was carrying. I ran. Left everything behind. Evie took me to the hospital, and I ended up with two fractured ribs, an ankle sprain, and a miscarriage.”

By this point, a thrum of energy had filled the room. Barely withheld growls could be heard by only those in the room. The pack remained this way for an unknown amount of time.

Each hybrid takes in what they hear, all of them struggling with their Alpha to not go and hunt down Eric, your mom… Oh, hell, your whole family.

“Sugar,” Jungkook starts gently speaking to you as if you were a piece of glass about to break. “Thank you for telling us everything. I don’t want to diminish what you said, and I am sure some of us have questions for you, but can I share something with you first?”

You nod, grateful for the attention to be off you for the moment.

“You know the age-old saying about fucking like bunnies?” he questions with his ears coming to stand straight up on his head, attentively listening to your reactions.

“Yeah, it’s derogatory now, though,” you answer with a confused but concerned look.

Jungkook smiles at your expression, “It is now, but it isn’t inaccurate. See, I was raised in a fluffle that was a feeder to a large underground brothel. I have more brothers, sisters, and half-siblings than I could name or care to remember. The Madam used rabbit hybrids because we have a short refractory period, and our Omegas have heats up to twice a month. So, it wasn’t hard for them to accept the attention of the trick they were assigned to.”

“I presented as an Alpha Buck, around nine years old. This came as a shock because most rabbit hybrids are Betas or Omegas. I was trained in etiquette and sexual practices right away because I was so rare and would fetch a high price. I was to be used for the elite clients only and allowed to go out on dates with tricks like an escort service,” continued Jungkook, his ears twitching with each of your micro reactions.

“Jungkook, you were so young,” you mumble. He reaches out, offering you his hand, which you take instantly. You are not sure if it is him or you who is seeking the connection of comfort from the other.

“I was in the eyes of the human world. As a hybrid, it isn’t considered traditionally taboo once we present. Just like puberty signals humans that the physical body is ready for mating. It works similarly in the hybrid world, except we follow a more animalistic view and start mating or seeking a bonded mate at that age. However, with the new human laws that help protect hybrids, it is considered illegal,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand.

“I didn’t know about the new hybrid laws because my fluffle had been a part of the underground brothel for several generations. Laws meant nothing to Madam, which meant they were worthless for us to know,” he continued.

“When our agency bought me to become a trainee and ultimately join Bangtan Pack as an Idol, it took a while for the hyungs to get me to understand that we were actually real mates and not to see them as another trick or to think that they weren’t seeing me as a pseudo-Omega. Mates, especially bonded mates, aren’t typical for rabbit hybrids because we have difficulty sticking to a single partner. I think that is why I was lucky enough to have six of them. They showed me what it meant to be a mate, to be loved, to be cherished, and to be protected,” he smiled at each of them before settling his eyes back on you.

“I understand what it means to be groomed into what someone else wants you to be and not be allowed to be comfortable in your skin, Y/n. You don’t have to be what your mother wants you to be, what your aunt or grandmother forced you to act like. With us, you can find who you want to be.” Jungkook leans forward, one of his ears folding in half as he looks at you and says, “You can be as cuddly as a kitty or solitary as a wolverine, and we will all be by your side along the way.”

You can’t help but chuckle slightly as you say, “I don’t think you would make a week without cuddles, Mr. Sneaky.”

“Hey! I can go without cuddling for a week. I am not the one who has been holding on to you this whole meeting, am I?” the bunny says, sticking his tongue out at Taehyung, who playfully sticks his out in return.

“Let’s not get into who is more cuddlier than the other right now. This is a pack meeting with serious topics,” interrupts the Prime Alpha. “Y/n, thank you for sharing everything with us. I knew some of it from the contract and what you shared last night, but I can see it's much more than I even thought of.”

“Dear, are you… do you have anything… have we done anything to upset you?” asks Seokjin.

You blush at his question because it’s not that they have ever upset you. They listened when you have spoken up so far, but there are still blurred lines that you are nervous about talking about.

“Wait, before you answer that, can I ask what happened this morning?” Jimin jumps in with puppy-dog eyes. “I thought everything was good with us sleeping together in your nest, but then you bolted.”

“WHAT!?!” screeches Hoseok and Namjoon.

You immediately pale at their reactions and shrink into a smaller ball, pulling out of Taehyung’s grip and curling your knees to your chest. Your scent turns with bergamot that you went too far and crossed a boundary in your panic after the nightmares.

A growl from your side snaps everyone out of the now-resounding commotion of trying to explain what had happened between you and Jimin in the middle of the night.

“Cut. It. Out,” declares Yoongi. “You guys are acting as if the two of them sharing a nest is scandalous when, in fact, it is a very positive action for the two of them! It has been ages since Jimin has built a nest for anyone outside of the pack nest, and for Y/n to accept it plus invite him to share it with her for whatever her reason was… that is a step forward we all want.”

Muffled by your face buried in your knees, you ask tentatively, “You want that?

Yoongi softly runs his hand over your back, “Yes, Princess. I am sorry we haven’t been as clear as we should have been, but I know I am not good with words unless it’s a rap.”

“Doll,” calls Hoseok. “Can you look at me?”

You tilt your head just enough to see the marten hybrid move Jimin onto Seokjin’s lap as he leans toward you, his hands clasped lightly together. You have seen the look on his face in the rare Teacher Jung videos right before he is about to get strict with the dancers for messing up the choreography.

“There are those beautiful eyes,” he says with a smile that momentarily softens the intense look. “We have done much of this out of order– like all of it. We need to discuss boundaries with you. Since we are an established pack, we easily forget that you are new, not only to Alphas but to Bangtan.”

“Hoseok-hyung is right,” adds Namjoon. “We should have said most of this before the contract was signed, but it wouldn’t change anything.”

You lift your head farther up to see the seriousness of the pack. “I would like boundaries or more like… protocols,” you agreed.

“Protocols?” questions Taehyung. Being the most dominant of the Alphas in the pack, protocols are typically within his realm of declarations.

You nod, clarifying, “Yeah. Protocols, rules, or whatever you want to call them, but with certain situations.”

“Situations like this morning with Jimin-hyung?” pushes the tiger sitting before you.

“That is one of them, yeah. I would like to know what I am supposed to do when you guys want time together or when things get intense. Then there are the times, also like this morning, when I am getting up and need something or when I wa… or whatnot,” you elaborate before you sputter your words because you didn’t know how to ask for private time.

“Let’s start with that then,” Namjoon guides, letting your stumble slide for now. “We always want time together because we are bonded mates, Angel.”

“Joon-ah, she is talking about when we want to be more intimate,” Seokjin speaks up. “This morning, Jiminnie was trapping her in the nest, and I used more intimate means to get our cuddly panda to let go.”

“Oh, would this also be about times like when we kiss each other and flirt?” questions Jungkook.

By this time, your face blushes into a beautiful rose color, and you nod, “Yes, that. Those times. The times that should be privately held.”

Hoseok chuckles, “But we are in private, Doll. All those actions have happened within the packhouse, have they not?”

“Well… yes, they have, but I was there when two of you kissed in a sweet moment over the top of me, and then it was something heated and not so innocent with those two this morning,” you whine.

“What did you want to happen then, Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, his eyes slightly darkened with remembering your scent turning to arousal as you watched them.

“I wanted to,” you gulp. “I wanted to do what was comfortable for your mates. I don’t want to stay for something I shouldn’t be.”

“So, you wanted to stay?” Seokjin asks with a finality that makes the question almost irrelevant.

The slip-up in your wording, of course, gets caught before you can save yourself. All you can do is widen your eyes at this implication because that is precisely what you wanted to do, but you don’t want to say it because you don’t have that kind of relationship with them like that.

“Enough, guys,” Hoseok steps in and looks at Namjoon. “Prime Alpha, do you oppose Y/n being present when affection is shared between us?”

“I do not,” answers the wolf hybrid. “I think the pack would enjoy it if you stayed, Y/n.”

A mummer of agreement comes from the rest of the pack, causing your jaw to drop and for you to ask, “You want me to be there? Like ogling you as if you were in a movie?”

“You can watch or tell us what you want to see,” Jungkook says with a slightly rough voice.

“You can even move us how you want us,” suggests Taehyung. “It’s more fun when everyone present is involved anyways, isn’t it?”

You sputter at the thought, your mind throwing you back to this morning and the possibility that you could have joined in. You glance at the two cuddled on the couch. Seokjin has the small Alpha in his lap. You can see they are both thinking at the same time you are. Their eyes are equally dark as Seokjin raises his eyebrow at you. You know he is implying something, but you look away quickly.

Your eyes come to meet Namjoon, who seems to know something transpired between the three of you. He says, “Are you okay with this boundary, or do you want us to hide our intimacy behind doors?”

Frowning at his question, you take a moment. Do you want them to hide from you? You are in their pack house, and it is their one safe space to be a mate-bonded pack.

Did you want to take that freedom away from them?

“I don’t want to take your spontaneity away from you and make you stay behind closed doors. I am okay with those boundaries, but I want to reserve the ability to walk away without hurting anyone’s feelings,” you agree conditionally.

“I think we can accept that,” says Yoongi.

Nodding, you add, “It has been a while since I have been around such intimate gestures, and sometimes it becomes overwhelming for me– like the skinship thing.”

“Does that mean we can still get head scritches and cuddles?” asks Jungkook.

“What do you mean we? You are the only one who has gotten any of that,” whines Taehyung.

You giggle at the comment and join in, “The Tigger tiger has a point there, Thumper. You seemed to have found a fast pass to all of that.”

“Tigger? Did you just call me Tigger? After that stuffed toy thingy from the American Honey Bear cartoon?” Taehyung glares at you.

“What? Sorry. You reminded me of him when you came bouncing sleepily into my room yesterday with your hair all flouncy and bouncy,” you giggle more as the others join in.

“So, you have a Tigger, Thumper, and Kisa. When do the rest of us get nicknames?” asks Hoseok with a pout. “You are already my Doll.”

“Huh?” you look at him questioningly. “But Seokjin has called me a doll, too.”

“He did what?” Teacher Hoseok, who now you are figuring is more like Alpha Hope, slowly turns his head to the offending mate.

“It was an accident! I didn’t realize you had claimed Y/n as that,” pouts the eldest, acting more like the youngest. “I will only use Dear from now, I promise.”

“You better, hyung or not. We will talk later about you using the wrong claim,” says Hoseok.

“Sugar,” Jungkook pulls your attention to him. “We each have nicknames that we use with each other. Back when you went out with Seokjin-hyung, it was decided in private that we would each claim a nickname for you.”

“I take it your nickname for me is Sugar?” you question, and Jungkook confirms.

“I call you Princess. Hoseok is Doll with Seokjin now as Dear,” adds Yoongi.

“I call you Naekkeo,” says Jimin.

Taehyung grabs your ankles and pulls them back to his lap, “You are my Dove.”

You look to Namjoon, and he smiles, “You got named my Angel last night, Y/n.”

“Oh,” you nibble your lower lip. You are embarrassed but in a loving way, which you have never felt before. Pouting, you comment, “You all already have something picked out for me, but I haven’t figured one for all of you.”

“You don’t need to have them all picked out. They will come out eventually,” says Namjoon. “But back on topic, Taehyung wanted to talk to you about something of concern.”

Your eyes drop to the tiger, giving you a soft massage of your calves.

“Well, other than explaining how you slept with Jimin to the rest of the pack, why did you not wake me this morning when you got up? Again?” asks Taehyung.

You blush again for who knows how many times this meeting at Taehyung’s choice of wording before you respond saying, “Jimin can explain how he ended up in my bed… wait, that sounds just as bad as sleeping with him. We just had a sleepover, more or less.”

“As for you this morning, I told you that I wanted to let you get your sleep. I know how crazy your schedules can be, and I didn’t want to steal the extra time from you,” you answered.

“Y/n. You never need to be alone or let us sleep if you need something. For one, right now, I am at your service. For two, Yoongi-hyung is supposed to be helping because of your hand. For three, well, you shouldn’t hesitate to wake us, ask us questions, ask for something, or, heck, you could have even crawled into bed with one of us if you needed more sleep since you had two horn dogs in your nest.”

Shaking your head, smiling, “I wasn’t chased out of bed this morning. I left because I didn’t know what to do.”

Your eyes drop to your lap as you ponder how to word your next question. Not long before, a black tail goes under your chin, pulling you from your thoughts to look at Yoongi.

“What has you thinking so hard?” inquires the jaguar.

“If... If I were to want some private time, how would I go about that?” you ask, tentatively keeping eye contact with Yoongi. Your breath is just a hint more shallow than before.

“Private time?” asks Hoseok. “Mostly, we just close our den doors, but we never lock them in case of an emergency. I thought that was pretty obvious. Aren’t most households like that?”

Your blush deepens because Hoseok’s innocence shows, making you feel a bit pervy that you are asking what you are asking.

Yoongi is studying your face, eyes, and posture. He sees the micro changes in your expression, the emotions playing behind your eyes, and the subtle movement of your thighs as you ask your question and listen to Hoseok’s reply.

“Are you worried that we might… hear something, Princess?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

Your gulp alone is enough to answer his question. He smiles, saying, “Princess, you don’t need to worry about private times like that. It’s natural and healthy for you to have them, so it’s nothing to be shy about. We may be Alphas; we may be flirty– some of us more than others, and we may be hybrids with excellent hearing, but we won’t listen to you on purpose.”

“Jungkook does,” you whisper.

“Ah, no, he doesn’t,” comments Jungkook. “I only heard you mumbling rather loudly to yourself about something dealing with the sheet or pillow or something, which is why I sent your servant boy to you.”

Clearing his throat, Namjoon speaks up, “Y/n, we are all adults here. The quietest room in the pack house is the pack nesting room because it has soundproofing. With your den down here, hearing certain pitches would be more challenging. You would be safe in your den if you want to handle those urges alone.”

In Namjoon’s head and the rest of Bangtan, the images of you ‘handling’ those urges course through them. They couldn’t wait until the day, night, or afternoon when you wouldn’t feel the need to hide those sounds from them or when you would be making those sounds from under or on top of them, well, just anywhere as long as it was because of them.

A soft growl comes from Taehyung, who still massages your calf, and asks, “Dove, do you have what you need to deal with those– urges?”

Arousal shoots through your body at his question. Fuck is the first thing you can think. No, you don’t have things to help with that, and you were right-handed, but you weren’t thinking about actually doing anything inside the pack house.

Maybe.

However, when Taehyung asked that question, your lovely mind decided you had 70 fingers, seven mouths, and seven… yeah, no, you physically shake your head, trying to get the thoughts away. Your scent long gave away your train of thought to the hybrids surrounding you.

Jimin wriggled in Seokjin’s lap as he felt the eldest’s member start to harden, along with his own, in reaction to your scent, causing their pajama pants to feel too tight.

Taehyung’s grip tightened into a deeper massage on your calves.

Yoongi and Jungkook squirmed in their seats, glancing at each other with heat before focusing back on you.

Namjoon licked his lips as if he could taste your scent.

“Taehyung, that is not a question that I would think that Y/n is comfortable enough answering, nor does she have to,” Hoseok informs, giving you an out despite his desire to know just how you would want to handle yourself right now.

“Ah,” you gulp again, looking at Hoseok. “Thank you, Hoseok. I will figure it all out, Taehyung.”

With a slightly deeper push of Taehyung’s fingers against the inside of your ankle with one hand while the other pressed from the middle of the sole to the pad of your foot, causing an electric shock of pleasure to run from the base of your spine to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter at the feeling.

“Remember, if you need… anything… I can always help you out,” coys the tiger. “I give excellent massages and know all the right pressure points.”

You, slower than you will ever admit, pull yourself out of the hold he has on your foot as you glance around the living room, waiting for someone to protest Taehyung’s very blatant offer to help you sexually, but none comes.

Not trusting your voice, you nod and stand up, pointing to your room. Then you blanche and hope Taehyung doesn’t take it as if you are accepting the offer. Looking at Namjoon with a question-filled face, he smiles and nods, to which you, not so subtly, walk with haste and shut the door.

Fucking hell.

They mentioned that the Maknae line was the horny or flirty part of Bangtan, but this was…You said the youngest trio needed a bucket of ice water earlier, but maybe you were the one who needed the bucket.

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touchme-teezme · 4 months ago

Text

Last Pick.

PAIRING | collegeboy!mingi x fab!reader

TAGS | angst, smut, friends to lovers(?), p0rn with a plot with a cliffhanger (oopsie), lots of kissing, oral, reader was angry then h0rny…and then sad :( oh! and mingi’s lowkey a hoe

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors DNI!)

SONGS | Cherry Hill - Russ, That's why I love you - SiR & Sabrina Claudio & Do you like me? - Daniel Cesar

SUMMARY | you and mingi are best friends. he likes you, but you love him. one fight changes the trajectory of your friendship forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i didn't know if i wanted to write angst or smut... so here's both? a bonus fic to celebrate the hard (pun intended) launch of my blog! it’s a bit more dramatic than i’m used to but that’s what creative writing is for. i have a few other members in my drafts. i plan to update sometime this week. might just spam them idk. i've been in such a writing mojo lately; i think i just miss ateez haha. also if you’re new, english is not my first language so if i get some terminologies mixed up, sorry!! that's all, enjoy ya freaks.

+ 💌 click here to see my Love Interrupted series masterlist [ot8] — check out the other parts!

inspired by a quote from ‘save me an orange’ by hayley grace. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

It was getting late, and you were growing tired.

Mentally tired. You were tired of hearing the same stories, the same kind of complaining, and most of all, tired of pathetically waiting on the sidelines. You’ve been avoiding the truth for so long that you didn’t notice it consumed you.

You weren’t Mingi’s type. He liked their personalities, bright, funny, and effortlessly interesting. Feminine, sexy and confident. Girls that could lead and had interesting hobbies. Compared to his colourful dating history, you felt like you weren’t anything particularly special.

You finally accepted that tonight, while drinking on your balcony as you listened to how his tinder dates this month went. At the mention of the second girl (whose name you already forgot), you were already dying inside.

Before you thought it wouldn’t get any worse, he went off topic and started talking about his future and what he actually wanted.

He blurted out that he should just marry you if he was still single at 35, declaring he had officially given up on the shrinking dating pool.

He looked at you with a mix of admiration and bliss in his eyes. That stupid, goddamn part of your brain convinced you it could happen. He acknowledged that small 0.0001% possibility of you and him ending up together, so there was actually a chance you could actually be with him.

But reality sunk in and drowned you.

Song Mingi would never love you.

That’s when the little glimmer of hope you’d carried throughout your friendship shattered. The shards had cut you and hurt bled out.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You sighed.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m someone you could actually love.”

Mingi didn’t know what to say at first, but at least a hundred responses came to his mind.

His face (which usually said whatever he was thinking for him) settled into a look that screamed Where did THAT come from? for him.

That was enough to discourage you altogether. You let silence grow between you two, quietly finishing your last sip with nothing but the sounds of midnight Seoul traffic beneath you.

You set the glass bottle on the table and rose from your chair. “I’m going to bed. You can hang out here or just leave or whatever.”

Mingi took a few seconds to process the shift in mood before he ran after you inside. He thought you two were having some decent conversations, but he got ahead of himself like he usually does.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

You paused and turned around slowly. You were trying to carefully pick out the right words from what you were feeling.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“I know, that’s why I came. You weren’t really replying to me and San said he hasn’t heard from you. I…I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, you saw me. You can go.” You shrugged.

Mingi furrowed his eyebrows. “If this is about what I said about marrying you, I wasn’t serious. I know you don’t believe in marriage and—“

You let out a wry scoff, cutting his weak explanation short. You could’ve been mean, throw him out, laugh it off and say you were kidding. But you couldn’t ignore that feeling in your chest anymore.

With eyes shut, you murmured, “I hate how you make me feel sometimes.” and when you opened your eyes, they were already watery.

Mingi's face fell. "Hey, c’mon, I didn't mean to upset you."

He approached you delicately, his large hands encasing yours with a gentle touch. If he were to pull you in for one of his bear hugs, you might explode.

You quickly stepped back, creating distance between as you refused his hands. “That’s all you do lately. You don’t even realise half of the shit you say and how much it hurts to hear.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was now growing very concerned. “I thought we were friends.”

“Do friends make each other feel like they’re the last pick of the litter?”

Mingi's eyes widened. "Last pick? Hey, what is going on with you?"

You laughed, but it was devoid of humour. "Let me break this down for you. All I have been hearing about these days are your dates, your perfect girls, how you have no connection with them so you’re going to die alone and yet you’re still choosing to sleep with the entire city. Then you throw out this ridiculous idea of how you want to settle down eventually, and when you’ve had your fun, you would marry me. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

He looked taken aback. “But… what I said, that was a joke and—“

"A joke?!” Your voice rose. "My feelings are a joke to you? Do you have any idea how long I've been…”

You stopped yourself, your mouth hanging slightly open as you realised there was no point. You had no business convincing a man to want you.

Still, the volume and hurt in your voice stunned him into silence despite you not finishing your sentence.

"You know what? Just get out." You seemed firm and dismissive, yet your heart was breaking. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with just being your friend if this is how it’s going to be until you… decide to settle. You have to go."

Mingi stood there, shock and confusion written all over his face. "You don't mean that. Please, we can talk about this.”

"No, Mingi. Just leave," you insisted, your voice cracking as you further widened the space between you, your hands held up in surrender as you walked away. "I'm done."

Yet another awkward silence grew between you. For a moment, Mingi didn’t move. He just watched you slowly walk towards your closed bedroom door disappointed.

Then, as if something snapped inside him. He finally realized what this was about.

You had feelings for him.

You didn’t say it out loud, but it made sense and Mingi felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He crossed the distance between you in two quick strides, desperate to reach you. His hand grabbed your shoulder first, turning you around.

“No, we’re talking about this.”

“I have nothing else to say to you. Go fuck someone new on tinder and just leave me out of it.”

“Dude, come on this is not how we talk to each other.” He was getting way too close to you.

“I couldn’t give two shits about how we talk to each other when you’ve pissed me off. So now, you have to go.”

“You almost said it a minute ago. Tell me why the girls bother you, why what I said bother you. I need to hear it.” He demanded.

Okay, that pissed you off more than you already were. Your chest heaved with the intensity of your emotions, the words bubbling up from a place you had kept buried for too long.

“This is stupid,” You whispered, shaking your head as your eyes continued watering as your gaze pierced into his. “You’re stupid, and you make me feel stupid.”

“Say what you wanted to, and I’ll go, and we never have to speak again.”

“So that’s it? You want an ego boost? You wanna feel on top?!” You practically yelled in his face.

“If that’ll make you be fucking honest for once, it might be worth it!”

“You’re so pretentious. I can’t believe I ever stuck around this long!”

“Why did you then, huh? Tell me exactly why you did!”

His yelling echoed in your apartment. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you stared at his lips.

Fuck it.

You closed the final few inches of distance between you in a swift motion. Gripping onto his shirt, you pulled him towards you forcefully, crashing your lips onto his with all the built-up anger and frustration pouring out.

Mingi was completely caught off guard by the intensity of the kiss. But the second you tried to pull away, he grabbed you back in. His hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you against him as the kiss deepened.

He lifted one of your legs up to the sides of his hip as he pushed you up against the bedroom door, cushioning the impact with his palm on the back of your head. The heat between your legs was growing and rubbing against his crotch was making it worse.

Your hands were exploring his chest, his shoulders, his face and his hair. You finally gasped for air, tilting your head up which invited him to kiss down your chin to your neck.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you.” I whispered out, shaking your head. Baffled at how good of a kisser he was, but with how he was spending his weekends, it wasn’t exactly a mystery.

He bent down to hoist you up by your thighs, effortlessly wrapping them around his waist. With one of your arms snaked around his neck for support, the other reached behind to open the door.

“Hate me later.” He muttered, kissing you again as he carried you into your dark bedroom.

He laid you down, sandwiching you between his chest and your mattress. You could feel him getting hard through the tin fabric of his Adidas shorts.

He smelled so fucking good. His natural scent mixed with a hint of the cologne you got for him for his birthday made your imagination go wild. Your hands reached the hem of his shirt like an animal instinct, tempted to rip it off him if he didn’t take it off in the next few seconds.

He pulled up and tugged his shirt over his head when he noticed your neediness. In the faint light of the opened door behind him, you could see the outline of his toned body.

Soft streetlights from outside the window above the bed frame gently illuminated his face that looked down at you like you were a full course meal and he was starving.

You have found Mingi handsome since the first day you met. Hell, even he knew he was handsome but something about how he looked at that moment sent chills all throughout your body.

When he leaned back down over you, you couldn’t resist reaching out to his face to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing back and forth near the beauty mark on his face.

He took your hand gently, kissing the back of it. Guiding your hand to his chest, he let you trace your fingertips down his body.

You almost forgot why you were angry.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked, still sounding a little breathless from the escalation.

You looked up from your hand on his lower abdomen, “If you leave now I might actually kill you.”

almost.

He took in bottom lip with his teeth to hide an excited smile, before leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss. This time, he moved slower, savouring whatever was left of that cherry lip balm you had on. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You smiled into the next kiss. Typically you’re not supposed to enjoy having the tongue of the person you were just screaming at in your mouth, but you wanted it there for as long as possible. In fact, you wanted that tongue everywhere on you.

Mingi on the other hand was trying really hard to focus but he could literally feel your nipples through the t-shirt you still had on.

Why the fuck was it even still on, he had no idea.

He was now thinking about how you did not have a bra on the entire time he was hanging out at your house, wondering how often it had been happening without him realising.

You grabbed onto the sides of his hips, and groaned in his mouth. He flipped over, positioning you so you were centred on his hard cock. You readjusted your legs to straddle him comfortably, your arms crossing behind his neck for support as he was sitting up.

His hands found their way to your ass, squeezing it in encouragement as you started bucking your hips against him. Your nails scratching up his shoulders as you started to wonder if the rumours about his dick size were true — all while the friction was driving him insane with arousal.

He helped you take your baggy t-shirt over your head. Delighted that you weren’t wearing a bra, he even fixed your hair once it was off, carefully flipping it behind your shoulders. He slid a hand to the small of your bare back, stealing a quick glance at your face.

You were the prettiest girl he knew. He had told you that a few times, but stopped once he realised you were never going to believe him. He’d be lying if he said he was never attracted to you, he just could never find the courage to cross that line. He was afraid of losing you more than anyone else he’d ever met.

“What?” You simply asked.

Doe eyed, topless, in his arms. Mingi could’ve sworn he had a wet dream about this once. His eyes dipped to your chest without saying a word, and he buried his face there. You rolled your eyes, but inside you were screaming with joy.

He caught your left nipple between his swollen lips while he massaged the other in his free hand. You squirmed when you felt him nibble, and twist you like a personal bop it. You even felt the fucker smirk against your skin at your reaction.

Your hand moved to roughly grip on the hair on the back of his head and your back arched towards him, feeling his tongue licking on your chest in a circular motion.

His eyes looked up at you, as he sucked on your breasts sloppily and kneading them with his hand, admiring his view and the feeling it came with.

You felt the tip of his nose brush up across your collarbone to return to your neck. You were getting so wet, it’s a miracle you managed to restrain yourself from taking those eager hands of his and shoving them in your shorts.

“I-I’m still mad…a-at you.” You managed to choke out, shuddering from the tingling feeling of him sucking on a sweet spot you didn’t know you had.

“I know.” He groaned.

Your hand reached down to the rock solid boner you had been grinding up against. He took a sharp hiss of breath at your touch.

He flipped you over again before you could’ve tried to slip off his pants. He guided you a little higher on the bed and then sat up to pull your shorts and your underwear down in one firm swift motion.

With his hands gently on your knees, he parted your legs. “Fuck…” He whispered.

As you lay on the bed, propped up on your elbows, you were a little embarrassed that he was seeing that part of you at first, but the way his eyes looked into yours and raked down your body made you grow a little more confident in your skin.

“Are you gonna just stare?” You nodded your head at him.

“I’m taking my time because you have no idea how often I’ve thought of doing this to you.”

“Slut.”

Mingi cracked into a grin, his tongue cheekily running across his top teeth as he shook his head and took your leg over his shoulder. He pushed your other knee further out when he started to lean down, coming closer to your dripping cunt.

Took his time, he did.

He cherished every kiss, and the way his nose slid up and down against you made your breathing shaky. Your hands fondled your own tits that were still a little damp from his licks from earlier.

When he started basically making out with your clit, your head threw back and you couldn’t hold back your breathy moans. Your hips started to rock into his tongue.

“Who’s the slut now?” You heard him coo from under you. He watched you with fox-like eyes, keeping a vigilant gaze while you stimulated yourself and something about it made it ten times hotter.

“S-still you—Ah, Mingi!” Your head dropped onto the bed.

Your clit was swollen, and his fingers invited themselves between your folds before entering. There’s no way you could’ve held in that loud moan, or mask the look of absolute pure pleasure that contorted your face.

Something about how you were unravelling at the curl of his finger inside you, with your heel dug in lot his back and the sound of you moaning his name over and over had him excited for what’s to come.

Figuratively and literally.

Mingi’s dick had never been harder.

You reached for his hand that was gripping on your thigh to keep your legs parted. Your mouth dropped open as your eyes squeezed shut to feel the electrifying sensation throughout your entire body. His fingers and the upper inner part of your thighs were coated in your release.

Holy shit, Mingi actually made you cum. And he sucked and licked every last of it as you were riding it out.

He sucked on your clit one last time, giving a quick kiss goodbye before crawling up your body to meet your face.

His hand was beside your face as he tilted his head to the side. Mingi hovered over you and though you felt a bit dizzy, you managed to mirror the grin on his face.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Furious.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

As you sat up slowly, he started to retreat to reel you in with your faces mere inches apart. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him down to get onto his back.

Who knows when’s the next time you would ever to be able to do this? In the back of your head, you knew this was a heat of a moment kind of thing, eventhough it made you a little sad, you wanted to kiss him again and again.

And he was more than willing to entertain it.

You could taste yourself off his lips. The dirtiness of it all made it hotter. His nails running up and down the side of your thigh as your chest pressed against his.

You moved down, planting little kisses down his gorgeous physique, you hands gripping on his sides as he watched. His hand reached out stroking the top of your head.

This had to be a dream.

You looked up when you reached the drawstring of the shorts he had on.

“Okay, okay, just be gentle,” He asked softly. “I’m a little… uh…”

With your teeth, you undid the little bow and tug his shorts down. Rumour confirmed: he was huge. Girthy, long, with cum already dripping down its sides from tip.

You thought you were seeing things wrongly so your hand reached out to hold it by the base and stroked up.

“Needy?” You teased.

Mingi’s brain electrocuted for a second, unsure if it was the tone or your hands. He flinched, “S-shit, baby, I’m really… hold on—“

You leaned forward, wrapping your hand comfortably around the base as you started to return the treatment he just gave you — tenfold. Mingi’s flustered face transformed into a look of pure satisfaction.

The way you licked, kissed, and sucked all over his shaft, he’d float if he could. The lewd noises you were making made him hiss, bitting in his lower lip as he watched from above.

“S-shit you’re doing so good.” He managed to say, leaning over to comb back your hair in his hands as you steadied your pace.

When his tip scratched the back of your throat, he was done for. You almost ended up choking on the cum that bursted out of his wet hard cock that pooled warm in your mouth, and swallowed.

The noise he made was unlike anything you’d ever heard in your decade long friendship, and it was the best he’d ever felt out of all his past experiences.

But that wasn’t why he had to take a breather. He realised how wrong he’d been doing you. Knowing how you felt about him, and how he’s been treating you made him wonder if he even deserved to see you this way.

He moved in behind you, gently guiding your face toward his for a soft, sweet kiss that made you smile. He trailed playful kisses along the side of your face as your hand caressed his. His large hands traced lightly over your waist.

If foreplay was this good already, he could only imagine how mind boggling actually fucking you would be. But he seemed to enjoy finally being able to shamelessly kiss you and touch you wherever he wanted more though.

You, however, had a different thought. The lines of your friendship were already blurred. Being with him like this had been a fantasy, but now you were stepping into uncharted territory, where everything about your relationship with him might change — if it hadn’t already.

That’s when reality hit, your smile fading. You needed a moment to pull back.

He started slowing down when he noticed you or your body weren’t really responding to him anymore.

It hit you like a cold splash of reality—his stories of conquests, the way he casually shared tales of his past flings, and how effortlessly he moved on from each one.

“Hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

In that moment, you realized you were just another number on his hit list, a fleeting moment in his game, and the weight of that truth settled heavily in your chest, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

Even with his own doubts, Mingi was still ready to take things further right then and there, but seeing that look — the one you make when you have a lot on your mind — he couldn’t bring himself to continue.

His hand reached out, caressing the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear in comfort, “We don’t have to, you know.”

You nodded, “I know. I’m sorry, I just… I’m thinking a lot right now.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He smiled at you, shaking his head in reassurance before closing in to kiss the side of your head.

He shifted on the bed, pulling you into an embrace and brought you close to him under the sheets.

You’ve shared this bed several times over the years, but never this intimately, without a pillow barrier or clothes on. This easily felt very new to both of you, yet still comfortable enough.

As you cuddled facing eachother, you turned to the ceiling as your thoughts began to swirl. You had settled the argument from earlier with your bodies, but the confusion in your heart still remained.

“Are you okay?” Mingi finally asked, concern in his eyes as you took your time to answer.

“Yeah, just…” The room felt colder, smaller, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes as you turned to look at him. “I don’t want to be like the others. I don’t want us to end up being… nothing.”

“You’re not like the others,” Mingi said softly, turning to face you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m serious. I’m sorry for the stupid things I said. You are… you’re everything to me. You’re it, and—”

You’d heard it all before. You knew his usual pretty words for his pretty girls thanks to his stories but what you didn’t know was how he actually meant what he said this time.

“Look, Mingi…I just can’t do the whole friends-with-benefits thing. I can’t just stay friends after this. I need you all in if you’re going to be in my life.” Your voice trembled, and each word felt like a struggle. This boy had a grip on your heart that made the thought of losing him hurt. “If you can’t do that, you really need to go tomorrow morning, okay?”

He took a moment to let your words sink in, the silence stretching between you. Then, quietly, he leaned in and kissed you—a soft, gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his skin soothed you in the cool air as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

#ateez smut #ateez #reader x mingi #song mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #atz x reader #atz smut #atz fanfic #atiny #one shot

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dartmoor26player · 6 days ago

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Day 7

#power plant #master kush #orange hill special

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g1rld1ary · 8 months ago

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lifeguard!James Potter but its just him shamelessly flirting with reader whilst she stands there stunned.

lifeguard!james potter x reader 4

wc: 1874

cw: horny again

anon i love you ur a genius. this kinda ran away from me lol but i will def be using this again so look out for future parts of flustered r if this isn't quite what u meant!!

the next time you saw james wasn't for a few days. there'd been a few days of colder wind coming from the north -- not enough to be cold necessarily, but unpleasant enough you didn't particularly fancy sitting by the pool.

after two days of mediocre, sunless weather, a real storm came in. rain beating down from the time you woke up, you spent breakfast pondering how to spend the day. you didn't particularly want to spend the whole day rotting away in bed doing nothing and so called up marlene, begging her to pick you up in her parent's car to drive everyone to the shopping village. she was easy to convince, and soon enough you were all packed into the much too small car, singing loudly to the songs on the radio.

the village wasn't anything special, most of the stores were uninteresting, but it was all undercover which was ideal for a rainy day.

the group of you had already wasted an hour in the oxfam, trying on the most ridiculous outfits you could put together. sirius had even managed to turn a truly hideous cheetah print belt into something that looked honestly cool on him, much to the annoyance of everyone else. he tended to do that, though, it meant you had to work even harder to give him awful clothing items. the only one he truly couldn't pull off was a horrendous orange hand-knitted cardigan.

that easily became boring though, and you could tell the cashier was getting annoyed that clearly none of you intended to buy anything. so you left, wandering aimlessly until lily pulled you all into the bookstore. it was warm inside so no one put up much of a fight, splitting up to find their preferred genre. peter went to the historical fiction, lily to literary fiction, remus dragged sirius with him to the classics, marlene to science fiction and mary to fantasy. that left you to wander over to the romances. you weren't much of a reader, preferring the lighter subjects to lily's more serious.

finding the brightly coloured covers you began browsing before catching a glimpse of a mop of dark curls over the next shelf and narrowed your eyes suspiciously. there was no way...

"are you following me?" you asked, no edge in your tone. james looked up with a start, breaking into one of his golden retriever smiles.

"you're the one approaching me," he said, closing the book he'd been checking out.

"touché." you grinned, looking around for the first time to observe what section you were in -- plays. "i didn't know you were a shakespeare nerd under all that muscle. doesn't seem fair you get brains and brawn."

"graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." james looked much too pleased with himself and his shakespeare quotes, and you couldn't deny it was having some effect on your own 'pleasant fountain'. you stammered for a moment, lost for a response. no boy had ever quoted shakespeare to you before, and certainly not of such explicit content. truthfully, you didn't realise the world's most revered playwright wrote like that.

"what's that from?" you asked, desperate to get away from his innuendos before you did something you'd regret. plus, you really were curious, the only shakespeare you knew was from when you studied romeo and juliet in year nine and clearly that was becoming insufficient.

"venus and adonis, one of his poems. doesn't continue as happily, but i thought the line was nice enough."

"yeah," you managed through gritted teeth, "really nice." james only laughed at you, evidently enjoying having the upper hand in your banter. it was a testament to his goodness, though, that he didn't continue to hold it against you. instead, he settled down, going back to browsing and letting you hover next to him, answering whatever questions you had about the plays patiently. it was nice, you realised, looking over at him fondly before you caught yourself. you barely knew james, and just because he was a pretty face and a decent brain didn't mean you had to go boy crazy.

you stayed there for what felt like ages, quietly looking at the books until sirius came strutting around the corner.

"since when have you ever read a play in your life -- oh," he said, catching sight of james next to you. "who's this?" you could have sworn sirius gave him a flirty once over, but maybe you were just projecting.

"this is--"

"james," he finished, sticking out an enthusiastic hand. sirius raised an eyebrow, a flicker of recognition in his eye that made your stomach drop.

"james the lifeguard? the one you thought was, and i quote, 'hotter than robert plant i swear to god' and who you would 'pay to suck his dick'? nice to meet you mate!" you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole as the boys shook hands, james looking significantly more confused than sirius (though not displeased).

"i hope you sleep with one eye open, black," you muttered, trying desperately not to make eye contact with either or let your blush show. you had an inkling you were failing.

"so james, you doing anything today?" sirius asked, and you could only feel the dread spreading throughout your body. james shook his head, quickly slotting the book he was holding back onto the shelf. when sirius invited him to spend the rest of the day with your friends your body had a physical reaction, an embarrassing half-flinch-half-jump that had both boys laughing at you.

you all reconvened outside the bookshop, only a few new books bought between you all. james had been introduced to remus and peter and the girls were all pleased to see him. it seemed like it was only you who was flustered, which seemed to be more common each time you saw him. you missed the first time you spoke when you had all the power.

sirius was the one who dragged you all to the record store, begging to check out their new stock.

"you know," james said as the two of you fell behind, "if you wanted to suck my dick you could've just asked, no payment required." this had to be the worst day of your life. you couldn't bear to look at james, already knowing the shit-eating grin you'd be met with.

"shut up," you mumbled weakly, "sirius is a dreadful dramatic."

he thankfully gave you a bit of a rest in the record store, taking the opportunity to talk to the boys as they perused the albums on offer. you definitely heard james and remus bonding over a love of bowie (not that it was a particularly niche interest) which made you smile.

while you were sure peter was being kind to james to his face, every time he turned away to look at something peter was quick to tease you, fanning his face like james was a supermodel or imitating a crude makeout. you responded with a firm middle finger, but it held no effect.

"i love that album," you said, pointing at the one james had picked up. it was bruce springsteen's born to run, a record you played in your room on repeat.

"i'm stupidly uneducated, i think i've only heard the singles. maybe we can listen to it together sometime, you can teach me his ways." you grinned, honest james was much easier to handle than flirty james.

"only if you're ready to listen to me fantasise about bruce," you said, "his eyes really do something for me."

"i have eyes," james said, pulling a giggle from both you and mary.

"guess so." it wasn't one of his better attempts at flirting, but it still drew a smile from you, so james didn't look too upset.

you didn't really talk to him again until you'd retired to the food court, all desperate for lunch. sirius had made sure you two were seated together, and you were suspicious of how much of a matchmaker he was being. you only wanted to jump his bones, you weren't looking to get married.

you'd just told an impeccable pun -- you knew it was good as the whole table began berating you -- and had caught james' eye by accident. he'd smiled at you in his lopsided way and rolled his eyes light-heartedly.

"i didn't picture you to have such terrible taste in jokes," he said, and you exaggerated a frown.

"and yet you're still talking to me," you countered, "so what does that say about you?"

"that i'm lucky." your mouth dropped open without your brain consenting. james had well and truly caught you off guard, an irritatingly perfect combination of earnestness and shameless flirting all rolled into one. you could feel yourself floundering, mouth opening and closing as you searched for anything to say. james was clearly enjoying his victory, cocky grin on display for anyone to witness. you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, flushed with embarrassment (and lust) and not a single inkling of thought in your head.

you'd ended up on james' lap. it started with marlene offering james a lift home, not wanting to leave him walking in the rain. that led to the realisation you had far too many friends for seats; five available in the car and eight people. sirius had dibs-d remus' lap before the rest of you had even caught up to his train of thought, and lily and mary teamed up together shortly after. you were consequently assigned to james by the others, marlene obviously driving and peter refusing to even take part. you had sympathy for james, only an hour or two into meeting half the group and already pushed into doing their bidding because of remus' easy "you don't mind, do you, mate?"

and so you were sitting on his lap, not uncomfortable but definitely nervous. you'd imagined your first time being in his lap being slightly more sexy and autonomous.

"i'm not too heavy, am i?" you asked, hating how insecure you sounded. james just laughed softly.

"weren't you the one pining after my muscles? have a little faith in me!" james was unbelievably confident today, even more so than you remember him being in your previous meetings. you were the opposite, never having felt so meek around him.

you figured you couldn't be the only one experiencing the torture and so rolled the window down, pushing your upper half out and into the wind, laughing as you felt the rain on your skin. whilst enjoyable for yourself, it also required you to shift your position on james' lap and stretch out your torso, giving james a good view of your bra from under your sloppily done, homemade crop top. the combination was clearly effective if the development in his crotch was anything to go off. plus the way he held your hips to keep you concealing his little problem was telling you all you needed to know. another little wiggle from you and his grip tightened to almost bruising, but far from unpleasant. maybe james could flirt, but you had tricks you weren't above using.

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #fluff #james potter #james potter x y/n #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #dead gay wizards #james potter fluff #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #lifeguard!james #lifeguard james #lifeguard!james potter #harry potter

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hakkkuu · 17 days ago

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Hiii pretty omg i love you’re writing you are so creative and talented 💖. I have been unable to stop wondering abt first kisses with riize. What do u think it’d be like?

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚RIIZE : First Kiss˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Shotaro

You and Shotaro had been best friends for years, always joking around and sharing your dreams. One evening, you found yourselves under a canopy of stars during a quiet walk. As you both laughed over an inside joke, he suddenly grew quiet, his cheeks flushing.

"I… uh… have something I've been wanting to do," he stammered, his gaze shifting between you and the sky. Before you could ask, he leaned in, gently brushing his lips against yours. It was sweet and shy, with his hands fidgeting nervously even as he smiled after. "I hope that was okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Eunseok

Eunseok had an aura of quiet confidence that always left you a little flustered. One evening, after a particularly long practice session, he invited you to sit by the practice room window, watching the city lights together.

"You’ve been my inspiration lately," he admitted, his voice low and sincere. He turned to you, his gaze intense but warm. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his kiss slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. When he pulled away, he smiled softly. "I think I’m even more inspired now."

Sungchan

Sungchan was always the one who made you feel special, whether it was through playful teasing or thoughtful gestures. After an exciting day at the amusement park, you found yourselves at the top of the Ferris wheel, the lights of the city twinkling below.

"You’ve got something here," he said, reaching out to brush an imaginary speck off your cheek. The playful glint in his eye softened as he held your gaze. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that made your heart race. When the ride ended, he grinned, "Best part of the day, hands down."

Wonbin

Wonbin was your partner in crime, always dragging you into adventures and mischief. After a day of exploring hidden trails, you both ended up sitting on a hill overlooking the sunset. As the sky turned shades of pink and orange, he nudged you playfully.

"You know, you’re kinda stealing my view," he joked, his eyes fixed on you instead of the sunset. Before you could retort, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was playful yet deeply heartfelt. Pulling back, he grinned, "Guess I don’t mind the distraction."

Seunghan

Seunghan had always been a romantic at heart, writing little notes or surprising you with flowers. One rainy afternoon, he pulled you into a quiet bookstore to escape the weather. Among the rows of novels, he turned to you with a soft smile.

"Do you ever feel like some moments are straight out of a romance story?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours with a mix of nervousness and passion. The rain outside became a distant sound as the warmth of his kiss enveloped you both.

Sohee

Sohee had a knack for making ordinary moments feel magical. One lazy afternoon, as you were both sprawled out on the floor of his living room, he suddenly turned to you with a mischievous grin.

"Do you ever wonder how some things just feel… right?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. Before you could answer, he closed the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was tender yet full of unspoken emotions. When he pulled back, he chuckled, "Yeah, this feels pretty right."

Anton

Anton had always been the mysterious one, keeping his emotions close to the chest. That’s why it surprised you when he invited you to a quiet café after hours, just the two of you. As you sipped your drinks, the conversation drifted from casual topics to the deeper things you loved about each other.

When you admitted how much he meant to you, he smirked, leaning closer across the table. "You know I’ve been waiting for you to say that," he teased. Then, with deliberate confidence, he tilted your chin up, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both electric and tender. His hand lingered on yours, grounding you in the moment.

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sweptawayghost · 6 months ago

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In Dreams Pt.1

PAIRING: Joel Miller X Reader

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Joel Miller is down bad for the first time in a long time. After him and Ellie arrive and settle into life in Jackson, Joel is itching to get out. He becomes your patrol partner but he could be so much more if you give him the chance.

Hello!!!

This is my first time writing any kind of fan fiction so please be nice. I'm a huge fan of The Last Of Us and a major Joel Miller apologist. God, I love that man. Lots of Joel's inner thoughts. NO USE OF Y/N. W/c 4.1K

Anyway, I wanted to write a series and I had a hard time laying the groundwork but baby I got dirty things brewing. No warnings for this one but I will mention any trigger points in the future. Anything Written like this {Italic} indicated Joel's inner thoughts

CHAPTER WARNING: Mention of male masturbation, mentions of alcohol, Age gap

Joel Miller was down bad.

He found himself wondering how far too many times. He was sure he'd sworn off love and romance but then there you were. With your toothy grins and your warm palms. Eyes that made him feel safe and seen.

Your laugh filled his ears and swelled his heart. He would do anything to be in the same room as you, he would move where you move, he would go where you go, He could listen to you talk about anything and nothing as long as you kept looking at him and laughing at his jokes.

He wishes he could tell you right now how badly he wanted you. He wishes he could let you know how important you were to him, how he would move mountains if it would make you smile.

He hoped you would see how much Ellie loved you.

Joel saw the spark return to her eyes thanks to you. He loved that you cared about her so much, as if she was the most precious and fragile thing in the world.

How you fed her, brushed her hair for her. You happily opened your home to her when you knew Joel would be gone for a night or so just to make sure she wouldn't be alone.

There were just certain things that Joel couldn't provide for Ellie. But He knew you could. He wanted you to be in her life regardless of how he felt for you and how you felt for him. How do you feel about me?

///

He sat with Tommy in the Tipsy Bison one fall afternoon, the sun was sinking down behind the hills, the cool breeze whipped and swerved around the town centre. The Trees with their many hues of orange hung lazily ready to be whisked away.

The town prepared for the cold months that were to come, fixing and unblocked gutters, salted and jerked meats, pickled and preserved anything they could. prepared the garden beds in the greenhouses for new crops to come, pulling weeds and turning soil. It didn't feel rushed or urgent, it felt like a normal town, on a normal day, in a normal world.

Joel and Ellie had all but settled into Jackson by now, not like they had a lot to unpack when they arrived. He remembers one of the first nights they had come back. The feeling of the hot water on his skin made him want to cry. He had a chance to wash away all the blood, all the grime, the sweat, the shame, the guilt, the tightness in his chest and the pain in his heart.

Tommy had handed him a large crate when they arrived. Soaps, toothbrushes and toothpaste, Conditioner and shampoo in solid bars, lip balms, razors. Simple items that were worth more than gold. Most of the items were handmade and imperfect in shape which made them seem even more special. Someone made this for you.

There were also a number of clothing items given to them, shirts, pants, socks and underwear, jackets, even a few dresses that Ellie all but discarded in the back of her wardrobe.

It felt odd to be given so much when he had taken so much.

Stop thinking about it.

he wanted to make himself useful, he didn't want to sit still anymore, he wanted to move, to distract his mind. He started to worry about what Jackson would do to him in the long run. Would it take off his edge that kept him and Ellie alive all this time? What would happen if it burnt to the ground? He didn't want to put Ellie through anything more than she had already had to endure.

He felt naked without his pistol glued to his hip, exposed, vulnerable. He wasn't used to people smiling at him on the streets, raising an arm to wave or finding cooked meals or small gifts on his front door step. Those first few weeks were a lot to adjust to. He wondered how Ellie was handling it. She seemed closed off and quiet. She's worried about fitting in. Joel thought to himself. Teenage girls are still teenage girls after all.

///

“So your patrol partner…” Tommy sat looking from his glass across the table at his older brother “ you’ll like her, she's a bit rough around the edges at first but she's got a good head on her. She just weary of people '' Tommy spoke with a small smile on his lips but drew his eyes back to his glass. As if thinking back on you with fond memories.

Tommy had taken Joel out for the first few weeks. He had learnt the ropes quickly, to be honest there wasn't much to get, it was straight forward and it was what Joel was good at. He knew the job wasn’t for everyone but he knew he was damn near built for it.

He wasn't particularly worried about getting a new partner, he and his brother worked well together. The communication was little but clear, a nod of the head, a knowledge of the others limits, no need to make small talk and comfortable silences.but damn did Tommy know how to get on Joel's nerves.

He was more worried about whether his partner would crumble under pressure. If they would make stupid moves and get one or both of them killed. What would happen to Ellie?

“Is that your subtle way of tellin’ me she a bitch?” He raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“Some would say” is the only reply he was offered

Some would say.

But Tommy wouldn't. Good sign.

“She aint real good at small talk either” Tommy mumbled from the rim of his glass before he sipped back the amber liquid.

“She’s good quality” a smile hung from his lips “she’ll just say some shit that’ll catch you off guard”

///

He woke up with a tightness in his chest. Like he does most mornings. As the soft glow from his window floods his room he stills the thumping in his chest, rubbing small circles to alleviate the ache.

He sits up and lets reality wash over him. It's okay.

It feels wrong to feel safe.

He went about his normal routine he had set up for himself, any distraction from the nightmare he awoke from. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. Coffee was a non negotiable, even the instant stuff was doing it for him these days. He slowly opened the front door, ultra aware of the creaks of the old home he now called his. He found himself thinking about the family who lived there before him. Stop

Stepping onto the front porch with socked feet. He let the steam of the coffee swirl around his face as he inhaled the chilled morning air. Seeing the street lights glow softly as the morning creeps over the hills. Jacksons main street was a few blocks over and he could hear soft murmuring of people start to make their way into the mess hall for breakfast before starting their daily assignments. It reminded him of before.

He could almost imagine that the last 20 years were just a really bad, really vivid dream.

The sounds of a neighbourhood waking up to begin their day. The sound of gravel crunching in the distance, a soft yell from the other side of main street, the sound of his neighbours walking around the upper level of their home. All once familiar sounds to Joel. All sounds that now feel alien.

He let his chin drop to his chest and began slowly moving it from side to side to relieve some tension, noticing a large hole in one of his woollen socks right at the big toe. The padding on the heel is also threatening to split open any day now.

Moments like this were scary for Joel. moments of silence. Moments when he could let his mind wander because he didn't have urgency at his back, he wasn't being chased down the street by a horde of infected or being shot at by a group of raiders, he wasn't doing supply run with the threat of a QZ guard blowing his head off if he got caught and he wasn't lying in the woods wide awake all night to make sure Ellie was safe as she slept a few feet away from him.

No. Joel Miller, for the first time in a long time, was safe.

His attention snapped up quickly when he heard a slam a few doors up from him. He let the goosebumps run down his spine as the thought faded from his mind.

///

When Joel arrived at the gates of Jackson to meet his patrol partner he wasn't expecting… Well, you. You greeted him with a simple nod of your head and handed him the reins of a horse. He looked down at your extended hand, small cuts and scrapes that covered your skin, they looked soft but worked. He grabbed the reins from you and let his eyes jump to yours.

In the low morning light, your face serious but soft, your eyes beamed up at him. You were younger than him, a hell of a lot younger, that much he could see. He wondered what you'd be like out there. What kind of person is he stuck with for the next few hours? Would you run at the first sign of trouble? Or worse, someone who wouldnt shut the fuck up and would rather spew bullshit then sit with the silence.

“You a decent shot?” His voice came out low almost like a whisper, all thick with sleep that still lingered in his lungs.

You gave a small huff as you turned to mount your horse and only looked at him, without saying a word.

You made him a little nervous. This he could admit to himself. He couldnt put his finger on it right away but as you continued on your patrol that day he started to work it out. You had already checked out the weapons and saddled the horses before he reached the gates that morning, You had taken the lead on the trails, you didn't offer him your hand or even said hello for that matter, You hadn't spoken a word to him full stop. Did you think you were too good to talk to him or give him the time of day? Did you think he was incapable or stupid?

Incapable. Useless. Ineffective. No, surely not. You were just some girl, what did you know about me?

As these thoughts swamped his brain he became overly aware of every move he made, any noise he made, he felt like he was under a microscope with you.

Every now and again he would feel you looking at him as you slowed to ride beside him, he tried to catch your eyes. It made him sweaty, uncomfortable and restless. Why are you so nervous? Why do you care if she likes you or not? you're working together not getting married.

Neither of you had made an attempt at small talk. He didn't even know your name until you had been out for several hours and that was only because communication was mandatory at that moment.

“Im Joel by the way” He offered you. The response you gave was only a look that said yeah I know dumb ass

That was the last time he tried to talk to you. You made him feel small and like his presence was unnecessary. He was meant to be the stoic one, the quiet one, the protector, the one who takes the lead, not some girl 30 years younger than him.

Tommy had been right, you had a good head on your shoulders and while your silence unsettled him to a degree he did feel safe, you weren't distracted and you weren't distracting him. Right?

He didn't like being the one on the outs as much as he would protest that he didn't care and didn't need people to like him. For some reason he wanted you to like him. He wanted you to talk to him at least.

The rest of the patrol was uneventful. You were good, he did what he could although he just felt like a supporting act to you. An odd feeling stirred in his gut when he looked at you. Everytme he let his eyes wander over your form he noticed small details.

Your cheeks were flushed as the cold afternoon wind whipped past you. You were swimming in the sweater you wore, small mended patches where you had repaired holes in the ageing fabric. The way you would adjust your backpack periodically, cracking your back in the process.He liked the way you smelt when you walked close to him or when the wind changed in his direction. Small things. He wondered what you would notice about him.

You still held a stony expression as you approached the gates of jackson. While he felt relieved to get out of your presence he also wanted to look at you more. He wished he could pause you just to study your expression.

You held your expression when you looked up at him. He looked back blankly at you before he noticed you had extended your hand out in front of you towards him. He glanced down at your hand and then back to your face, he shot you a confused look.

“The horse” you gesture with your eyebrows and a small tilt of your head towards the reins that he still held.

“Unless you wanna hold hands” you said with a small smile on your face. She smiled at you

He handed the softened leather rein to you, he looked back at you and returned a lazy grin. You turned and began to walk towards the stables with a horse on either side.

“Do you need help getting back or do you think you've got it under control?” you asked him with a slight turn of your shoulder.

“Im good” was all he could muster with a small crack in his voice.

But that didn't matter because you smiled at him.

Joel thought about you as he walked back to the Bison, he couldn't stop the way his lips curled at the corners as he walked, Kicking up dirt and rocks as he went, hands in his pockets and head hung low. He thought about the flutter of your lashes. He thought about the strands of hair that fell in your face when you bent over. He thought about the way the strap of your rifle hugged your shoulder. He thought about the hushed tone of your voice when you spoke to him. He thought about the way you looked at him over your shoulder and the way your cheeks flushed when you caught his eyes already on you.

///

“How was it?” Tommy had asked him as he honed in on the bowl of stew, he held it close to his chest as if someone would swipe it from him if he didnt.

“It was fine” was the only reply Joel was willing to give. She makes me feel like she doesn't need me.

Tommy raised his eyes from his meal to peer at his brother. He rested the bowl in his hands down on the table.

“Really? Just fine” He said it like he was digging for more.

“Nothing interesting happen that you wanna tell me about?” Joel only raised an eyebrow in place of a reply.

“Yeah Tommy we had so much fun, we sang songs and picked flowers and braided each other's hair” Joel spat at him with annoyance.

“No, nothing interesting happened” Tommy’s expression didn’t change at Joel's words, he had a lopsided grin glued to his face.

“It's just that you haven't whipped that smirk off your face since you walked in”

“Fuck off”

When Joel woke up the next morning he didn't feel as tired as he usually does, his back didn't feel as ache as it normally did and tightness in his chest felt lighter than most days. His mind felt quieter than usual. The normal shouting and screaming was dulled by miles of distance.

He chalked it up to having something to occupy his time, keeping him busy so his brain had less time to spiral. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. He got his coffee and returned to his place on the porch once again, he absorbed the sounds, the smells, the houses around his own, the sharp feeling of the cold morning on his skin. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. He could hear music, the crunch of stone, the shower running from inside the house, the neighbour walking around the second floor.

“Morning Miller” the sound of your voice pulling him out of his daydream, He opened his eyes to see you standing at the foot of his porch.

“You busy today?”

///

That was the first time you had taken Joel out on a non official patrol. He remembers the sun beaming down on his back and sweat beads forming in his hairline as you walked side by side along the overgrown trail. The pack on his back felt lighter today, The weight of the gun on his shoulder was eased and the throbbing in his feet was a faded tickle.

He liked walking beside you. He liked the way your hair fell. He liked the way you smelt. He liked to watch the smile grow on your face when you looked at him. He liked the way you looked at him.

“ Why invite me out today?” he asked “given how talkative you were yesterday”

You laughed and looked up at him. He wondered if he mistook your seriousness for dislike.

You let your eyes fall back to the trail. Some of the behaviours Joel noticed yesterday returned, you adjusted your backpack and he heard the snap of your spine in the process.

“I'm sorry about that” You winced when you spoke, your eyes lifting slightly from the trail to gauge your next move and secure your footing "In a world where women like me are beaten down, stolen away, used and left for dead…” Joel peered down at you when you stopped, you refused to meet his gaze as you spoke “I want people to see me as a threat before they see me as anything else"

Fuck

///

Once you arrived back in Jackson you had asked him to walk you home. The idea of spending more time with you made his heart jump and even with the ache in his back returning and a throbbing pain in his knee, he would walk to the other side of the country with you if you asked.

He followed you up your porch stairs taking in the exterior of your home. It was small, the front steps bowed from years of pressure and use. The paint on the weather boards peeling and faded with time. The elements had not been kind to a lot of the homes in Jackson, Joel had spent a lot of time looking around his own home and thinking of all the things he would do if he had the resources. It didn't stop at his own and soon he was imagining renovating half the town.

Your front wire door looked like it was hanging on by a thread and one of the gutters that ran down the side of your home was all but rusted out.

He stopped when he reached the top step and watched you shove the front door open with your shoulder. You dropped your bag to the left of the door and kicked your boots off to the right. He watched you disappear into the house, he could still hear your voice as he approached the front door, not stepping over the threshold but he wanted to get a glance at your home, it was almost like eavesdropping on a secret or reading someone's diary.

You didn't invite him in but you also didn't tell him not to come in. I'm just looking.

Old books sprayed out on the ground near the fireplace, balls of yarn and half finished projects laid out on the daybed in the corner of the room. The whole room was lit up in a soft yellow glow from the afternoon sun, it looked like a home, it looked warm and inviting. He could imagine you sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped up around your shoulders, half asleep with a book in your hand or laid out next to the fire, the peaks of your face highlighted in the soft glow of the flames.

“What are you smiling about?” you asked looking up at where he stood in the door jam.

“Just lookin” he replied. He felt his palms go sweaty as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't have.

He looked down at the item you had extended out towards him. You were holding a bottle, the label all but worn off from age and water damage. The seal on the top had been broken and the lid had dents and scratches on it. It looked like it had been used before and once opened used again and again. Take the bottle you moron.

“Thank you” He said as he reached for the bottle “its real nice of you”

Joel didn't know it at the time but this would be the first of many gifts you would bestow upon him and Ellie. The next thing you would do would be mending his clothes including the socks he was currently wearing.

After that you would be lending him tools and teaching Ellie how to sew ‘a skill that everyone should know’ you would tell her.

He would come over in the coming days and clean out your gutters before the weather turned and sunny clear days would be consumed by grey skies and rain. He would rip out rotten floor boards on your front porch and replace rusty nails. You would bring him home made meals or fresh bread to which he would invite you in and you would accept without a second thought. He loved how at home you seemed kicking off your shoes and leaving them next to his, throwing your jacket on the back of his couch or hanging it over his.

He didn't know it now but soon he would be showing you chords on the guitar and swapping books with you. He would be following you out for more non official patrols, sometimes for days at a time, looking for supplies in dilapidated barns and old properties that have been lost to the elements. He would be coming over to your house to drag Ellie home when she was trying to avoid doing homework.

“You need me to help you get home?” a bashful smile laced your face, Joel couldn't tell if you were just flushed from the warmth of your home or if you were blushing. You brushed past him in the doorway and raised your arm with a pointed finger past his shoulder down the street.

Joel’s eyes followed your finger down the street. Seven houses were all that separated you, seven houses and across the street.

“See you neighbour”

As Joel walked home he couldn't drop the stupid smile that hung from his lips. He slowed his steps as he walked, observing the bottle in his hand as he went. People started returning from assignments to rejoin their families, others turning straight for the Bison in favour of a drink. He listened to distant sounds of children laughing and playing in the streets. The sounds of a neighbourhood filled the air but all Joel could think about was the smile you gave him and the way you looked at him.

///

That was the first night that Joel dreamt about you. It was the first night you pulled him out of a bad dream and you didn't even know it. It was the first night that he went to sleep with your face glued to the back of his eyelids. When he woke up in the middle of the night you were the first thing on his mind. When he closed his eyes and pulled his cock out of his boxers and started jerking himself off he saw your face. What are you doing Joel? He saw your smile and the strands of hair that stick to your forehead. He pictured you laid out by your fireplace with his lips pressed to your neck as you moaned his name.

Just once, get it out of your system. She’s attractive, I'm only human. It's fine.

“Just once” he whispered to himself in the silence of his room.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #soft joel miller #Joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #oel miller #Pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel tlou #smut #dad joel miller #joel fanfic #idiots in love

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writeforfandoms · 2 years ago

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Howlin’ For You

Find my CoD masterlist

Wolf shifter!Soap gets himself lost on a run one night and runs into you. The problem? You think he's a dog and take him home to try and find his people. Naturally, Soap falls head over heels.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, shifter lore, world building, I just kinda throw y’all in the deep end, Price is pack dad.

Word count: 8k

Alright. So maybe the nighttime run had been a bad idea. Maybe. And maybe Soap shouldn’t have shifted on his own. And maaaaaybe he should have paid more attention to where he was going.

But he wasn’t lost! He’d never been lost in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.

He just… had to find the right road back to base. That was all.

He briefly debated shifting back, but he didn’t fancy having to explain why he was running around naked. Price would kill him for that. And then Ghost would probably kill him, too.

So he huffed and continued trotting along. Fortunately the wound in his shoulder had healed enough not to bother him at this easy pace, though he was careful to monitor it. Despite what medical said, he didn’t like being benched for injuries.

Which was why he’d gone on a night run in the first place. Couldn’t sleep, pack was gone on a mission, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

…Yeah this had definitely been a bad idea.

Soap huffed again, pausing to shake himself off. He’d slid down a hill earlier, which hadn’t hurt him, but it had half-covered him in mud. He did not approve. He would much rather be clean.

And he’d get to clean off just as soon as he got back to base.

Lifting his nose, he sniffed around for any hint he could pick up. But there was nothing special here - hints of deer and rabbits, old car smell, and tiny whiffs of human. But not a particular human, not like he was close to infringing on anyone’s property.

Which meant he was pretty well in the middle of nowhere.

Gaz was never going to let him live this down.

His ears pricked and he turned his head as he heard a car coming down the road, slowly getting louder. He trotted a couple steps off to the side, just in case, and watched as the car rounded the bend, headlights even brighter in the relative dark to his eyes. The car slowed and the hazard lights turned on, flashing orange in the dark, even as the car slowed to a stop on the shoulder.

The driver’s door opened and Soap tensed a little, watching carefully. But it was just a woman - she smelled good. Human, absolutely, but good. His nose twitched in interest.

“Hey pup,” she greeted, getting out of her car and crouching down. “You okay over there? Where are your people?”

Oh. She thought he was a dog. Well, he supposed she could be forgiven for that - it was dark, and he was muddy, and okay yeah he did kind of look like a dog. Gaz liked to tease him about it sometimes.

“I’ve got some goodies here,” she continued, moving slowly, pulling a bag out of her car. The crinkle caused his ears to perk, and he sniffed hopefully. Smelled like jerky. Mmm. “You want some? C’mere, I’ve got plenty.” She tossed a piece about half-way across the road, and he trotted forward to gobble it up.

Really, she was nowhere near a threat, even with him on four legs. He could get himself out of trouble easily enough.

“Good pup,” she crooned, keeping her voice gentle. “You want more?” She held out a piece to him.

Soap paused to consider this. On the one hand, free food. On the other, she was clearly trying to get him close enough to check for a collar, which she wouldn’t find.

Well. If nothing else, she’d get him back to civilization, and from there he could figure out how to get back to base. He’d be fine.

So he stepped forward to take the jerky from her, making sure to be very gentle. He didn’t even flinch as her free hand checked for a collar.

“Looks like you escaped from someone’s yard,” she mused softly, gaze sweeping over him. “Alright. Do you wanna come in the car? Go on a little car ride? I’ll give you more jerky.”

Soap just wagged his tail at her, waiting patiently as she opened the back door before he hopped in. At least she didn’t try to buckle him in, he hated that. She did give him another piece of jerky, as promised, before she slid back into the driver’s seat.

This was going to be interesting.

–

You couldn’t help glancing back at the dog in the backseat. Partially to make sure he was okay, partially because you were nervous, and partially because you were trying to figure out if you’d seen him before. He was a big dog, but very well behaved. Hopefully you’d be able to get the mud off of him to get a better look at him.

The vet was undoubtedly closed by now, so you wouldn’t be able to get him checked for a microchip until morning.

But you couldn’t regret bringing him home. You just didn’t have it in you to leave a dog on the side of the road, especially one so obviously a beloved pet.

You parked in front of your tiny house, getting out and gathering up your things before letting the dog out. You had another piece of jerky in hand, hoping that would entice him to cooperate.

“This way,” you murmured to the dog, watching him hop down out of your car. “C’mon, let’s go inside and get cleaned up. And maybe have some dinner, hmm?”

The dog wagged his tail again and trotted right up to the front door, like he expected to be let in. You laughed softly but let him in, giving him the piece of jerky and then giving him a minute to sniff around.

“Alright, if you’re a pet, you should know better than to potty in the house,” you said, setting your things down. “Shower first, I think. For you.” You eyed the muddy pawprints left on the floor and decided that was now a tomorrow problem. “Okay. C’mon pup.” You tapped the side of your thigh, and the dog followed you back to your bathroom.

He didn’t even protest getting in the shower, thankfully. Just stood under the spray calmly.

The problems started when you got out the shampoo. (Which, honestly, you were amazed you still had any under your sink, you’d bought it for a friend’s dog ages ago.)

Then he boofed softly, circling in the shower and refusing to hold still for more than a second at a time. He kept pulling his paws away from you.

“Stubborn,” you grumbled at the dog, though you couldn’t help but laugh when he kept walking under your hand, inadvertently spreading the shampoo. “Well, I guess this is one way to do it.”

Rinsing off was another exercise in patience - the dog didn’t want to hold still, and ended up shaking muddy soap suds all over the shower, and your clothes. You just sighed deeply.

“Don’t make me regret being nice to you,” you grumbled, finally washing off the last of the soap. “Alright, guess it’s time to dry off.”

The dog bounded out of the shower and bounced around the tiny bathroom. Seriously bounced. Water got everywhere, and you just stared for a moment in absolute dismay.

“Definitely regretting all my life choices.” But you grabbed a towel and started working on drying him off.

It took two towels before you released him into the rest of the house and changed out of your dirty clothes.

The dog, of course, acted like nothing was wrong and sat patiently in the kitchen, tail wagging.

“You’re a menace,” you told the dog, although you started gathering up ingredients anyway. “It’s probably super late for your dinner, but oh well. This is when I normally eat.” You paused. “Shit, you can’t eat some things, right? Hang on.” You whipped out your phone to do a bit of frantic googling.

The dog boofed again, walked two circles around you, and then laid down with the biggest sigh. You looked away from your phone and right into big gorgeous blue puppy dog eyes… and you caved, crouching down to scratch his ears.

“You’re just too cute,” you grumbled. “I can’t be mad at you.” You stroked your hand down the dog’s back. “You’re a handsome boy too, aren’t you?” He really was, mostly red with a white stripe down his nose, white socks, and a little white blotch at his shoulders. You’d lay even odds that he was part husky.

He stayed where he was as you cooked, humming a little to yourself, big eyes following your every move. But at least he wasn’t underfoot.

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the vet, see if you’ve got a microchip,” you told him, leaning back against the counter to let everything cook a bit. “And if not, I’ll put up signs. You can’t have traveled too far.”

The dog just sat up when you plated food, leaving a bowl on the ground for him. You’d checked all the ingredients and just had to hope it wouldn’t upset his stomach.

After throwing the dishes in the sink and taking him out for a potty break, you were more than ready for bed.

Apparently, so was the dog, as he immediately hopped up on your bed.

“Hey!” You frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The dog wagged his tail at you and then circled the end of the bed before laying down, curled into an almost perfect circle.

“Oh my god.” You threw your hands up and turned to get ready for bed. “Fine, but don’t complain if I kick you in the middle of the night.”

But if you were being honest with yourself, when you laid down to sleep, the soft breathing and the warmth of the dog was… soothing. He made you feel less alone, less isolated.

You reminded yourself firmly to not get attached, because he wasn’t staying.

So, of course, he wasn’t microchipped.

“Nope,” the vet tech confirmed the following morning. “No microchip. I don’t recognize him, either.”

“Well, it was worth a try,” you said on a sigh, patting the dog’s head. “Thanks for checking for me.”

“Sure thing!”

“Guess I need to make some posters,” you said, looking down at the dog. He boofed at you, tail wagging.

You had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

–

Soap actually hadn’t meant to stay this long. He really hadn’t. But, well, you were pretty and lonely. It wasn’t hard for him to smell it on you, although it was less pervasive when he stuck near you.

And the team wasn’t supposed to be back for a few more days, so it wasn’t a problem to stay for a little longer.

(He could also admit, if only to himself, that he also needed more time to orient himself. He had no idea where the fuck he had ended up.)

Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was making it work. And he wasn’t stupid, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay long. Tonight, probably, he’d have to leave. Now that he knew where he was and where he needed to go.

Hell, he knew that if Price found out, he’d have Soap’s head. Staying with an uninitiated human was risky, even though he had excellent control of his shifts. And it wasn’t just a risk to himself, but to his whole team.

Bad decisions seemed to be the theme of his forced downtime, though.

He’d just have to leave tonight and sneak back onto base. No big deal. Nobody would know, he wouldn’t get in trouble, everything would be fine.

He did feel a bit bad when he hopped down lightly from your bed. Hopefully you wouldn’t spend too much time looking for him.

Making sure to leave the back door cracked open a few inches to show how he’d gotten out, Soap trotted off back towards base. It would be tight, getting back in before sunrise, but he’d always enjoyed a good challenge.

He didn’t enjoy being wrong.

Which he very much was.

Price stood outside the barracks, arms crossed, staring down at him. Soap gulped, ears flattening to his head, tail tucked.

“Inside,” Price growled, opening the door for him. Soap slunk through the door, obediently following Price down the hall and to his room.

By now, the lot of them had no shame around each other. Hard to be body-shy when they’d all shifted together, many times, and shared sometimes tight sleeping quarters. So Soap just waited until the door was closed to shift back to human.

“Explain.” Price leaned back against the door, arms crossed over his chest again.

“Didn’t think ye’d be back so soon,” Soap muttered, grabbing a shirt first.

Price didn’t say anything, just stared Soap down, even and outwardly calm as only he could be.

“Just went for a run,” Soap said, shrugging, even as he grabbed more clean clothes to pull on. “No’ a big thing.”

“Must have been a long run.”

“Aye.” Soap swallowed. “Might’ve gone farther than I wanted.”

Price nodded once. “Any trouble?”

Soap shook his head. “Nah. I was careful.”

Finally, Price’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. And your shoulder?”

“Almost healed.” Soap relaxed too, grinning briefly. “I’m careful ‘bout it!”

Price snorted his disbelief of that. “Then you can go running with Ghost. 0600.”

Soap didn’t groan, because that wouldn’t help his case. He tried not to pout, because this was absolutely a punishment, and they both knew it. “Yes, sir.”

Price nodded once and let himself out, the door clicking shut softly after him. Soap flopped face-first onto his bed and groaned into his pillow.

–

You tried hard not to be heartbroken when you found the back door open a little, cold morning air wafting in. The dog was gone.

Hopefully he’d find his way back home on his own.

You spent the next three days keeping your eyes open any time you went anywhere, just in case. If he was still lost, well, at least he knew you. You could always make more dog-friendly food.

And when you didn’t see the dog for a week, you figured that was it. He’d found his way back home. That was okay. It was much better for him to be at home. You wouldn’t wish losing a dog on anyone. At least, not anyone who took such good care of their dog.

You parked in front of your house and slumped forward, forehead resting on the steering wheel. You were tired. Exhausted, really. The kind of exhausted that came from too little sleep and stress and probably a little bit of touch starvation.

You might have stayed right there for longer, trying to find the energy to move, except there was a woof, and then the car shook a little as a dog stood on its hind legs to look in the window. The dog.

“What the hell?” You blinked at the dog and then grabbed your things, opening the door. “What are you doing here?”

The dog wagged happily at you, boofing at you and running up to the front door. When you didn’t move fast enough, he ran back to you, tail still wagging.

“I thought you went home.” You blinked again but moved slowly to the door, opening the door. The dog pushed past you to head inside, trotting right along. He looked good - no mud this time, at least. His coat looked good, and he didn’t look like he’d lost any weight. So he was being taken care of.

Even if he had escaped yet again.

“You’re going to give your people a heart attack,” you scolded gently, locking the door behind you before putting your things down. “How did you even get back here?”

He whined a little, excited, tail still going a mile a minute as he tried to wait patiently for you in the kitchen. You dropped a hand to pat the top of his head, opening your fridge to look inside.

Not that there was much to see. You hadn’t been shopping, and it showed.

“Um.” You frowned, glancing down at the dog. “Hm. Well, I can probably whip up something.”

The dog watched you, sitting just at the edge of your space so he was barely not in the way, eyes bright and ears perked. He was pretty big for a husky, even though the coloring matched. He was probably a mutt of some kind, but you were a bit surprised at his size.

“Here you go, big boy.” You set a bowl down for him again and took your own plate to the tiny table.

Where you sat and stared at it, stomach turning. You needed to eat. You knew you needed to eat.

You just… didn’t want to.

The dog rested his head on your thigh, whining softly. But he was looking up at you, not at your plate.

“It’s okay, pup,” you immediately murmured, one hand dropping to scratch between his ears. “You still hungry? I’ll give you more in a little bit, have to make sure that settles okay first.” You gently rubbed your thumb over his furry forehead and between his eyes in slow, soothing strokes. His eyes closed with a big sigh.

You weren’t sure exactly how long you sat there, curiously blank, stroking this dog. Long enough that your food had gone cold. Finally, you gave up on it and put a bit more into the dog’s bowl before putting the rest away for another day.

Your bedtime routine was barely disturbed by the dog, and he once again hopped up onto your bed. This time, you didn’t protest, just let him get comfortable.

And when his head landed on your thigh, his warmth stretched out next to your legs, you just sighed softly and closed your eyes.

You weren’t sure if you were surprised or not when you woke to an empty bed and chilly morning air.

It took a while to drag yourself through your routine, getting ready for work by rote, brain definitely not engaged yet. Why bother?

But you still stopped, blinking owlishly at the sight of the dog sitting in the middle of the kitchen, tail wagging, jaws parted in a doggy grin.

“Oh. You’re still here.” You felt dumb saying it out loud, admitting to what you’d assumed. That he was gone again. And then you felt even more stupid because he couldn’t reply and didn’t even know what you’d said. “Well. I guess you’ll want breakfast, then.”

You reheated the leftovers from last night for him and set them down before getting your own things ready. You still had a few minutes before you had to leave for work, which you spent pondering what to do with the dog.

You couldn’t leave him locked inside. It wasn’t fair to him, and you didn’t want to come home to a ruined house.

He solved your dilemma by walking to the front door and sitting calmly, looking back at you. You huffed out something close to a laugh.

“Well, I guess you know your way home by now,” you agreed, gathering up your things and opening the front door for him. “Be careful, there are always idiots on the road.”

The dog boofed at you once before trotting off again, tail held high.

You got in your car and went to work.

–

Soap wasn’t an idiot. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew he should put you out of his mind and move on, because you didn’t know and couldn’t know about his nature.

But something about you just… pulled at him. Maybe it was how uncomplicated things were with you. Maybe it was the way you smiled for him. Maybe it was that he could help you feel better.

Maybe it was that his wolf loved the way you smelled and wanted to just bury himself in your blankets.

Whatever it was, Soap ended up sneaking away to you just about every chance he got. Any time the team had downtime, he was off. He couldn’t go during the full moon, because the pack always ran that night together, but he still managed to make time to go visit you.

“If you keep running off, Cap’s gonna follow you one day,” Gaz said as he dropped down next to Soap.

Soap huffed. “He hasn’t yet,” he pointed out, mostly just to be contrary.

“Ghost will, then.”

Soap had no retaliation for that because LT absolutely would. Actually, he was a little surprised that Ghost hadn’t already.

“Might be better to just come clean about wherever it is you run off to,” Gaz continued, slanting a look at the Scot even as he pushed food around his plate.

Soap huffed. Gaz was… not exactly wrong. But it still wasn’t a good idea. Not even close. He needed to figure out how to tell Price without the captain flipping.

“Don’t suppose you’re offering t’ help,” he grumbled, side-eyeing the other sergeant.

Gaz perked up a little, taking a moment to think as he chewed. “Might be,” he mumbled. “For an interesting enough reason.”

This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea.

But Gaz was right - this was going to blow up in his face sooner or later. He could mitigate the damage with a bit of help and a fair bit of luck.

“Swear you won’t tell.” Soap held his gaze, drawing himself up a little straighter.

Gaz looked briefly taken aback before he nodded, slow and serious. “I swear.”

Soap nodded, took a deep breath, and started from the beginning. (Well. Not the beginning, because he still refused to admit that he’d been… temporarily discombobulated.)

After the expected razzing (and only a bit of shoving), Gaz stood to clear his place, Soap scrambling a little after him. A quick look around and the two went back to Gaz’s bunk to talk quietly.

“Right,” Gaz muttered, gaze darting around as he plotted. “I want to meet her.”

Soap puffed up, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

“To see what she’s like for myself.” Gaz shoved him a bit with a little huff. “No offense, mate, but you’re a bit smitten.”

Soap opened his mouth to protest… and then shut it again. Because. Well. He couldn’t, in fact, protest that. He swallowed.

“This is not a good idea,” Gaz muttered. “Got a couple days off coming up, yeah?”

“Aye,” Soap agreed slowly.

“We’ll both go.”

Soap blinked at that. “Shifted?”

“Well, you said she takes you in, thinks you’re a dog.” Gaz shrugged. “Probably won’t think any different of me.”

This was truly a terrible idea. Part of Soap rebelled at the idea for no good reason, too - you were his, and he didn’t want to share you. But he’d have to. Especially if he ever wanted more with you than the stolen moments as a wolf.

“Right.” Soap breathed in deep. “We’ll try it.”

–

You almost didn’t even bother to get out of bed. But it was after noon, and you needed to drink something at least. Even if the very thought of food made you nauseous. So you shoved yourself out of bed, hands shaking only a little as you put the kettle on.

A soft woof at the back door nearly made you drop your mug, and you fumbled for a few moments before you saved it and put it on the counter instead.

There was a dog at your door. No, scratch that. The dog was at your door. With a friend.

“What the fuck.” You stared at the two dogs, blinking stupidly. The second dog was just as big, medium gray with the classic black saddle and tail tip. His snout was black too. Almost like a German shepherd, but in gray instead of tan.

Your dog, the red and white one, woofed again, tail wagging. Almost on autopilot, you opened the door for him.

“What the fuck,” you said again, watching as the second dog came in too, just as easy and confident as your dog. “Damn I wish you could talk. Is this your buddy? Do you live together? Have you both escaped the same yard? Or did you steal someone else’s dog?” You rubbed a hand over your eyes.

The kettle started whistling, and you trudged over to it to pour hot water for tea. Your dog kept pace with you, sniffing your legs and then your belly and whining softly at you.

“I dunno what you want,” you said, one hand drifting down to his head, rubbing a soft ear between your fingers. “It’s not dinner time. …I think.” You frowned, squinting at your phone. “No. Too early.”

The other dog kept a little more distance but did sniff your hand and accepted a couple gentle head pats. Tea helped you feel more steady, and your dog hopped up on the couch to curl up next to you.

“You can relax,” you told the other dog quietly, eyelids already drooping again. “You’re safe here. I’ll make dinner for you later.”

The other dog laid down on the floor a couple feet from the two of you, head resting on his paws, eyes open and trained on you. You didn’t take it personally, just huffing a soft laugh and closing your eyes the rest of the way.

“It’s too bad you have to go,” you muttered, hand resting on your dog’s head, which was pillowed on your thigh. “Nice to have some company.”

Your dog sighed, warm even through your clothes, and wiggled even closer to you. An afternoon nap was definitely in order today.

You woke to the sound of grumbling. Not quite a growl but not exactly a happy sound either. You blinked a few times, lifting your head (ow) to try to figure out what was going on.

Your dog was perched over you, head low, grumbling a little at the other dog. Who huffed right back at him, ears flicking forward and back.

“No fighting,” you mumbled, almost reflexively. “Or take it outside or something.”

Both dogs paused, looking at you, and your dog sniffed your face before licking your nose. You blew out a breath that was almost a laugh.

“C’mon, get off. I’ll cook.” You pushed the dog, more or less gently, until he hopped off the couch.

Cooking didn’t make you nauseous, at least. Even if you still had very little interest in eating anything.

The two dogs seemed to have given up on whatever spat woke you up, for which you were grateful. Your house was not at all dog proofed, and you were amazed nothing had been broken yet.

You forced yourself to shower, because you needed to and it was easier to motivate yourself to do something with the dog around. Then you sat up for a little while reading, your dog curled up on your bed with his head resting on your stomach, the other dog laying on the floor near the foot of the bed.

You were honestly surprised when you woke up and they were both still there, two heads popping up as soon as you sat up.

You finally felt better this morning. You’d slept better, too. You actually ate after you cooked and spent a bit of time outside, watching the two tear around the yard chasing each other.

But when your dog stopped next to you just as the sun began to sink, you knew.

“Time to go back home?” you asked him, smoothing down his fur from his playtime. He whined softly, wiggling closer to you and resting his head on your knee to look up at you with those big blue puppy eyes. “Well. You be careful.” You gently smoothed your fingers over the top of his head, smiling a little even though it hurt. “I don’t wanna hear about any dogs getting run over, okay?”

He huffed out through his nose, his eyes closing as he leaned his weight into your legs. You chuckled, patting his head before removing your hand entirely.

“Okay. Go on, before it gets dark.”

He looked up at you, almost pleading, before a soft bark from the other dog got his attention. His ears half-lowered, and he licked your hand once before he backed off and then darted off to join his friend.

The two of them were gone from your sight in moments.

You didn’t move until the cold forced you to go back inside.

–

“You,” Gaz started once they were both back in human skin, “are so fucked.”

Soap slumped. “Donnae remind me,” he groaned.

“So fucked,” Gaz continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Pretty sure your wolf has all but actually claimed her.”

Soap rubbed a hand over his face, because Gaz wasn’t wrong. But you had no idea he was a shifter, and he couldn’t tell you without Price’s permission. Which meant he also couldn’t pursue anything with you until you knew. It was… a situation. Definitely.

“Lucky for you, I have an idea.”

Soap perked up at that, hopeful. “Aye?”

Gaz had already grabbed his phone, typing quickly. “We can’t tell her,” he said, gaze focused on his phone. “But we can give her a nudge in the right direction.”

Soap leaned over, trying to see what Gaz was doing. “Gaz,” he said slowly, confused. “Why are ye texting yer mum?”

“Trust me.” Gaz flashed him a grin that was mostly teeth. “She had to woo Dad. She can help.”

This was probably a terrible idea. But. It was better than anything he’d come up with. So Soap shrugged, letting it happen.

“Now, for the other part of this plan.” Gaz grinned as he dug through Soap’s things, ignoring the Scot’s grumbling, until he found the collar. (Soap had drawn the short stick and had been stuck for an op. The collar had been to make him look less threatening. Fortunately for everyone involved, it had been a short op.)

“No.” Soap crossed his arms over his chest, glowering.

“Just wait,” Gaz soothed, grinning like the looney he clearly was. “I have a plan.”

Soap groaned. This was going to end terribly. For him.

–

There was a box on your front porch. You blinked at it, confused. You hadn’t ordered anything. And yet your name was written on top of the box, with no shipping address or return address.

You brought the box inside. Foolish, maybe, but it was too cold outside to stand out there and go through the box.

A handful of books filled the box most of the way, with a letter on top. Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you opened the letter first.

Keep an open mind while you read the books. There’s some very good information here. Things will make sense sooner or later.

It was unsigned, of course. You huffed. If this was a prank, it was pretty elaborate.

So you pulled out the books, examining them one at a time. The first one looked hand-written, with no information on the title page. The second book was labeled, simply, Etiquette. The other two books were no better, giving you very little information.

It took a good five pages for you to figure out the handwritten book was about werewolves. Or wolf-shifters? The terminology became confusing very quickly.

It felt like a prank. You were sure someone was going to pop up and prank you, maybe record your reaction. Who, you didn’t know, but still. The feeling persisted.

Because this? This was crazy. This was an entire secret society, a subset of the population that lived an entire secret life. It was impossible.

And yet you kept reading.

But you forced yourself to stop and walk away after you finished that book, having barely moved. You needed to eat. You needed to drink something. You needed a damn reality check.

Even so… Even so, you came back to the books after a meal and a walk. The little pile taunted you until you swore and swiped up the next book.

Which was all on shifter-people etiquette. Apparently. How they interacted with each other, how they interacted with humans.

Even if this did turn out to be a prank of some kind, it was an incredibly elaborate one.

One you couldn’t get out of your head.

It took a few days to read through all the books in between work, but you did. And then you went back and took a few notes, because some things were just… too interesting. Too unique.

You did keep the books in your bedroom. Not that you had a lot of company (or any), but it felt… wrong. To leave them out on display. So you hid them away.

You couldn’t explain why, but it felt like the right thing to do.

Now if only you could figure out why.

It was another three weeks until the dog came back, once again arriving at your house at almost the same time you did. He looked the same as always, tail wagging, jaws parted in a canine grin.

Except he was wearing a collar.

“Oh so your person does have a collar for you,” you grumbled, opening the front door for him. “Look at that, it’s practically a miracle.”

He boofed softly at you before running around to sniff everything, clearly trying to get caught up on whatever he’d missed. Which was… not much. A spill of take-out one night, a few naps on the couch, and late dinners after work.

Typical for you.

“Alright, c’mere pup.” You tapped your thigh, pulling your phone out. “Let me call your person to come get you.”

The dog drooped a little but obediently walked back to you, sitting patiently while you dialed the number you found on his tag. “Soap,” you mumbled, examining the tag. “Who the hell names their dog Soap?”

“Yes?” The man who answered the phone sounded brusque, borderline rude. You blinked, caught off guard.

“Um, hi. I have your dog? He’s been wandering over to my place recently and, um, I figured you might want to come get him?” Your eyes slammed shut. You hadn’t meant to make that a question. Really. Your people skills were seriously awful.

There was silence, then a sigh. “Soap?” he asked, dry with a hint of humor.

“Yeah.” You looked down at the dog, absently petting the top of his head.

“Right. I’ll be there soon. What’s the address?”

You hesitated for a moment before rattling it off. Well. He probably wasn’t secretly an axe murderer with such a sweet dog.

There was a soft grunt as he confirmed the address. “It’ll be about an hour,” he said. And hung up.

“Well,” you muttered, looking down at your phone, “rude.”

Soap whined at you softly, pawing at you gently until you resumed petting him.

“Guess we’ve got an hour, buddy.” You stretched and stepped around Soap into the kitchen. “I need food or I’m gonna be hangry when your person gets here, and nobody wants that.” You slanted a look at him. “I assume you want food?”

Soap’s tail started wagging, even though he sat patiently in his normal spot out of the way.

“Yeah, okay.” You huffed a little laugh and started pulling out ingredients. “You were gone for a while, buddy. I was worried about you.” You didn’t expect any kind of reaction from the dog.

Which is why you startled when he pressed his nose to your thigh with another soft whine. You looked down to find those big blue eyes focused on you, ears half-down, tail wagging slowly.

“Aw, I’m not mad at you,” you murmured, leaning over a bit to scratch under his chin. “You’re okay, cutie.”

His tail thumped faster against the ground, and you had to spend a minute petting him before you could wash your hands and continue with dinner prep.

Somehow, the knock on your door still caught you off-guard, enough that your fork clattered back to your dish. You looked at Soap, who looked back at you, ears up. Then you nodded once and stood, heading to the door.

You opened the door and blinked up at the man on the other side. Muttonchops, floppy hat, stern-set mouth. Big. Broad.

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

“You called about Soap,” he said, voice brusque, though his tone gentled a little. He also didn’t make a move towards you, which helped a bit.

“I did.” You pulled the door open further, turning to call Soap. Only to find him already right behind you. “Here he is.”

“You’re in trouble,” he said, gaze focused on Soap. “Come on.”

But Soap took two steps forward until he could press against your legs, and stopped there. Leaning a good bit of his weight onto you.

The man blinked once, one eyebrow raising as he looked between you and the dog slowly, something almost calculating in his gaze.

“What are you doing?” you asked Soap, exasperated. “This is your person, you’re supposed to go home with him. Silly pup.”

“He’s stubborn when he gets an idea in his head.” The man planted his hands on his hips, looking down at Soap. “How long has he been runnin’ up here?”

“Oh, a few months.” Something about his tone made you nervous, made you shift your weight. But with Soap still leaning against you, the move ended up almost sending you falling over, and only a quick grab of the doorframe saved you any dignity at all.

The man sighed, shaking his head briefly. “Stubborn,” he muttered again. “Should get Simon out here.”

Curiosity burned at you, but you kept your mouth shut. Instead you nudged Soap, trying to get him to leave your side.

“Go on,” you encouraged him. “Don’t you wanna go home?”

The man’s eyes sharpened suddenly. “What did you say?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Don’t you wanna go home?” You repeated, only a little squeaky.

Soap pressed harder into your legs, shoving his head under your free hand. And then the man sighed noisily.

“Right,” he grunted. “Can I come in?”

“Why?” You stiffened, hand gripping the doorframe tighter.

“We need to have a conversation and I’d rather not do it out the door.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. This was weird. This was definitely weird. You looked down at Soap, who was still pressed up against you, and back to the man. A little lightbulb went off finally.

“Is this about those books?”

“Books?” He frowned and then shook his head. “We should discuss this inside.”

A little reluctantly, you let him inside. Soap stayed right next to you, going so far as to hop up onto the couch next to you.

“Right,” the man muttered, rubbing a hand briefly over his chin. “What books are you talking about?”

“I got these books, they were in a box on my porch. I thought it was a hoax at first, but…” You stood and jogged back to your room, grabbing the first book, the handwritten one. “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

He took the book and flipped through the first few pages before he lifted his gaze to Soap. “Did you have something to do with this?”

Soap huffed and rested his head across your lap as soon as you sat down again.

That, more than anything, solidified things in your mind. Soap wasn’t just a dog. Soap was a shifter, of some kind. And undoubtedly this other person was as well.

“Huh.” You looked down at Soap, examining him more carefully. “Guess that’s why you kept finding your way back here, even when you shouldn’t have been able to.”

He just blinked up at you, wiggling a little closer and pushing his nose under your hand.

“What do you know?”

You pulled your gaze back to the man across from you, chewing on your lip for a moment. “Honestly? Just what’s in the books. And like I said, I thought they were a hoax at first. I’m still…” You trailed off, not sure exactly how to express what you were feeling.

He nodded, looking pensively between you and Soap. “Normally, we don’t tell others.” He paused to let that sink in, and you grimaced. “But this one found a way around that.”

Soap’s tail thumped against the couch. Clearly, he was totally unrepentant.

“So.” The man leaned forward, elbows braced on his thighs. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

It took hours to cover it all. Price, as you finally learned his name, was more or less patient with you. Less so with Soap.

The two finally left, with promises to bring you to base tomorrow. (Because, that’s right, Soap was apparently military, something you never would have guessed. And apparently Soap deciding you were his person got you some benefits? Honestly you were very unsure about all of this but Soap had given you such big imploring eyes that you’d caved.)

You would have expected that you’d be up for hours longer, pacing, working through everything in your head. Honestly, though, you just had energy for a shower, and then collapsed into bed and slept hard. Clearly, you already had too much on your mind.

You were still scrambling when the knock came at your door in the morning. “Hang on!” you shouted, hopping on one foot to shove your other shoe on, grabbing your purse and making sure you had everything you needed.

Not that you really knew what you’d need, but. You had the basics, at least.

Finally, you yanked the door open to an amused Price standing on your doorstep. Thankfully, he didn’t comment, just raised an eyebrow at you.

The drive was silent. Price kept his gaze on the road, sparing you only the occasional glance. For your part, you were too nervous to try talking.

When Price turned down a long drive to a fenced area, you swallowed hard.

“Nervous?” He couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.

“A bit,” you admitted, knee bouncing so at least you had some kind of outlet for your nerves.

“Relax.” He slanted a look at you as he slowed near the gate guard. “You’ll be fine.”

You swallowed again, knee bouncing as the guard lifted the gate and let the two of you through. Price continued down the road and pulled into a parking spot, cutting the engine.

You’d known, sort of, that this base was here. People talked about it - that base out of town. Sometimes military men came through to the store or the bar, although you weren’t the closest town to the base.

But being here was something else entirely. You had no idea it was so big - lots of land, all enclosed. Multiple buildings spread out around the area, and you could see a group of runners off in the distance.

“This way,” Price grunted, jerking you from your thoughts. You turned and hurried to follow him inside, fingers twisting around each other, nearly jogging to keep up with his longer strides. He stopped in front of a door, pushing it open and stepping inside. A little more slowly, you followed.

Another man was standing in the middle of the room, mohawk mussed like he’d been running his hands through it, shoulders tense. You almost asked… but you met his gaze, eyes wide.

“Oh.” You couldn’t help but smile, still holding his gaze, those beautiful blue eyes fixed on you. “Your eyes really don’t change at all, do they?”

“Nah.” He smiled slowly, taking a step closer to you.

“Still want me to call you Soap?” You smiled, tipping your chin.

“Or Johnny.” His teeth flashed in a grin. “Ye can call me anythin’ ye want, lovely.”

You warmed at the easy affection, but you didn’t drop his gaze. “Can I…?” You lifted one hand slowly, a little cautious.

Apparently that was all he needed, though, because he stepped straight into your space and wrapped himself around you. You blinked and then snorted, your hand settling at the back of his head to rub against the hairs there.

“Personal space optional?” you teased, though you made absolutely no move away from him.

“What’s yours is mine,” he quipped, squeezing you affectionately.

“Sergeant.” Price sounded exasperated, and you pulled back enough to peek at him, suddenly worried again.

“This is why he didn’t let me drive to get you,” Soap said, unrepentant, shifting his grip on you enough to smooth one hand up and down your back. “Didnae think ah’d come back.”

“No,” Price said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d come back until tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you at that, and you relaxed again. “So, what now?”

Price huffed something akin to a laugh. “You get to meet the other two, then we do some paperwork.”

“Speakin’ of.” Soap nodded to the door, grinning. Price heaved a sigh but walked over and pulled the door open.

“Gaz.” He stepped aside to let the other young man in, and you blinked at him. He gave you a quick smile and a little wave, though he gave you a bit of space. Something about him seemed… familiar.

“Did you come with Johnny one day?” You blinked, putting the pieces together. He kept the same bit of distance the other dog had, the same kind of reserved politeness.

Gaz blinked twice, lips parting in surprise. “How’d you guess?”

“I mean, it’s not that big of a leap.” You shrugged, ignoring Soap chuckling.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Price grumbled, shooting Gaz a look. Whoops.

Another man slipped into the room, almost as big as Price, wearing a skull mask. You blinked, a little intimidated.

“LT is a big softie,” Soap whispered in your ear, swaying the two of you side to side just a little.

“Johnny.” The big one sounded vaguely amused but also disapproving.

“This is Ghost,” Price said, since clearly he was the only one in the room with manners.

You twisted in Soap’s arms to look at him, lifting your hand in a little wave. You almost felt awkward with Soap still hanging off of you, but you were also comfortable. Sure, he wasn’t a dog, but still. This felt normal.

“Couldn’t keep your mouth shut, eh, Johnny?” Ghost sounded more amused than anything, though.

“I only told Gaz,” Soap defended, squeezing you a little tighter.

“Yes, about that.” Price raised one eyebrow at Gaz. Who immediately buckled and spilled the whole plot - the two of them going to visit you, and then Gaz writing his mum.

“So those books were from your mum?” You’d all settled into chairs or the couch. (You’d had to swat Soap a few times when he tried to pull you down to sit in his lap.)

“Must be.” He shrugged. “You still have ‘em, yeah?”

“Of course, they’re at home. I’ll bring them next time.”

He shrugged. “No rush. We’ve got time.”

And you did, you realized with a blink. With Soap crowded up against your side, the other three ranged around the room, you realized you had plenty of time. Now that you weren’t just waiting on a surprise visit from a dog. You smiled to yourself and leaned into Soap.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

#shifter au #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #f!reader

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